I’ve been AWOL, I know, but am easing back into LJ-Land with the latest creation by Wildebeest & Friends:
Another Wildebeest & Friends creation:
This one is more open-air than the last.
I’m thankful that Wildebeest’s borrowed iPod (his is MIA) provided us with a different
get-ready-for-school soundtrack this morning : Michael Jackson (rather than the usual death metal or rap.)
I’m thankful I was able to make an appointment for Zebu to see the pediatric orthopedist this afternoon
to examine his knee that popped during track practice yesterday.
I’m thankful I own a Neti pot and can clear my nasal passages that are congested due to a lousy head cold.
Yesterday morning Zippy went to the basement to feed Lebowski the cat, and found this:
© Zippy 2011
Wildebeest and friends (all 17 years-old) came home on Friday night and built a fort to sleep in.
It all began with one sheet and a piece of yarn.
This makes me smile.
Somewhere in my vast collection of old photographs,
This is the pot after it soaked outside all night.
One morning in late January, we woke to this:
© Zippy 2011
I couldn’t believe none of us heard this going on right outside our windows.
Not me.
Not Zippy.
Not the two dogs.
And now Wildebeest informs me this was the work of the entire girls basketball team
(one of the girls "confessed" during track practice).
Who knew teen girls could be so stealthy?
Zippy and I went snowshoeing on Sunday
after we got about 10 inches of snow.
It was a beautiful day and our tromp through the snow was lovely.
However, I did announce to the universe
that I’d prefer a cessation of snowfall for the rest of the week.
Well, guess what?
More snow!
And frigid temps!
Dude!
© Tracy Abell 2011
Wonder if this Northern Flicker has a direct line to the powers that be . . .
Wildebeest and I are headed out to dust for fingerprints.
1) Yesterday I made the mistake of telling my hair stylist Wildebeest
was doing really well. This morning, he was an absolute mess.
2) Last night for the first time since starting my new project, I went to
bed feeling anxious about my ability to carry it off.
3) I’m not sure if I still fit in my regular jeans.
4) Zebu and Wildebeest informed me they cannot stand how I wake
them up for school with a quiet voice as I open their curtains; they prefer
Zippy’s method of turning on lights and giving them a shove.
5) I’d pack a bag and head for the hills, but then who would hold
down the fort?
Image from morguefiles.com
Again, I just glanced out the window and was puzzled to see
the newly-replenished feeder abandoned.
Where did everybody go?
Then I looked up . . .
© Tracy Abell 2011
Notice the balancing act.
I suddenly realized all the finches and towhees had left the yard.
Why?
American Kestrel in the ‘hood.
© Tracy Abell 2011
As I snapped photo after photo, a few brave finches perched on the wires above,
and a squirrel ran along the fence behind the kestrel.
They aren’t exactly interacting, but it’s a peaceful coexistence.
We should all do so well.
Zebu is now a high school freshman
and on the basketball team.
Last night was his first game, but I wasn’t there.
Zebu was a bit nervous and told Zippy and me
it would be better if we didn’t attend.
Wildebeest (junior) went to the game
along with three friends.
Apparently they yelled and cheered for everything
Zebu did on the court, and he played a great game.
He said he wants Wildebeest & Co at every game.
Image from morguefiles.com
There has been a HUGE shift in their relationship,
and I think it’s because they’re in high school together.
Somehow that’s equalized their kinship,
and now they truly enjoy each other’s company.
I wanted to share this because I know some of you despair
that your younger children will ever be friends.
There’s no guarantee they will, of course, but it doesn’t hurt
for me to dangle some hope.
The hope that someday things would be better
got me through some difficult times with those boys.
Ah, yes, holiday customs . . .
AGNES by Tony Cochran
I’d love to hear your Thanksgiving traditions.
I’ll go first:
My in-laws spend much time setting table and preparing food,
but once they sit down, they practically inhale the meal.
As one horrified guest exclaimed: "You’re a pack of wolves!"
(*waves to Zippy*)
Okay, not as interesting as the Cowboy Copas,
and probably not so much tradition as bad habit,
but you get the idea.
So spill, people!
My mother is visiting from Albuquerque,
and yesterday went for a walk in the neighborhood.
She was approached by a woman who was lost.
The woman was visiting from San Antonio
and had been running the trails with her boyfriend.
(Our neighborhood is surrounded by 2400+ acres of open space
and there are lots of trails).
