Friday Krampus Crawl

Friday night, I went on the 2nd Annual Eugene Krampus Krawl.

It was fun, although it was more about drinking than it was processing around dressed up as Krampus.  I threw on assorted renaissance faire garb (black cloak, paisley vest, black-and-silver scarf), and wished later that I'd remembered to wear a tail and some faux-fur.  There were about twenty or so folks at the first bar we started at, and they were in various furry things.  There were at least three very good masks, and a lot of home-made costumes.  I particularly liked the masks made with tin foil, masking tape, paint and dust.  One woman came dressed as a bad child and was being led around by one of the better-looking Krampuses.  A local artist put together this Krampus-fox chimera.

We gathered outside the first bar (I'd kind of wished that I'd come a little later, as I ended up not knowing anyone -- although I did make some new Krampus friends) and then walked about ten blocks to the second bar on the krawl.  By this time, one of the organizers had loaned me a walking staff and a metallic clanker to make noise with.  Some of the Krampus folks were really into it, calling for parents to bring out Bad Children, and making scary faces at various onlookers.

The People of Eugene for the most part either had no idea what was going on and crossed to the other side of the street, or else they knew about Krampus already and waved at us.

We wound up at the local Queer Bar.  I hung out for a little while, but since the next day was filled with Holiday Family Obligations, I bailed out instead of continuing the Krawl to the next two bars and The Big Krampus Party at the end destination.

When I got home, Mark suggested that next year I help out.  Since I'd already channeled my Inner Capricorn and self-appointed myself the tail-end parade marshal (and helped stragglers cross intersections since I could actually see out from under my cloak's hood), I'm thinking that helping out wouldn't be such a bad idea.


One the gym front, I had a very late night at the Gym doing The New Routine.

Horrible Day and Gym Report

Yesterday was a bad day.  I was in a funk (probably from the weather), ordered equipment for work came in with missing parts (again), a story in the mail got returned when the market it was at folded, and I noticed a poem about cultural appropriation someone had put up that appeared to bash white gay "witchy" males specifically.  I fought off feelings of being dead inside by propping up the corners of my mouth with my index fingers and whispering "Let's pretend to be happy."

I went to the gym, although I didn't want to.  And did The Old Routine.  I've lost a little bit of strength in my biceps, if barbell weight is any measure, but the routine felt good and I wasn't totally wiped out by the end,

Afterward, Mark and I went out of dinner while The Child attended a school function.

Gym and Cats

Went to the gym and did a start-up version of the New Routine on Saturday.  Resumed my usual schedule (sort of) and managed to get to the gym again Monday afternoon.  Had a very short chat with my trainer, who reminded me that with a lot of the exercises, I want to be focusing on my abdominals (since I'd asked for something to help me develop better abs).

The grey December has me kind of low energy.  This morning, I managed to catch sight of Arcturus and Spica, but not much else.  I thought maybe today would be a sunny day, but the clouds rolled in and made the sky misty and grey.  We need the rainfall (and the snow pack), and at least the rain is good for clearing out any air inversions.

The cats were looking at me this afternoon as if I were responsible for the rain that was, yes, indeed still falling out of the sky and making the yard wet.

Ankenaten

This has been a strange week; I've felt disjointed time-wise:  Wednesday felt like Friday, Tuesday felt like Monday, Thursday felt like Wednesday.  I'm blaming The Child's school schedule; the first day of their second trimester was Tuesday.  I suppose I'm also blaming the long Thanksgiving weekend.

I, thankfully, managed to catch a viewing of the Metropolitain's Ankenaten, Philip Glass's, opera.  I liked the first act the most; the opera is more a series of vignettes loosely following the rise and fall of Ankenaten, and by the end there's a sense of time leaving behind nothing but ashes and inscrutable anonymity.  Which isn't bad, but does leave one feeling exhausted. 

 Despite its minimalism, I enjoy Glass's music.  The cyclical nature of it is meditative, but at times I found myself tensing up in my seat.  The orchestra's relentless throb feels like the massive machinery of the cosmos, which makes my body want to move in sympathy to it.  Or possibly leap out of the way.

The singers were good; they managed to sing twenty minutes of repetitive "aahs!" and ancient language fragments in time with the orchestra while moving glacially across the stage in forty pound costumes.   

