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domestic scenes
How to multi-task during March Madness
Today is the first day of March Madness which means basketball ALL DAY LONG. And I confess that I’ll watch these games ALL DAY LONG. However, I got up and got some stuff done before the tournament started. I did maintenance on my two worm bins (mite infestation YUCK) and worked on my writing project. But since then I’ve been parked in front of the television, switching between games (where there have already been two nail-biters, yo). In my defense, I am multi-tasking.
Here I am shredding newspaper for the worm bins. Not only does it relieve some guilt regarding the time I devote to watching men’s college basketball, it turns out that ripping paper into strips is a good way to let off steam when the team I’m rooting for is behind.
Shred on.
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Wordless Wednesday: Camouflaged Cat Edition
Curiouser and curiouser
Friday Haiku
Sunday morning coming down
Welcome, Emma
Zippy and I adopted another dog today.

Can’t really tell from the above photo, but Emma is a whole lot of Corgi. And you know what that means…
Okay, that’s still not a great representation (she’s hard to photograph because she likes to be on the move). But trust me, she’s got an unusual build. Despite her looks, she’s very strong and fast.
Zippy took this next one with his phone which means not-so-great quality. However, even that old phone can’t prevent Zoey’s happiness from shining through.

We’re happy to restore the household balance back to 2 humans, 2 cats, and 2 dogs. (Not to mention the approximately 2k worms in the basement.) As for the name “Emma,” it’s growing on me. She’s answered to that name for at least the last year so we’re loathe to confuse her with another. We temporarily floated “Gemma” but Zebu immediately responded to that text with “She’s adorable, but you’re gonna have to change that name.” Wildebeest said “Gemma” reminds him of some psycho female character on Sons of Anarchy.
Emma is starting to sound better and better.
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Vermiculture or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Worms
These days there isn’t even the option of pretending not to see the bad things being done to the planet and its inhabitants. Agent Orange and the Billionaires’ Club are taking what was formerly done on the down-low, cranking it up a couple hundred notches, and shoving it in our faces. Anger, anxiety, and despair (just to mention a few) are running high. I’ve made tons of phone calls and sent emails, and while those are important tasks, I’m not feeling overly swell about my influence on Washington, D.C.
Enter the worms.
Back in mid-December, I blogged about nabbing some free wooden drawers off Craigslist. I wanted them for worm bins. And now, after lots of reading and research, I’m pleased to say Zippy and I have converted some of those drawers into worm bins.
Zippy did all the construction. He drilled holes in the bottoms of the bins and ventilation holes on both sides. Then he lined the bins with shade cloth.
I prepared the bedding using newspaper, phone book, egg cartons, toilet paper rolls, and an ancient newsprint drawing pad that I must’ve brought with me from North Hollywood (via Santa Rosa, Bakersfield, and Anchorage). Yes, I sometimes lean “hoarder.” But hey, isn’t it cool that the worms are benefitting from my issues?!
On Saturday, we went to pick up our two pounds of worms from a worm farmer in the Denver area. Unfortunately, I don’t have photographic documentation of our worms’ homecoming because I was focused on getting them out of the cloth sack and into their prepared bins. But here’s a fair representation of what those worms looked like when I released them from the sack:
And here’s a quick and slightly blurry overview of the bin in use (didn’t want to dawdle since worms are light-sensitive):
The worms are working away in the damp shredded paper, etc., beneath a damp “blanket” of newspaper. They’re eating our kitchen scraps and their bedding. They’re helping me feel less horrified about my footprint on this planet.
Today the Senate voted to confirm a wealthy, unqualified, anti-public school fundamentalist to head the Department of Education. I had no influence over that vote. I do, however, have control over my worms’ well-being and my household contribution to landfills.
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Twofer Tuesday: lounge lizards
Marcel up top, watching me closely while Loki, down below, does his best impression of a narcoleptic. A much better photographer than me would be able to balance the harsh sunlight with the white fur and black fur. Makes me long for the days in the darkroom when I could dodge and burn the image. But because I should be working on my writing project rather than messing with this, I’ll let it go.
Apologies for the glare. (HA! I made a pun.)
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It’s a family affair
Yesterday morning, Wildebeest woke up early to drive the six hours back home. At the same time, Zebu was on a flight out of London to Denver. Wildebeest got here an hour before Zebu landed at the airport.
Zippy and I haven’t seen either of them since mid-August and we all have lots of catching up to do. In the last 24 hours, there have been many overlapping conversations and bursts of laughter. Both sons are introducing new topics to the discussions, touching on the lives they’re now living, but we also keep to our usual “script” which includes Arrested Development references and cat jokes. And basketball. Always basketball in the script.
This morning it was a spirited debate re Michael Jordan vs LeBron James as Best Player of All Time. We’ve also discussed the way college player Grayson Allen trips other players as compared to Golden State Warrior Draymond Green’s kicking players in the crotch, and who deserves to be suspended. Right now, one of Zebu’s high school basketball teammates is here and they’re talking about basketball intramural games at their respective colleges.
Basketball. Basketball. Basketball.
A familiar song I’m happy to hear.
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Friday Haiku
Wordless Wednesday: Portrait of a Lazy
You can teach an old dog new tricks
Zoey has lived with us for the past eleven years and for the majority of those years, remained in either the house or yard. She (and Coco) didn’t get to go on neighborhood walks (or open space hikes) because they were out of control on leashes. When they saw another dog, no matter how far off in the distance, they’d bark, growl, lunge, and generally behave in a bat-shit manner.
At one point early on, we spent a whole lot of money to have a personal dog trainer work with us. That strategy ultimately failed because of a lack of consistency. The dogs responded to me as the alpha, but couldn’t care less about pushover-Zippy’s commands or young Wildebeest and Zebu with their high voices and unassertive attitudes. The dogs still believed they were the alphas who needed to protect the pack.
It all came to a head years ago when I took Zoey and Coco for a walk. They went nuts when they saw another dog, and in their ensuing barking / twirling / lunging, knocked me to the ground. Both my knees were thoroughly black and blue.
That was it for me. I no longer felt guilty about having two dogs that never, ever left the yard.
And then Coco died. To help Zoey through her grief, we started walking her once a day. I’ll admit that it hasn’t been an entirely pleasant experience (one walk lasted a full three minutes because I had to drag Zoey home after she went ballistic at the sight of another dog), but I am pleased to say we’re having some enjoyable walks. Today’s, for example.
Zoey still has an alpha attitude, but she’s older and wiser (and a little less strong). I’m grateful we can give our old girl the gift of a daily walk.
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29 degrees of Thankful Thursday
Yesterday and today have been frigid in these parts. The kind of cold that makes my teeth ache and my nostril hairs stick together as soon as I step outside. I’ve toted my space heater from room to room while waging an internal debate on the pros and cons of life in Florida or Arizona or Texas. (Okay, that’s melodramatic hyperbole.) However, the stuff about my nostril hairs is true.
But at this moment, I’m thankful for the promise of better things:
That’s a 29 degree swing in the right direction, and I’ll take it!
As that Little Orphan Annie with the freakishly blank eyes is fond of saying:
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow ….
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My good, bad, and ugly
Today we pulled the plug on our telephone land line (I know, I know) and our television/cable. That felt really good. We now have an antenna and streaming service to cover our various viewing habits. (Note: we just watched a couple minutes of college basketball and, oh my, the clarity brought tears to my eyes. Also? Jim Boeheim somehow looks even more grumpy in high definition.)
We didn’t cut the internet service yet because we want to get everything in place with new email addresses first, plus I need to go through my 5000+ email inbox to delete and save accordingly. Oh, joy.
And even though I’m not looking forward to that task, I’m pleased we’re enough on top of things here at the ol’ homestead that we didn’t totally eff up that transition. Too bad I can’t say the same for cutting the cable cord. We just discovered that FX isn’t part of the streaming package we bought which means that I can’t finish watching the excellent BETTER THINGS starring Pamela Adlon (who co-created and writes it with Louis C.K.)
I was stupidly savoring the episodes rather than inhaling them in one sitting. And now I can’t finish the season. I’d classify that as very sad-bad news.
Wouldn’t you know the one time evil Comcast immediately responds to my request, it’s to disconnect my service?!
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Synchronized sunbathing
Friday Haiku / Flashback Friday
Wordless Wednesday: Two Dudes Edition
Friday Haiku
Coco, RIP
Joined the family August 18, 2005
Said goodbye November 17, 2016
You came to us as Cocoa, and Wildebeest changed that to Coco.
Over the years you were our Coco Sue, Susan, and Speckled Snake Dog.
No matter the name, you were always our funny friend
with the big eyes and catfish whiskers.
You could run faster and see farther than anyone,
and now you can do that forevermore.
Plus eat all the poop you want.
Rest in peace, Coco Sue.
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Wings of a dove

Imprint after Mourning Dove hit the window (click to enlarge). Never saw the bird after that, so I believe it recovered and flew away. We have since applied window alert stickers to prevent further collisions.
For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.
~ Leonardo da Vinci
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Wordless Wednesday: the last night edition*
Hungry hounds

Zoey and Coco are watching us closely (despite the nose smears on the glass), well-aware the 6:30 p.m. feeding is nigh.
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Hello, Monday
Took a cue from Marcel, and spent the day reading and revising in our patch of sunshine.

Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.
~ Walt Whitman
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Chair sharks
This morning I settled into a chair to work. A while later, I got up for a coffee refill and returned to find an interloper:

Loki bares his teeth to keep me from reclaiming the chair. (Actually, his black fur makes him ridiculously difficult to photograph which results in lots of these blurred “action” shots.)
In my family, we call that getting sharked. As in, “Loki just sharked my chair.”
Anyway, I was feeling generous so I moved to another chair, one that actually suited me better because it’s next to a window and big patch of warm sunshine, and worked there for some time. I then left to take care of something in another room and when I returned, found this:
Sharked again!
Maybe I should bring the rocking chair up from the basement. I’ve heard that cats get real nervous around those . . .
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