Crabs!

 My niece keeps hermit crabs.  I forget if this one is Mr. Pincher or Bubbles.  While I don't mind them that much, they're grouped in my mind with scorpions.

Okay, they're cute in their shells, and I think it's pretty interesting how they can curl up inside a shell they've borrowed.

Apparently, one of the crabs molted the other month, which encouraged the other one to pick on it.  My niece found the newly molted crab holding its too-small shell like a shield between it and the other crab.

On the gym front:  The gym re-opened after a redecoration.  Managed to do the usual routine; naturally, my hands and shoulders are a little sore today.

On the writing front:  I ran a manuscript by the group and got the critique that it was great world-building, but had ponderous, confusing prose (I also got "same tone but less dense as a Gene Wolfe story," so that's good).  Oh well.  I'm going to sit down with a print out and look at it.

Turkeys

 Over the weekend, it was my brother-in-law's birthday.  We went to their house to celebrate.

 A local turkey flock strutted about the road outside the house.  I'm not sure if the toms were in some kind of competition or not, but whenever there was some kind of noise (like a deer sneezing), they would gobble-gobble-gobble. 






The first birds I saw were some chicks and their mother.  I thought it was interesting how the chicks used the hen's tail-feathers as a parasol. 

 When I managed to get close to the toms, they were in the middle of a beauty competition.  Their tails rattled as they shook them, which reminded me of a male peacock's display I saw long ago.







 I think I would have preferred to see a peacock, because the turkey's chest feathers look like they've been partially disemboweled in an accident, and their blue heads and blood-red wattles are unappealing. 






These turkeys reminded me of the Macey's Day Parade float, "Tom the Turkey,"  (especially when they trailed their wing tips along the ground) but having refreshed my memory, I see Tom's been made much more cute than these guys. 

Mt Pisgah in May

 Wednesday evening we herded The Child into the car for a forced march hike around Mt. Pisgah Arboretum. 











I'm trying to think when we went there last, but all I can come up with is that it must have been before The Big Snow, because there were a few more freshly downed trees and limbs (at the time, the arboretum was closed for two weeks while crews went around making sure the trails were safe).








The sun slowly set as we walked various trails.  The Child said that he wanted a mostly flat hike, so we went to the swamp bridge, and the wetlands art installation, and the river banks.










I like the swamp bridge, because there's often dragonflies or fish to see.  Tonight there were ducks hiding in the lillies.  In the grass beneath the bridge a bunny was foraging.







Afterward, we went up (hah! a trick!  we had to climb up!) to the incense cedars, which smelled the most wonderful I've ever smelled them. 







We ended up in a meadow about a fifth of the way up the slope of Mt. Pisgah; I remember one Winter-solstice-like time about ten years ago, taking a picture of one particular oak while it was shrouded in fog with a wan sun casting beams through its branches.   Today it was high white clouds with raptors in a blue sky.






Cow parsnip.  Related to the carrot.

The Willamette River.  There were raptors of some sort flying up above, but they were too far away to photograph.  The swifts over the river flew too fast.  Oh well.

Mark said these felt like scritching a cat's ear, and I've forgotten their name.

Um... a pretty purple flower!

Wild Mountain Rose.  It looked like something out of a fairy tale.

Araneus diadematus

The other day Mark looked down at the plants growing by our front door and discovered a clump of teeny, tiny, yellow spiders with little black dots on their abdomens. 

Then he discovered another clump. 

The succulent they were on had been covered in about a hundred tiny webs and they were working on colonizing a nearby fern.

The Child took one look, said, "Nope!" and retreated inside.  There was some good-natured teasing about bringing the clump inside, but Mark squashed that idea with conjecture about how ironic it would be if I turned out to be allergic to them after bringing them in.

I wondered if they were clumped together because they were cold, and tried breathing on them.  They spread out, but I think they really wanted to clump together because they didn't go very far. 