I did wish that the singer playing Amenhotep III had made different choices.  I'm used to a British voice solemnly intoning the narrative, and this version's singer went more for a breathy and impassioned delivery.  My favorite part of Ankenaten is the love poem, spoken first as a prayer to a god, and repeated as adoration to a lover... and, didn't get either sense this time around.  I suppose I'm one of those Ankenaten fans who want to get up and recite the poem and I had to restrain myself a little during the show.  

The costuming was deliberately anachronistic:  a mixture of ancient Egyptian, Renaissance England, and modern fashions.  I liked the High Priest of Amon's and Queen Tyre's costumes the most--probably because they were the most Egyptian looking (also, The High Priest was hot; had a Egyptian rod of dominon; giant, clunky rings; and a fabulous cloak).  I thought Ankenaten's first costume--with fused doll's heads for shoulder pads--was ugly, odd, and distracting.

The set worked well.  It wasn't overbearingly cool, like the set to The Magic Flute.  Like the music, it was minimal scaffolding--but it invoked a hieroglyphic frieze.  

The Metropolitan played up the ten jugglers in the cast who juggled small balls, pins, and beach balls throughout the opera.  They were dressed like mummies in desert camouflage, which allowed them to manipulate the set like the darkly garbed puppeteers in The Magic Flute.  The juggling was supposed to echo the cyclic nature of the music, and for the most part, it did.  Occasionally, I found myself thinking it was gimmicky.  It worked best during the first battle scene, the founding of Armana, the Hymn to the Sun scene, and during the priest-led revolt at the end.   

Several hours after the opera, I still had echos of Phillip Glass music in my head.  I thought I would dream about Egypt, or Egyptian gods, or have some overly ornate theatre dream--but I didn't.  

Post Thanksgiving

Gym Report:  Returned to the gym after a Thanksgiving hiatus last Wednesday and Friday.  Did the new routine, plus some lat-pull-downs and triceps extensions (which I've been adding to the aerobic routine so my arms don't deflate).

Thanksgiving week was difficult for our family, my folk's German Shepherd had to be euthanized for age-related nerve failure (her back legs essentially became disconnected and limp).   Not quite as troubling, our house had some computer difficulties, which has meant using secondary systems and figuring out what to do with digital photographs.

On the writing front:  I got two story rejections on Thanksgiving Sunday from markets that had been holding onto the stories for an extra long time (one had been short-listed).  On the down side, they were rejections (I knew the short-listed story had a less than 50% chance, but still).  On the up side, one market called me a "strong writer" and encouraged me to submit something else and the other market really liked the story (just not enough to buy it).  The number of stories I have in the mail is now fairly low, and I should market what I've got.

Looking at what I'm working on now, it could be summarized as "girl tries to join the circus, and they don't take her."  Hmm, no parallels there.  Since I have a trunk story, "boy tries to join the circus..." I'm thinking I need to revisit this theme.

Gym Report

Went to the gym Friday night and Monday night.  Did the usual new routine.  I'm feeling a little less wiped out by it each day... and I'm beginning to see some developing cuts in my abdominal region.   So that's good.  Take that, up-coming 50-something birthday!

Venus Almost Conjunct Jupiter

Last night's big adventure was taking photographs of Venus and Jupiter.  I was a little over-enthusiastic, and went clumping up the hill with my camera and tripod around 4:40, just as the sun set.  The extra time searching for a suitable west-facing spot was rewarded, though, as our part of the valley brings an early sun- and planets-set.

I set up at a street corner (sort of near a street-lamp, as it turned out).  I'm pretty sure that no local residents were too freaked out by a heavily jacketed person hovering over a camera, pointed vaguely west.  Around 5:15 Venus became obvious enough for me to find it -- I kept casting about, worried that I'd be looking and looking for Venus and Jupiter, only to find them hiding behind a tree, five seconds before they set.

What I learned was.

An f-stop of 8 will bring out the reds and purples in a evening sky.   An f-stop of 1will flatten the color.   Also, a f-stop of 1 has a narrow field-of-focus; 8 has a wider field.   I think, also, that an f-stop of 1 is more likely to bring out the snow-flake asterism effect when Venus is over-exposed (hmm, I'll have to check on this, because it seems backward).

