Random photos from this morning

Early morning antagonista

So, my buddy decides that I deserve a couple drinks for taking care of the puppy. Yay, me! Then he decides that, rather than pick the puppy up right then, let's go out first and pick the puppy up on the way home.

Guess who's still at my house this morning.

Very sneaky, Eric. I see what you did there.

T minus 3

Well, T is back on US soil, as of last night. She'll probably be here Thursday, which means I have quite a few little chores to finish off in a few short days. Cleaning, shopping, laundry, more cleaning...

I would have accomplished more this weekend, but I'm taking care of my buddy's puppy and that's practically a full time job in itself. After a while, I thought, "Hell, why bother while she's still here?", so there's still a hefty list to take care of before T's arrival. (Housekeeping note: Black dogs and white sheets are not a spectacular combination.) As of this writing, there haven't been any shoe casualties, though not for her lack of trying, so keep your fingers crossed until my buddy comes to pick her up.

On a sad note, I lost my little tray of herbs yesterday. I'd put them out on the upper deck to get some sunshine and the wind apparently flipped up the rug they were sitting on and spilled most of the dirt out of the tray. Or there's an herbist in the neighborhood, taking out his anger on innocent seedlings.

On a potentially happier note, there's one tiny shoot left on my eggplant, so there may be hope. One of the peppers is sprouting flowers already and the tomatoes seem to be growing, which is a good sign.

I'd better run to put Widget's blankets in the dryer. See how I spoil the ladies?

In a World Gone Sad

This week, which isn't even over yet, has been a cable "news" producer's long, drawn out wet dream. Don't get me wrong, I hate cable "news" and everything it stands for... wait a minute, I guess that's actually my point - I never watch the stuff.

Yesterday, we lost two pop culture icons from my youth, not six hours apart and barely 24 hours after another cultural icon had passed. That, in itself, is reason for some sadness, depending on where you set up camp on the long arc of pop culture. But what made it even sadder for me, even thought the inevitability was practically climbing up my pant leg, was the perverse display of... well, I don't even know what the Hell you'd call it. Soul-fucking, maybe, by the blow-dried vultures who rule the roost of consumer media.

I happened to be out with a friend last night at a place that had Fox Tabloid Channel on one of the TVs and was somewhat dismayed that Michael Jackson's death garnered non-stop coverage, though I suppose I shouldn't have been. And this isn't about my opinion of Michael Jackson's life or work - it's about the media's obsession with... what? Scandal? Salacious tut-tutting and pearl clutching?

Farrah Fawcett's body was barely cold and she was already forgotten. I guess it says something about our national obsession with celebrity, and perhaps more about our obsession with gasp!-y celebrity horror stories, that a man whose personal demons caused him to undergo multiple episodes of self-denying physical mutilation and whose alleged predilections regarding children would consume the media more than the death of a woman who was, at the very least, as well known and who turned her intimate battle against the ravages of cancer public. Perhaps I'm naive.

In my wanderings today, I read a comment somewhere that made this (paraphrased) point: They use these people in whatever manner suits their needs at the time. When they're alive, they're the subject of jokes, ridicule, and all manner of disdain. But when they die, they're saints and the Girls Next Door (see: Anna Nicole Smith). Why does Death turn these media idiots into such fans?

Seriously - Greta van Sustern talking about Michael Jackson? That girl couldn't get down if you chainsawed her legs off at the knees and gave her a shove. But blahbbity blahbbity blah, there she was, yammering on about Michael Jackson as if he were a real person to her.

They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. I sometimes wonder if the cable "news" outlets don't believe there's no such thing as bad news. They certainly seemed to get a little thrill, yesterday.

I will hug him and squeeze him and call him Stu

You may not realize that Decorah is under attack. Attack?, you ask. Yes. Our very way of Life is threatened by an insidious enemy who knows no mercy.

Little bugger (or one of his buddies) ate my eggplant! I figured since I didn't have any lettuce, they'd leave the garden alone. Shows how much I know about rabbits.

I'll bet Michelle Obama doesn't have this problem.

Time Passages

So many things to do...

It's been a busy week and the next week promises to be even busier. All the goings on in the political world and on the international stage have kept me fairly busy on the internet, which is good because busy=$ as far as that goes. (If you haven't read my in depth analyses on the situation in Iran, you really haven't missed anything.) On the local and domestic front, there's a ton of stuff to do, as well.

My ex is moving back to the States from Cambodia, so I have all kinds of things to take care of before she gets here. (Yes, it's a rather strange situation but love will make people do strange things.) Lawn care, gardening, cleaning, storing stuff to make room for her stuff... every time I cross something off the To Do list, something takes its place. And talk about nerves.... yeesh! Now, if only I could get rid of this Grinch belly I've developed and add a few inches to the old biceps, I'd be feeling pretty good. Ah well - here's hoping that love is still blind.

I'm kind of disappointed about the garden. I planted it extremely late due to the rainy weather we've had, so it's going to be a while before there's any produce. I started a little planter of herbs, which is coming along but I'm not sure it's going to produce as well as I'd hoped.

The rain has made the lawn and the roses grow like crazy. I'll get some pictures up, later.

I'm not sure what this is, but the backyard is full of them. Michael?

Flom 2008

I posted the pictures I shot from last year's flood to an online gallery.

The 2008 Decorah Flood