PREVAIL

   

 A while back I wrote about my new motto.
And last week I finally did something about it.

I contacted at Silver Freckles
and asked her to make my very own bracelet.

Last night I came home to find a package waiting.

Not only did it include my gorgeous bracelet

It also included these notes

I love my bracelet, Laura.
Every time I look at it, I think of you
and remember you believe in me.

And I start believing in myself all over again.
Thank you so much.
           

Weed Art Thou?

  

Continuing the horticulture theme,
here’s Exhibit B.

Lamb’s Ear.

Grows like a, well, weed.
Soft, furry leaves and pretty spike flowers.
Home to happy bees.

Yet.

There are those who believe it’s too invasive
for the suburban lawn.

Not pointing any fingers, Zippy.
I’m just sayin’.
           

Begrudging Admiration

         

It’s hard to hold a grudge against dandelions
when they have such an awesome seed-dispersal system.
 

This puffball will probably add another seven gajillion dandelions to my yard
next spring. 
Ah, well.

Here’s to embracing my inner weed.

             

Buster Comes A-Callin’

   

This afternoon we noticed a stray dog out in the street.
He was skittish but I lured him into our backyard with a bowl of water.

We couldn’t get close enough to read the phone number on his tags.
Not even with the binoculars.
Or the telephoto camera lens.

We took turns trying to read those numbers.
My old(er) eyes couldn’t do it.
Zebu’s young(er) eyes couldn’t do it, either.

Zippy’s efforts were thwarted by all the fur.
So he got down on the ground with binoculars and biscuits.
And coaxed the big boy closer.

It took quite some time.
But Zippy prevailed.

Turns out his name is Buster.
And he was brought to the shelter as a fence-jumper.
The good news is a new family adopted him.
Bad news is Buster’s been caught three times by Animal Control.

Today, though, he avoided an arrest.
And made some new friends.
 
                

Refocusing

       

I’m going to try looking outside myself
a bit more.
There’s been entirely too much
rummaging around inside my head.

Look around you, Tracy!
There’s much to see.

Like this cool, starting-to-fall-apart web . . .

         

Breaking the Silence

   

I don’t like it when I get out of the blogging habit.
So even though I cannot think of anything truly substantial
to add to the public discourse,
I’m posting.

Just so I can say I did.
And then tomorrow, I’ll do it again.
Blog, that is.
Hopefully, it’ll be something of greater interest
than me sharing the fact that I’ve had the Jeeves and Wooster
theme music playing in my head on a constant loop
for the past three days.

I’m hoping that taking this bold, blog action
will also get me back in the reading/commenting
habit again.

What-ho, friends!
                       

What Did You Do Today, Tracy?

  

Why, thank you for asking!

Today Zippy and I drove up to Brighton for our representative’s (Congressman Ed Perlmutter) Town Hall Meeting on health care reform.
Maybe you’ve heard about the organized disruption of Democratic representatives’ meetings as they try to talk health care reform with their constituencies.
The situation has gotten ugly.  Beyond ugly.
Zippy and I really didn’t want to go but felt obligated to push back against the lunatic fringe.

Oh, my.

I brought two signs.
This one spoke to my feelings on the issue:

Plus I wanted another sign to convey my feelings without having to scream them at people:

The second one came in real handy when the guy wearing the U.S. flag bandana,
swinging the U.S. flag (nearly poking me in the eye)
chanted "Hitler Care!  Hitler Care!"

Goethe’s quote was also useful when I was confronted with signs like this:

and this:

and this:

That last sign was pretty popular.
A group of people took turns holding it.
This woman here:

was taking her turn with the Death Pill sign when she came up to me,
presumably because of my Active Ignorance sign,
and said, "Honey, God gave me plenty of brains and I know what’s in that bill."
To which I responded by pointing to her Death Pill sign and saying, "Clearly, you’re informed.’
Then I tried taking her picture but she slammed her sign into my camera. 
That was okay since she mixed it up with everyone there,
giving me ample opportunity to document her shrieking and finger-jabbing.

Later some other woman (sign-less) asked what my Active Ignorance sign meant.
I explained it was in response to ridiculous claims such as the Death Pill.

Oh, my.
That comment unleashed a Death Pill / pacemaker rant.
Google revealed that she was apparently referring to a partial, out-of-context video clip.
Here’s the full version of Obama addressing pacemakers and end-of-life care.
(Who knew this was a raging issue on the lunatic fringe?)