Venus will wash out and over-saturate its pixels at a lower f-stop and a longer exposure time.

Starting at a half-second, at extreme zoom (55mm and above), exposure times above a half second will begin to show streaked planets as they move in their orbits.

Whoa!  An ISO of 400 will show up the moons of Jupiter!  Without streaking.  It does, however, increase the graininess of the photograph with extra noise.

Changing the field of view (wide or zoom) requires slight adjustment to the focus.

For most astro shots, I'm thinking that I want a f-stop of 8, a shutter speed of about a fourth or eighth of a second, and an ISO of 100.   For Jupiter's moon shots, I think I want a midnight Jupiter, an ISO of 400, and a fourth of a second exposure.

I have to make a note-card with all of this on it so I can remember correctly for next time.  Sunday (11/24) is a Big Astro day, as the Moon will be conjunct Mars early in the morning (fingers crossed against fog) and Venus and Jupiter make their closest conjunction in the evening (fingers crossed against rain).

Full photoset here:  https://photos.app.goo.gl/354ESCRxbCLkrUNJ7

Art Mystery

I was going through some pictures of New York, and I saw a picture of a dog sculputre from a building near the Morgan.

  

and I thought to myself,  wait... that looks like a medieval belt buckle that's in the MET...

which turned out to be a griffon, not a dog.  

Still... the borders are similar, and the stance of the animals and their tails, are, too.  Sort of.  Mark wondered if maybe the stonemason worked from a pattern book or other source that borrowed from the mediaeval design.  

Gym Updates

On the gym front:  Managed to do the New Routine Monday night and Wednesday.  Wednesday, I must have pressed myself a little too much, because Mark said I "looked like I'd been hit by a truck." I'm trying to decide if my body simply is going into shock, or if it's exhausted its supply of glucose or ATP or whatever.  Monday didn't seem so bad, but I'd gone to the gym later in the day, about two hours after dinner.  Maybe I would have been less wiped out Wednesday if I'd had a few more carbs in the mid-afternoon.

On the sky front:  it looks like some cold and clear weather is coming our way.  For once we might actually be able to see various conjunctions:  The Moon and Mars in the morning, and Jupiter and Venus in the evening.   Now that I've managed to locate the ISO setting for my camera, I'm hoping that I'll be able to get some better photos of the planets and stars -- we'll see, a higher ISO might mean over-saturated pictures of the moon.

Hatfield Marine Science Center

Slightly delayed post because there was some kind of funny delay with my photos... it's fixed now.   Saturday (11/16) we went to the coast and spent a lot of time at the Hatfield Marine Science Center.  I'm trying to think when I was there last and I want to say it must have been over a decade.

We managed to catch an octopus feeding session.  The most interesting part was how the handler kept having to peel octopus suckers off of her forearm and fingers.  The octopus gets a ton of toys; apparently each arm has its own brain, so it has the capacity to tactilely explore multiple items at one time.

There were some baby rays, which were spookily adorable.

And some tube fish.

I gathered up enough pluck to touch a sea urchin, but it was slightly freaky.




There were a multitude of manipulative wave-science displays for exploring electrical generation, erosion and TSUNAMIS!  I think the tsunami display got the most play because artificially generated waves knock over (loose) lego "houses."



I had to put my camera into manual, because the infra-red range finder is in the same category as flashes.  I need to find the control for changing the ISO; the default seems to be 100, which is too slow for photographing fish (and birds, now that I think about it).  On automatic, the camera will kick the ISO up to 800, so I know it's possible to change the setting.

On the Gym Front:  Did The New Routine Friday (11/15) followed with some cable presses and cable pulls, and some lat pull-downs.  With all the focus on aerobics and ab-work, I'm suspicious I'm losing definition in my arms and chest.  Part of me feels a little like going to the gym six days a week and alternating between the New and Old Routines... but that feels a little like overkill.

Aging

On the gym front:  went Wednesday (11/13) and managed to clear up some misconceptions with my trainer about the New Routine.    It's not killing me as much as it was the first two times, so I'm hopeful that I'll start to see some kind of results soon -- I already feel like it's doing something with my metabolism, but that might simply be light-headedness from all the heavy breathing.

On the writing front:  It's going slowly.  I feel like I'm writing a lot of setting with little to no plot (or at least low stakes).   Insert regular "I need to be more disciplined" rant here.  A flash piece has been short-listed at one market, and about five weeks ago they said to wait a month.  I'm hoping that's good.

On the music front:  Helium Vola continues to be on my heavy rotation music list.  I should make a master list with them, Stary Olsa and maybe Enya.

The other day, Mark and I were talking about my age.  Mark seemed a little surprised that aging is vexing me.  Usually, it doesn't, mostly because I really don't dwell on it.  But when it does force its way to my forethoughts, it strikes me as odd that Star Wars: A New Hope came out over forty years ago;  that I've owned a lizard lapel pin sine 1991, which is eight years older than my student intern, and only something like two years older than the World Wide Web; and that I'm slightly older than my dad was when I was a senior in college.  And it's not possible for someone who is still thirty-five in his head to have memories (and own objects) that are over forty years old.

Mark said that it's his job to remind me of my age, and then proceeded to talk in his toothless-old-man voice.  About things like dentures.  And bowel movements.  I've repressed the precise content, but I do recall that I didn't appreciate it.  I guess I'll have to get him a intaglio Death with the motto "Momento Mori" for him to wear.

The New Routine

Here's my new aerobic routine [edited 11-13-19 with additional instructions from my trainer]:

Lying Chest Press:  You can't hide your lying eyes, and I guess you can't hide your lying chest, either.    Hold a 30 lb barbell at about medium width (slightly wider than shoulders).  Lie down on a bench, with the bar of the barbell at about sternum level; upper-arm should make about a 45 degree angle with the trunk.  Lift barbell, being careful not to pop at the top.  Repeat until your arms fall off (about 24 reps).  Final reps should be slow and controlled.

Suitcase Crunch:  Lie down on bench.  Knees bent and heels on one end of bench. Arms at ears.  Tuck your chin to activate abs.  Squeeze abs and bring elbows to knees.  Exhale on the squeeze.  Don't tense up and try to hold elbows and knees together forever.  Release; making sure to tap heels on the end of the bench.  Repeat until you feel like a worn out accordion (about 24 reps).  Final reps should be slow and controlled.

Jump Squat:  Start standing straight.  Move hips back into a squat while bringing hands forward to counter-balance.  Straighten with a little jump.  Little.  Make sure to keep feet and knees under hips so you don't torque the outside or inside of your legs.  Repeat until you think your quads are going to pop your kneecaps off (about 24 reps).

20 second rest.

Standing Bent-Over Row:  Pick up a 30 lb barbell and hold it in an overhand hold at about shoulder width.  Straddle the bench so that you can squeeze it with the upper part of your shins. . . and then you do a row, just touching the bench with the center part of the barbell in such a way that you don't throw out your lower back, which probably involves hinging your hips and not bending your knees as much as you probably are.  [Edited: maintain eye contact with your reflection in the mirror to help keep your back straight.]  This should feel like a row, except with more leg work.

Wide-leg Suitcase Crunch:  Lie down on bench.  [Edited:  Tuck chin.]  Knees bent and heels on one end of bench.  Knees spread apart in a way that you hope doesn't make you look too much like a dance extra in a Madonna show.   Arms straight up and palms together.  Squeeze abs and bring hands/arms between legs so that outside elbows are touching inside knees.  Release; making sure to tap heels on the end of the bench.  Repeat until you feel like a worn out 80's Pop Star (about 24 reps).  Final reps should be slow and controlled.

Sumo Jump Squat:  Stand with a wide stance.  Feet should be turned out a little so your knees travel over them.  Feel your chi.  Bring your fists up so they rest over your pectoral muscles.  Move hips back into a squat.  [Edited: maintain eye contact with your reflection in the mirror to help keep your back straight.]  There's no way anyone's going to push you out of a sumo ring.  Straighten.  Repeat until your quads are going to explode (about 24 reps).

20 second rest.

Seated Overhead Press:  Pretty straight-forward.   Hold a 30 lb barbell in a medium, overhand hold.  Sit on the bench.  Raise the barbell over your head; lower it in a controlled fashion until the bar is about even with your nose.  Repeat until your biceps screaming for you to stop is louder than the verses of "I'm too sexy for my shirt" playing in your head.  Final reps should be slow and controlled (about 20).

Seated Knee Tuck:  Sit on the bench with your legs on the same side of and perpendicular to the long axis of the bench.  Grasp the bench with both hands on either side of your hips.  Lean back a little.  Bring both knees up to your chest.  Exhale.  Lower your lets until your feet touch the floor.  Repeat until you feel the Fire in your Belly (about 24).

Long Jump:  It's long jumps.  Like in track.  Only without a sand pit.  Crouch, hinging at the hips and bending at the knees.  Swing arms for forward motion.  Jump.  Pause after you land to make sure you've set properly.  Repeat until your legs feel funny (about 24).

20 second rest.

Seated Overhead Extension:  Pretty straight-forward.   Hold a 30 lb barbell in a medium, underhand hold.  Sit on the bench.  Raise the barbell over your head; lower behind you, it in a controlled fashion until the bar is behind your head.  Repeat until you no longer care that, unless you do this exercise, your triceps will look like the "bat wings" your 7th grade math teacher displayed every time she wrote an equation at the blackboard (about 20).  

Bicycle Crunch:  Lie down on the bench.  Heels at the end of the bench, knees bent.  Hands at ears, elbows forward.  [Edited:  Tuck chin to engage abs.]  The idea is to bring alternate knees forward, while simultaneously bending at the sternum so your cross-elbow touches whichever raised knee.  While breathing.  And not wiggling off of the bench.  Or getting confused by the count because only right-elbow-to-left knee counts.  Repeat until your breath runs out.  (About 40.  Really).

Jump Lunge:  Step forward with one foot as if you were lunging with a fencing sword.  Only instead of swinging an imaginary sword, you want to rest your fists over your pectorals.  Your leading foot should be under your leading knee.  Your weight should be on your forward foot.  Your feet should be parallel.  The heel of your back foot should be off the ground.    Jump into the air and switch the position of your feet.  Pause to make sure you've landed properly.  Repeat until you're short of breath (about 24)

20 second rest

Seated Curl:  Just what it sounds like.  Sit on the bench.  Keep your elbows under your shoulders.  Hold a 30 lb barbell in an underhand hold.   Curl your biceps, bringing the barbell up to shoulder level.  Exhale.  Slowly lower the barbell.  Repeat until you wonder if that squeezing sensation in your arm is a joint problem (about 24).

Double Leg Raise:  Lie down on the bench.  With your legs straight, lift your feet.  Place your hands under your glutes to provide stability (note to self:  don't put your thumbs under your lumbar vertebrae because you always underestimate how much it hurts your thumbs).  Slowly lower your still straight legs until they're about 20 degrees from horizontal (your knees should be level with your eyes).  Raise legs.  Repeat (about 20).

Rocket Jump:  Crouch on the floor, sort of like a frog.  Lift your hands from the floor to the ceiling above.  Let gravity pull you back down to the crouch.  Pause and set.  Repeat until gravity wins or you start to feel dizzy (about 10) ("...I'm not the man they think I am at home; oh, no no...").

20 second rest

Box Squat:  Eventually, this will involve resting a 30 lb barbell across one's back (not the neck).  But at the moment I'm concentrating on doing the form correctly, since I want to do all of these squats the wrong way by isometrically moving only my knees instead of hinging backward from the hips.   Stand facing away from the end of the bench.  Pretend you're going to sit down, moving backward from the hips, until you just barely touch the bench.  [Edited:  maintain eye contact with your reflection to keep your back straight.]  Straighten back into a stand.  Repeat (about 24).

Assisted Sit-up:  We haven't covered this yet because during the initial training, we accidentally skipped over it, and didn't realize it until after I was sitting on the bench resting my head between my knees.  It sounds like a sit-up, but I haven't figured out the assisted part, yet.

Split Jack:   This is like a jumping jack, at least in the feet and legs part.  But instead of clapping one's hands over one's head, one touches the floor with one hand and one's knee with the other; then you alternate.  Keep eye contact with yourself in the mirror so you keep your posture straight.  No Fosse Hands!  (about 24)

20 second rest

Straight Leg Deadlift:  It's easy for me to this one wrong.  Stand facing away from the end of the bench.  Don't lock your legs.  Hold the 30 lb barbell in a shoulder-width, overhand hold at waiste level.  Hinge from the hip and move it backward.   Keep your arms striaght.  This will move the barbell down.  [Edited:  maintain eye contact with your reflection to keep your back straight.  Straighten the legs, but don't lock them.  Feel the stretch in the hamstrings for just a second, then, straighten back to a standing position. ] Um... 10?

Russian Twist:  I'm pretty sure this isn't a drink.  It might be something involving soccer balls with handles on them.  [Edited:  Close, but with no soccer balls.  Lay down on the bench.  Spread your knees to stablize your pelvis and lower back.  Tuck your chin.  Bring your palms together (or alternately, press your fists together) just in front of your sternum.  Rotate your trunk so that your palms alternately touch the inside of your knees (it's like a metronome).  The motion should be like a cable-twist, only without the cable.  Exhale with each touch.  

By this time in the training I'd been doing more than 24 reps of all of the above exercises, and I think I might have been swaying and turning interesting colors.  In any case, I was out of breath, shaking, and wondering vaguely if I was going to throw up -- so my trainer had me cool down with my head between my legs.  For about ten minutes.  Every so often I'd try sitting up and decide that that probably wasn't a good thing... but eventually I managed to get back to my feet.

Skater:  No idea what this one is; probably not an Alternative Rock Band.  [Edit:  It's pretty much the same motion as RollerBlading, only without RollerBlades.  Put your fists over your pectorals.  Push with your left leg to the right; slow yourself to a pause with your right leg.  Repeat. ]

20 second rest

Weighted Suitcase Crunch:   "That's a pretty nice suitcase you've got there.  Shame if something should happen to it."   Maybe this is like the Suitcase Crunch from earlier in the routine, but somehow I'm hanging onto a 30 lb barbell?  [Edited:  Lay down on the bench, with a 30 lb barbell in a middle over-hand hold.  Hold one:  straight up, elbows tucked near your hips, bent 90 degrees.  Hold two:  elbows bent about 90 degrees, but the barbell starts over your head.  The idea is to keep your arms in a static position.  Tuck your chin to engage abs.  Bring the barbell to your knees, hold a half-second, and exhale.  Release, but keep your chin tucked and abs engaged.  Repeat. ]

Crunch:  Wait.  Crunch.  Not a breakfast cereal.  This is a sit-up... yes?  [Edit:  No.  Lay down on the bench.  Heels at the end of the bench.  Tuck chin to engage abs.  Straiten your arms, point your index finger so it's pointing at your feet.  Crunch your abs so that your hand moves forward about a palm-width and your index fingers are touching your calves.  Exhale.  Release so that your "trigger thumb" is resting against your outer thigh.  Repeat.]

Burpee:  I figure this is the full on donkey-kick-plus-rocket-jump routine some gym teacher in the distant past had us do.  [Edit:  Well, not exactly.  Start in a standing position.  Drop to a frog position.  Pause.  Extend your back legs so you go into a controlled plank; don't let your butt sink or your back do a slinky imitation.  Pause.  Go back to the frog position.  Pause.  Stand.  It's all about control, not speed.]  Repeat until your legs say, "I'm through with the donkey-kick thing" and you lay on the ground like a spawning salmon just before the vultures come.  (Um 4, maybe 7)

Weekend Updates

Gym report:  I met with my trainer today (11/7) and went over a new routine.  It's more aerobic, and the sets are designed to repeat reps until exhaustion.  There are a number of new exercises, but we only got through about four fifths of them before I had to sit down -- I don't know what happened, it felt like a sugar crash or heat stroke; I'm guessing I managed to run out of ATP... Or something.  

The other theory is that I was doing so many jumps, squats, and crunches that my body was going into shock in protest.

My trainer was pretty cool about it; I felt like a wuss.  I'm still thirty-two in my mind, but lately my body seems bent on reminding me that I'm in my mid-fifties.  