Apparently, despite him telling her to stay close,
when he headed onto a lower trail,
she opted for a higher trail.
She lost sight of him and had no idea where she was.
Mom brought her home.
After failed Google attempts to figure out name of boyfriend’s condo complex,
she remembered the major cross streets in his neighborhood.
I told her I could run back there with her and she was game,
but then I realized we didn’t know the exact location so running was a bad idea.
Instead, I drove her to the neighborhood and she was able to recognize enough
landmarks to find her boyfriend’s place (she turned giddy with relief when she saw
the horses she was looking for: "Horses! Horses!")
She knew his garage key pad code so could get in.
Which was good because he was undoubtedly driving around looking for her.
Moral of the story: When someone says "stay close," heed the advice.
The painters are coming on Monday.
I have walls to wipe down, heat registers to scrub,
switch plates and pull knobs to remove,
and a whole lot more.
At least I don’t have to dust a crystal chandelier.
That IS what she’s doing, right?
Wishing everyone a wonderful, paint-prep-free weekend.
Get out there and dance the fandango!
1) Hello, friends! Maybe you noticed I’ve been AWOL from TracyWorld. Why? Busy, busy, busy.
2) Last weekend with the help of Zippy, Wildebeest, and Zebu, I placed 12 tons of landscaping
rock around the perimeter of our newly landscaped yard. Yesterday I spent the day with a Rug Doctor,
bringing the basement carpeting back to life. This weekend I’ll be cleaning walls and beams in preparation
for the painting crew. I appear to be nesting. No, I’m not pregnant.
3) Despite the above, I’ve been working on BIRD BRAIN revisions. This round, I’m working off ‘s
comments, and am thrilled with the improvements. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful critiques I’ve received,
and am looking forward to querying soon.
4) Tuesday night I got together with who was in town. We’d never met in person but bonded
immediately and had a wonderful time in a sports bar on election night. Really. If you have to suffer through a
political crap storm, you want to do it with someone smart and funny. I’ll always remember I was with Phoebe when
I learned civil liberties champion Sen. Russ Feingold lost his re-election bid (shame on my fellow cheeseheads!)
*** IMAGINE A DELICIOUS BROWNIE SUNDAE PHOTO HERE ***
(Because we were sporting I VOTED stickers, the bar gave us a free brownie sundae but I don’t know how to
send phone pic to email).
5) Yesterday Wildebeest turned 17. I keep thinking I’m too young to have a child that old, but I guess the
facts are against me on that one.
I’ve missed everyone and hope to catch up on LiveJournal when I get a little more breathing room.
I wish you all a glorious, early November weekend!
I went out into my garden just now.
It’s not a pretty sight.
I’ve neglected it for the past couple months
as I focused on my writing projects.
Here’s Lamb’s Ear strangled with bind weed:
Yarrow upstaged by thistle:
Sunflower in a neck-and-neck race with incredibly tall thistles:
Yesterday Zebu came out in the front yard where I was busting sod,
a task I began a month or so ago.
I’m taking out a huge area of lawn to be replaced with rocks
and isolated plantings.
Zebu asked, "Do you expect to have this done by winter?"
I replied in the affirmative.
Zebu expressed some doubts.
"Not only that," I said. "But I’m also going to have the kitchen all painted
and finish my book."
He said, "Something won’t get done."
I said, "Well, it won’t be my book. I’m finishing that."
He went back inside,
and I dug out another piece of lawn.
Because I’m still in limbo waiting for feedback on CLOSE TO HOME,
I’m tackling some long overdue household projects.
Yesterday I stripped the scary green paint from kitchen cabinet doors using
this great non-toxic, soy-based paint remover.
I’m environmentally sensitive, and can’t walk in the detergent
aisle in the grocery store because of all the nasty odors.
The soy-based remover was fine for me with adequate ventilation
(I worked in my garage), and I highly recommend it.
Why use conventional products and expose yourself to a soup of toxic chemicals
that may harm your respiratory system, skin, internal organs, brain and nervous system?
Not to mention the harm to the planet from producing the stuff?
And, because I need to stick with my Write No Matter What attitude,
here is a little home improvement haiku:
So long now, green paint.
Wish you’d come with a warning:
"Best if eyes are closed."
Wildebeest didn’t have school yesterday so we spent time together.
1) I drove him to Boulder so he could run two miles on a treadmill to get a qualifying time
for the BolderBoulder on Memorial Day.