I did some quick research; I think they're Araneus diadematus (cross orbweaver) spiders, and once they get old enough, they'll go their separate ways and turn into much larger spiders.

Tuesday Night Writing

Tuesday night's writing session was more about consolidation and light editing than anything else.  I re-read a few older pieces that have made the rejection rounds at some of the top markets and satisfied myself that they're good stories, that I like them, and that they simply haven't found the right home yet.

I've gotten into a habit of focusing on submitting stories to three or four markets (or getting bogged down in the novel), with the result that there are a bunch of perfectly fine stories that have been languishing on my hard drive instead of being sent out.  I'd kind of forgotten that I actually do have a corpus of work.   Last night I made a list of pieces to send out; now I have to find markets to send them to. 

Gym and Faeries

Friday:  Went to the gym; decided to see if I could get through presses and rows if I added five pounds to my weights.  Didn't die.

Saturday:  The Child's favorite magic shop and novelty store is closing for good, so we drove up to Vancouver and visited/hung out with some friends.  For whatever reason, it didn't turn into a photo day, but we did do some other shopping in other shops.  There was one new-age store that I've been returning to to see if I could pick up a copy of the Froud/Macbeth Faerie Oracle, and after many tries, they actually had a deck in stock (I'd always been intrigued by the deck after having a reading a while back which featured the card, "Undressing a Salad").

While we were away, there were at least three lightning strikes in Eugene.  One hit a tree and closed River Road for upwards of twenty-four hours.  Driving back through Coburg we experienced a downpour of Biblical proportions; the thick rain couldn't drain off of the interstate fast enough, resulting in some scary mini-lakes.

Sunday:  Very sleepy morning.  Recovered from an errant burrito.  Sat on the couch reading through the Faerie Oracle book and pondering its differences from more traditional tarot decks.  I should have expected the slightly twee tone of the book.  I like the logic of the cards and the deck has a refreshing departure from more traditional tarot decks; it also isn't a "choose your power-animal" deck.  The cards have challenges associated with them, and tend to ask questions or suggest self-discussion topics -- so there's less "you will be disappointed by an offer of marriage" types of meanings and more "why do you suppose your marital status affects your mood so?" ones.

I am trying to decide what I think about the art.  I love Brian Froud's art... and this deck is very northwestern European (i.e. white), heteronormative, and leans toward the bodacious babes end of figure portraiture.  Seriously, the fairy cheesecake to beefcake ratio is seriously out of kilter.  There's a blank card that one is supposed to drawn one's own Faerie Guide on, and I'm tempted to paste in a photo of David Bowie as Jareth the Goblin King.

Went to the gym and repeated Friday's workout -- the gym will be closed this week and I didn't want to loose ground.

Queer Eye Fish Sticks

 Ages ago, I tried a Queer Eye Recipe for home-made fish sticks.  The idea was to make something that was gluten-free and marginally healthier for you than batter-breaded cod.

I went to the fish store and made a New Best Friend when I told them I was trying a new Queer Eye Recipe.  They didn't have the fish I was looking for--I think it was mahi-mahi--but found a suitable replacement. 

I cut the fish into strips and then coated them with egg (peers at photo to refresh memory... yeah, looks like two whole eggs).

The idea was to substitute macadamia nuts for the bread crumbs.  I ground them up in a food processor and put them into a bowl. 

Then it was a kind of assembly line:  pick up a fish strip, dunk it in the egg, flip it into the macadamia nuts, put on a plate.

Then fry them in canola oil.

I think next time I'll chop the nuts more finely because they had a tendency to fall off of the side of the fish during the frying process.  Also, the egg worked its way off of the fish and onto the chopped nuts, which made them clump up and harder to make stick to the fish.  I think next time I'll reserve some of the nuts so I can freshen the mix as I do the coating.

They came out okay.  Between the fish and nuts, it was a rich dish.  The family liked them, at least, and devoured them fairly quickly.  I think they'd go well with greens, and maybe a sweet mashed potato.

Finished Irises

The last of the irises bloomed last weekend (about May 10th).  There is one in the front driveway bed, and I'm hopeful the rainy weather we've had the last few days will extend it.  I keep saying every year that I will divide the iris bulbs, but I never do.  I guess next August I'll have to invite my folks over, have them sit in lawn chairs, and give advice on what to do. 

Rejections

In writing news, I got a rejection from the anthology I was hoping to get into.  The editor was very gracious, as I had resubmitted a piece she liked from a few years ago, and said that she'd consider it again -- but, alas, the stories that she'd put a call out for were long and there wasn't room in the anthology for mine.  So, now I have to continue to shop this story around.

I also got a thirteen-hour rejection for a short story; that's gone off to another market.  I'm always hopeful the first market will buy my pieces, but they're extremely competitive.  I've got my fingers crossed for the second market, which has proven a difficult nut for me to crack, so I'm not exactly holding my breath.

Last Sunday, Mark and Smokey were being picturesque, so I snapped some photos of them.  I didn't realize until later how Abrahamic Mark's beard makes him look; I usually don't notice his beard that much, but with the blanket he had drraped over his head, he looks like someone out of an Old Testament story, something like "Mark Among The Cats." or "Mark in the Cat's Den."  

Did not go to the gym Monday, but did go Wednesday.  I'm pleased with how the gym is working out, and I think I've hit a plateau or something -- very likely I need to increase my weights or more closely examine my diet.  

Did not write Tuesday, but did write (some) Wednesday.  Mostly, I looked at old work.... I have a fairy tale set on Venus  I've been tinkering with that I should see about fixing and finishing.  If I'm very good, I could have it ready by then end of next week (looks at calendar).  For fun, I polished up the sex farce, which made me laugh as I was writing it.... so at least it's funny. 


Thursday morning, I dreamed my hair was suddenly long and Fabio-like.  

Rain and Uncle Ron

More typical Oregon weather has returned:  today it might get up to 70F and currently it's raining.  Tuesday, I was in Corvallis, and before the sun was up I went out onto my folks eastern facing deck.  Rain had begun, and I stood with my hands outstretched to receive the touch of the rain as it fell on my palms.  Raucous bird calls echoed between the trees, and I was reminded how praising the rain in a rural area is different from praising the rain as I walk from a parking lot to work, or even in my own backyard.

Tuesday we drove up to Astoria and laid my Uncle Ron into the ground.  He was a good, generous man with a hearty laugh who lived fully.  Tuesday was just family, and there will be a more public memorial later on in the summer. 

I thought I might dream about him or Astoria Tuesday night, but all I can recall is something about our black cat, Cicero.

Last Irises of Spring

The irises for Spring 2019 are through.  Unless there's one more hiding somewhere.  It's too bad that my allergies were so bad this year that I really didn't get a chance to enjoy the irises like I normally do.   Usually, I make an almost ritual of sitting down, bringing the irises slowly to my face, and inhaling their heavy perfume.   This year, I was too busy sneezing (and napping).    Oh well, I'm hoping next year we'll have more blooms and kinder allergy season.

On our latest hike to the Delta Ponds area, we saw a bunch of baby ducks and geese.  I think the most interesting ducks were the ones that looked like they were wearing Egyptian mascara. 

We keep hoping that we'll see the otter we saw the other month, but so far we've seen mostly nutria, and maybe maybe a beaver. 

It occurs to me that while we tend to see lots of ducklings, no baby cranes have been spotted yet.  I guess they hang out in the nest in trees.

Arbor Vita Henge

This time of year, around 6:15 AM we get our own little version of Stonehenge with the arbor vita hedge.

Honest Trailers Version of Palm Sunday

We join the dream in progress...

The time and place is the ministry of Jesus in Jerusalem.  The tone is a cross between *Jesus Christ, Superstar* and *Honest Trailers*.  A narrator's voice says, "Now, if Jesus knew that Caesar wanted to kill him when he entered Jerusalem, if he'd bumped into Caesar, He would have AVERTED his face.