I went again Friday (11/8) and managed to get more-or-less through the new routine before stalling out during the burpees (of which I did four, if one is being charitable).  I quite obviously have little stamina when it comes to aerobic exercises.  The whole point, though, is to convince my body to start consuming the extra fat I've got stored as a bicycle tire around my waist and other areas, in the hope that my lower abdominals will start to show up at some time within the next two years.

On the migraine front.  It's possible that I've found a pattern:  too much 70% chocolate.  Maybe chocolate plus tea.  Plus a short night's sleep.  It might work out with, stay up late the night before, rush out to work without a proper snack, get distracted at work with HTML editing, documenting, and other keyboard-based support, and not notice that I've snarfed through more than a third of a Very Dark Chocolate bar and refreshed my tea about three times.  Get a migraine light-show at noon.  

  Anyway, that's one theory.  Although why it's taken five years for this to manifest is a little curious.  I've cut back chocolate to only one square in a thirty minute period, imposed a limit of only three squares a day, and pushed back the second round of More Tea to 10 AM.  We'll see what happens.  The goal is to go a month without another one of these things.

Other theories include blaming my endocrine system, tequila, my slightly twisted Progressive Lens glasses (recently re-aligned), and too much time on my mobile device. 

On the writing front, I bit the bullet and purchased a new, bulkier wireless keyboard to type on.  The old keyboard gave years of service, and I appreciate it's slimness, but I'm not missing having to stop typing to try to get the lower third of the keys to register.

Early November

The Halloween decorations are slowly going back into storage.  There's a few odd bits around:  an orange votive candle glass on the kitchen table; the bat cutout hanging from the front light; a white jack-o-lantern grinning like a skull on the backyard table, and an orange one knocked face-down to the lawn and leaves by a delinquent squirrel.  Oddly, there are still burnt orange and maroon leaves clinging to the trees out back.

On the gym front:  managed to get to the gym last Monday, Friday, and Monday and this Wednesday.  Last Wednesday I had a minor scintillation migraine, so I stayed home.  I'm finally going to meet with my trainer this week to see about an alternate work-out to mix things up, since I seem to be plateauing with my current workout.

On the writing front:  Had a passible writing night Tuesday actually writing and lightly editing a short story.  I'm still not not wildly enthusiastic about the default space, a mezzanine in a local super market, mostly because it can be really distracting there if the wrong group shows up.    I've got some stories in the mail, and it would be a good thing if there were more things out there.

On the music front:  I've discovered a new to me music group called Helium Vola.  They're a kind of German Enya, or a more Techno Stary Olsa, or a more operatic Dead Can Dance.  Some of their pieces are irritating, and seem to be more suited to a modern dance take on ritual than something to listen to -- but I'm finding many pieces that are uplifting (if in a sometimes goofy and frantic way).

Raptor Weekend

 We had a quiet weekend, which was a nice way to unwind from a hectic week.


The nights have been just above freezing, but the days have warmed up to the high fifties.  The evening skies have featured the new moon, and the morning skies Orion.


Saturday, Mark and I took a hike to the Cascades Raptor Center.  They had been closed for about three weeks to deal with some construction, and this was their first open day for a while, so there were a lot of visitors.


We were lucky enough to see three of the raptors out of their mews, a hawk, a screech owl, and a golden eagle.   Mark tolerated my photography as we listened to docents tell us about the various birds and answer visitor questions.


I didn't realize that raptors salivate a lot, and apparently, one docent gets a lot of bird spit on him.  The most surprising observation was how much Dante, the golden eagle, squeaked like my folks' German shepherd when I rub her ears as he tore a rabbit carcass apart.


I managed a few pictures of the other birds, and it was a chance to experiment with making the camera focus on a bird and not on the bars of its enclosure.   I'm not sure that I had a favorite raptor; I like them all and was enamored by all their sleek lines, and curved beaks, and the patterns of their feathers.


Mark fell in love with the snowy owl's feet -- it had white downey feathers that looked like fluffy slippers with sharp claws poking out at the toes.  I obviously have to get get him snow owl slippers for Christmas.


We stayed for probably something like two hours before hiking back to the car.  Just before we got to the parking lot, Mark spied a wild red tailed hawk in a tree.