2) While in Boulder, we took our recyclables to the recycling center
where Wildebeest impressed me with his knowledge of paper board vs cardboard.
3) As we drove back on Highway 93 (which is a beautiful drive along the foothills), we watched
a courageous (foolhardy?) bird repeatedly harass a much larger hawk.
4) We talked about many things, including the fact that because a person’s sexuality encompasses
much more than a sex life, it’s reasonable to discuss Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan’s sexuality.
5) Last, we went to the DMV so Wildebeest could get his learner’s permit, and watched as a woman
backed a long, white pickup truck into a sign post right before a crying teen girl ran over and got in
the passenger’s seat (after flunking her own driving test?)
The time was filled with lots of driving and waiting, plus a scraped knuckle at the recycling center,
but it was still a very nice afternoon.
Wishing everyone scintillating conversations and teen bonding experiences this weekend!
In a little while, a friend is coming over to help me paint.
We’re going to paint bits of walls and cabinets in an
attempt to choose the right colors to de-Frankenstein my kitchen.
You see, my cabinets are now a shade of green which is tolerable in natural light
but under artificial light, is like a bad acid trip.
We have a slew of samples to choose for walls (I have one "accent" wall which is an affront to humanity)
but also these five shades of gray-black (and yes, I realize they look green and brown) for the cabinets.
Black cabinets?
Yes, black cabinets.
An interior designer floated the idea and we’re going to give it a whirl.
Five whirls, to be precise.
Have a great weekend and may you all love your kitchens just as they are!
1) While it’s good to have teen sons responsible for the weekly cleaning of their bathroom,
2) it’s probably best to now and again check on the actual "cleanliness" of said room
3) because those little microorganisms can gain an astoundingly tenacious foothold on all surfaces
4) and you will need a strong stomach plus a haz-mat suit to battle them
5) but as long as you have Jimi Hendrix on the boombox, you will PREVAIL.
Wishing everyone a happy weekend (and depending on your mental state, you may or may not want to check the kids’ bathroom).
I’ve written about the phenomenon of Northern Flickers pounding their beaks on my rain gutters.
I’ve even publicly begged their mercy since that rat-a-tat-tat makes me jump out of my proverbial skin.
Especially the metallic rat-a-tat-tat of beak on aluminum.
But the flickers ignore my feelings and persist in their rhythmic assault on my nervous system.
So I chase them away, questioning their sanity and intelligence.
There was one brief moment when I considered letting my enormous cat loose on the roof
(totally Zippy’s idea), but I refrained.
Then the other day I received an email from my friends at Wild Birds Unlimited.
And guess what?
Northern Flickers don’t pound on metal surfaces because they’re nuts.
Northern Flickers pound on those surfaces because they’re looking for love!
At least, that’s how the males go about it.
They create those loud sounds to let the females know they’re available, and to drive away other males.
(On the other hand, a slow, methodical tapping is bad news because they’re probably making a nesting hole in your wood siding).
© 2010 Tracy Abell
Anyway, that little piece of information has made a huge difference in how I handle those sudden bursts of noise.
I still don’t like it but whenever I hear it, I imagine this dude (except an actual male since I just realized this is a female!) using his beautiful, sturdy beak to find some companionship.
Call me insane, but I think that’s kind of romantic.
Just over 24 hours ago I was laughing about the obviously silly weather forecast.
Well, not only did we get a foot of snow,
we got another six inches or so for good measure.
And it’s HEAVY.
(Photo by Wildebeest)
Guess someone didn’t get the memo about it being spring.
Sheesh.
Yo, Flicker.
I get that you have a really pointy beak
and that you feel an incredible urge to utilize it.
But could you maybe focus your energy on this suet?
Or on this telephone pole that seems made-to-order for head-banging?
Just not here, okay?
Thanks so much for your understanding.
Am back from Florida trip.
Was at mother’s along with three siblings and one nephew.
We had many nice moments including laughter and teamwork
as we sorted through years of stuff.
But we also experienced some nastiness and angst.
At some point during the weekend
my sister’s husband came upon this painting at MOMA,
FAMILY PICTURE by Max Beckmann,
and forwarded it to my sister.
He said it reminded him of us:
It’s true that the painting has the exact number of family members.
But the trouble is,
my siblings and I all laid claim
to the one member leaning on a hand.
Staring into the flames.
Tracy Abell 