Jesus, walking through the city gates.  

Various townsfolk milling around.

Caesar, wearing red and white, with a few centurions, walking the other way.

Narrator:  "Jesus, AVERT!  Jesus  AVERT!"

Jesus obviously jumps, angles off and hunches over to His right, abruptly brings His left hand up to cover His face.  Caesar and centurions walk right by him, oblivious.  

Narrator (continuing):  "And the people when they saw Him would not have shouted out His name, because that would have brought Caesar.  

Various People of Jerusalem:  "Hey!  It's JESUS!"  "Hosanna JESUS" (Looking back over their shoulders at a retreating Caesar and Centurions, who continue to walk out the gates of Jerusalem as if nothing's wrong.)  Jesus gives them a 'shut up' look and makes little shooshing motions with His hands.  "JESUS!" (Still no reaction from the Romans.  They continue in the manner of middle-school students trying to get a rise out of a substitute teacher.)  "JESUS! JESUS! JESUS!"   Nothing.

Scene break.  Caesar and Jesus are no longer in the dream.   A social hall or a long, wide stone street.  People of Jerusalem have gathered along ether side of the passage.   Slowly, the people coalesce into two large circles, side by side.  Focus on a forty-something woman in grey Bible-garb.  "Oh Lord, we give thanks that You are here, and we joyfully accept Your story, embracing your pedigree, your plan, your vision--everything!-- in it."  As she has been speaking, her circle has grown tighter and more distinct.  

Pan to the other circle.  Someone says, "Oh Lord, we are glad You are here, and we like You a lot, but we're still debating all the other stuff.  I mean, over all, Your message is great and all, but... well... some of the details just don't add up."  A woman, whose strips of Bible-garb clothing have not been put on as well as a lot of the other folks', moves from the first circle to the second.

First woman (kind of irritated):  "Hey.  You were in our circle."

Second woman (flustered, looks down):  "I, um, I changed my mind." 

... and then the dream moved on to an SCA-style gathering....

Week In Review

Lately I've been checking my e-mail to see if I've got an acceptance for a manuscript I sent last January.  The editor said they'd get back to me in May, and here it is the first third of the month.  I've got my fingers crossed, and I am trying my hardest not to get my hopes up. 

Last Friday, after increasing symptoms and difficulties starting, the starter mortor in our car went out.  We'd scheduled maintenance, but it wasn't until Monday.  Luckily, I was at work, and I was able to get a tow to the garage, but it meant that I couldn't take The Child to see Avengers: Endgame.  Waiting in the parking lot, with movie tickets to a show we wouldn't see, felt like it should have been part of "Traveling to the Airport" anxiety dream, but all I really felt was resigned.  The Child was totally fixated, not on the car, nor the fact that he'd have to walk two miles home from school, but on when we'd see the movie.  

Saturday was a new moon day, and I'm sure we did stuff, but I think we were really tired.  Also, there was a fatal shooting in the parking lot where I normally park for work.  

Saw Endgame Sunday morning.  Despite all my efforts, I really had to use the bathroom about a half-hour before the movie ended.  I liked Avengers: Infinity War more than Endgame, partially because Endgame was more focused on the end arc of Captain America and Ironman, and I would have liked more and better treatment of some of the other Avengers.  And while the fatness as an outer sign of a character's emotional distress in the movie has been done before in the comics (New Mutants c 1985), it seemed like lazy shorthand that could have been addressed by good acting.

Drove out of the mall just in time to see the staging of an "Oregon Women for Trump Flag Waving Rally."  And counter-protest.  The Child and I paused our discussion of the History of the X-Men and New Mutants to have an exchange ending with me not pulling the steering wheel out of the dashboard and saying, "while I think they're the Pawns of Evil, I'm glad they're exercising their constitutional right to freedom of expression."  I was surprised at my visceral and tribal reacton them.   And then we continued with the Marvel History of 1980's X-men Era (Muslim Travel Ban, er, I mean...) Mutant Registration Laws.  Probably five minutes after we drove over the Harlow Road Bridge, the two groups closed it as they shouted at each other over a line of Springfield Police who were there to keep the two groups from rioting.  

Monday.  Between car rental, car maintenance, and a lot of driving, I somehow managed to get the car back from the garage in time to pick up The Child from school.  Went to the gym and managed most of the workout -- I usually spend some time on the sideways elliptical, but I ran out of time. 

Tuesday I did the final polishing on two short stories -- mostly it's just little tweaks to make character motivation, staging, and plot less confusing.  I was working in the back lounge of a little bar downtown. In the past the lounge has been just me writing, with occasional other patrons.  This week the lounge was Therapy Session Central.  Loud Therapy.  I was glad I had headphones.  Phrases like, "abandonment issues," "betrayed by the community," and "what am I doing this for?" did seep in over the Stary Olsa I was writing to.  Mark says I should have just transcribed the conversations to use for dialog. 

Wednesday I did a final cleaning pass on the short story manuscripts and sent one out.  Then I went to the gym and managed a full -- if out of the usual order while I waited for equipment -- workout.

The tree pollen is very thick this year.  Usually, only my eyes are itchy, but this year I've had more than my fair share of sinus headaches and scratchy throats.  The fatigue is the worst.   April was very wet, but the last ten or so days have been sunny with highs in the 70's and 80's, which I suppose it contributing to the particulates.  I'm hoping we get some rain soon, because the wet April plants are drying out and creating a fire hazard.  Mark purchased an air filter for our room, which I think helps, but Wednesday night Mark was so congested that his snoring forced me to the couch.

Thursday morning I woke up early enough (5:30) to see a wan Venus in the eastern sky.  I'd flirted with getting up at 5 (thanks, cats) and managed to see Mars, but it had dimmed a half hour later and I couldn't find it.   As I was brewing tea for an outside writing session, I checked my e-mail, and saw that I had a 13-hour rejection for the drawing room short story I'd sent out the day before.  The market is very fast and very hard to get into, so I guess I'm not too surprised, but I was sort of hoping they'd look at it for a few more days.

Snakes and Weirdness

The last few days have been weird.  The car had been slowly failing to start, and completely died Friday afternoon (a few days ahead of a scheduled maintenance).  Early Saturday morning there was a fatal shooting near the parking lot where I work.  The pollen is making Mark sleep a lot.  Sunday, as we were leaving the showing of "Avengers: Endgame," we drove by a two political rallies gearing up for a demonstration and counter- demonstration (luckily, we got out before they closed down Harlow Road).

Cicero has caught two snakes in the last two days.  I was going to say that it was the first caught snake of Spring, then I remembered the snake the crows ate on Easter Sunday morning.  So far he hasn't eaten them, but he brings them to the backyard to play with and I find them coiled up into a knot or trying to bury themselves in the grass.  I've been relocating them to the azalea on the theory that they can get under the bush where Cicero can't, they won't be easy for the crows to get, and the neighbors won't think I'm making a statement by bringing snakes to their yards.

Gym, Cats, and Pollen

Went to the Gym Wednesday night for a pre-Beltane workout.  Managed to complete my usual workout, plus some Romain chair curl-ups.  Yay. 

The last week has been sunny and dry and filled with pollen.   This makes doing anything outside a little difficult.  Luckily, the new air filter in the bedroom compensates some. 

Two Decades

Twenty years ago today, I moved into a cute little rental with my now-husband, Mark.

We had been dating and having a long-distance relationship between Eugene and Corvallis for about two years prior.  Mark was working as a lab technician at a medical lab.  I resigned from my help desk manager job with a Corvallis ISP and had just taken an IT job with the University of Oregon (specifically so I could live in Eugene).

I'm very lucky to be with Mark and love him very much.