Lest you think the crowd was one hundred percent nutters,
here are some signs I really appreciated:

and

and

and

The thing is, I don’t really care how much it would cost to provide quality health care to everyone in this country.
No one asked my opinion about invading and occupying two countries,
and the billions of dollars those occupations cost each and every month.
I’d rather my tax dollars heal rather than kill.

Unfortunately, a lot of fear-based, angry people descended upon a grocery store parking lot today
to shout their disagreement.
              

Feeling Invisible

        


(Couldn’t find photographer credit)

I’m starting to understand why some writers
send money, chocolate, etc. with their submissions.

Including an owl pellet is probably a really bad idea, though. 
         

Close-Up on my July 4th

     

Zippy, Zebu, and I spent about three hours
at a family picnic in a cow pasture.

You read that correctly.

Zippy’s mother’s family has land out in the country
and they’ve built a permanent picnic shelter out there.
In the midst of the cacti and cow patties.

I had a great time with my camera.

Globemallow (?) and Cow Poop

Bone At Rest

Ants At Work

Alien Insect Touring the Salad

Zebu Warding Off the Paparazzi

Wildflower Bouquet

Hope everyone had a wonderful weekend.
And that the fireworks have quit in your neighborhood.
Ahem.
                       

Zebu’s Bear

  

Last night Wildebeest’s friends trickled in
and headed down to the basement.
Zippy and I were reading in bed when
just minutes after the latest friend had arrived,
the doorbell rang.

Wildebeest went to the door.
"There’s no one there," he yelled to us.
"Someone’s playing Doorbell Ditch."

We all, including Wildebeest, assumed
it was one of Wildebeest’s less-than-mature friends.

Late this morning Wildebeest went out the front door.
And found this:

It’s a Build a Bear.
For Zebu’s birthday.
He turned 13 a couple weeks ago.

The same girl who left this bear for Zebu
last year gave him a hollowed-out basketball
filled with candy and other goodies.

She’s been Zebu’s friend since elementary school.
It makes me happy they have each other.

                 

Yes, Virginia, there is a sun

     

Despite the evidence out the window right now
and despite the past couple weeks,
Colorado does get sun.

I’d love some more sunshine.
My mental health would appreciate it, too.
We had some yesterday and we can have it again.

Come on, Sun,
do your thing! 
Please.


 
                   

Blame It On Cake

     

Elvis Costello might want to Blame It On Cain
but I know the real culprit is cake.
Specifically, Zebu-created chocolate cake.
Made in the evening.
Filled with sugar and caffeine,
ingredients not conducive to sleep.

Here it is in all it’s glory:

Don’t get too loud with your oohs and ahhs
because you might wake Zebu and Zippy.
And Lebowski and Coco and Zoey.

That’s right; it’s just me and the internets.
Blame it on cake.

          

Ginormous Whiteboard – Update

                      

This isn’t the update I envisioned.
But in the spirit of full disclosure
here’s what happens when you
(and by that I mean Zippy and me)
try loading a 5 1/2 ft x 4 ft piece of tileboard
into the back of a Prius.

Fortunately, it’s an inexpensive material.

               

Procrastination, Nevermore

Okay, so it’s a grackle rather than a raven.
And I’m no Poe.

Nonetheless.

I hereby pledge to tackle my revisions today.
I pledge to crack the characterization/plotting code
that has stymied me these past weeks and fueled my ongoing procrastination.

I will prevail.

My feathered friend assures me this is so.  


                    

Friday Five: The Z Edition

  • Good news:  Zebu’s nose is not broken (despite getting elbowed while playing basketball). 
  • More good news:  Zippy goes in this afternoon for his second stress test to adjust his target heart rate and blood pressure.
  • It’s official: My zombie-like cold symptoms are in the past (ht to C.K. who suffered her own never-ending zombie illness this winter).
  • Were you aware that Z-therapy is a form of psychotherapy in which the patient is forced by a group of people into a cathartic release of pent-up emotions?  But when the group of people is made up of three household males who insist on stacking dirty dishes on the counter above the dishwasher, does the ensuing shrieking cathartic release truly qualify as psychotherapy? 
  • This is the result of Zippy hearing a whoo-whoo outside the window in the early morning but realizing  too late the zoom lens wasn’t mounted on the camera: 

Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend.