Sandhill Crane, upright
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08:04:54 PM,
Saturday 29 July 2006
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Crane Stalking Tadpoles
There were three cranes, all told. Their call is an unearthly metallic squealing, rattling noise, like a rusty wheel. Taken through a borrowed telescope that filled me with envy.
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07:57:21 PM,
Saturday 29 July 2006
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Appleton Lake Sunrise
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06:48:37 PM,
Saturday 29 July 2006
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Sandhill Cranes at dawn
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Taken on our memorial day trip to Michigan, from a kayak. I have had something of a block about editing it, for one reason or another.
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(2)
05:00:37 PM,
Saturday 29 July 2006
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Smoked gouda belongs on pizza. Also, homemade deep pan pizza is in fact a good idea.
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06:14:05 PM,
Thursday 27 July 2006
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It's run reading the stories about Floyd Landis in light of todays news that his amazing solo victory over the mountains was, it seems, unnatural. His fall was foreshadowed everywhere. "It's truly Floyd at his best, saying, 'Screw you, I'll do it my way' to the rest of the world." And, ha, Armstrong-esque. Both "Driven by anger". Code for testosterone? And "it isn't that he won, but how he won". Don't you love libel laws? I didn't notice the subtext when I read the stories at the time, but it's clearly there. And this quote, from his Mennonite mother: “We felt in our hearts he was going to win. He is not one to take second place." Since the news has broken, she has said "if it's something worse than that [painkillers], then he doesn't deserve to win ... It disappoints me." I like his mother. From the outskirts of Ephrata. I wonder if Julie Landis is related?
So, is athletics doomed? It seems that 'pure' athletics, running, cycling, jumping, swimming and so on, are in an inescapable trap. The drugs work, and the rules can't be enforced. If they don't enforce the rules, the sports will go the way of boxing... it will be seen that you have to be willing to destroy yourself to play, so people won't, and they'll fade away as the best athletes play safer games. Some drugs will be safe, but there will always be risky drugs that work better. Skill games aren't immune, of course, but the skill adds another variable, so if someone dominates, it doesn't immediately follow that they cheated, and fans have an out. Though people seem able to hold Armstrong up as a role model and inspiration, despite that it seems quite likely that he's simply a tremendously deterimined, successful cheater. Which is an accomplishment, but not one I can admire, and the possibility taints the whole enterprise. But millions of rubber bracelets say otherwise, so perhaps athletics will be fine.
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11:49:07 AM,
Thursday 27 July 2006
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I seem to like IE7 quite a bit.
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10:15:42 AM,
Thursday 27 July 2006
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Penzey's sells MSG! Yay! It also had it's window shot out at 4am yesterday, along with 20 other storefronts in town - the computer shop, a horrible resturant, the good bagel shop, NAPA, the video store, the post office, two car dealers... and on and on. Apparently done with a slingshot and a bag of marbles from a car. A few days earlier, someone spray painted the hair of our horrible historical bronze indian's hair pink. I didn't mind that so much. Not the windows, though. The town cries out, "Punk kids!", and I join them. You should see the town mailing list. It's nearly drowned out the dog leash law/cat leash law battle.
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(1)
06:09:41 PM,
Wednesday 26 July 2006
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unix is indefensible.
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(8)
03:47:39 PM,
Wednesday 26 July 2006
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'Thanks.' Bruce Carmyle wrote the information down with a gold pencil in a dapper little morocco-bound notebook. He was the sort of man who always has a pencil, and the backs of old envelopes never enter into his life.
-The Adventures of Sally, P. G. Wodehouse 1922
I only mention this because it popped into my mind today, gently mangled, after I scribbled a number down on an envelope thoughtfully provided by Bank of America and the USPS for the purpose. And now my m key has died. I'm pasting it whenever I need it. The cat knocked a glass of water on the keyboard earlier, and it is starting to have effects. And I'm stuck working from home for reasons too ornate to get into, so I may need to go and buy a keyboard, not having time for this one to dry out. Bad Cat. The trouble with cats is that they are immune to delayed moral approbation. He has no idea why I am glowering at him. Worse still, he doesn't care. It seems he may have got the cell phone wet as well, at least, it went beserk, and now won't turn on. Though it's been doing that sort of thing ever since I got caught cycling home in a downpour. One of those where you don't mind after 90 seconds, because you can't get any wetter. Not the last downpour I was stuck in, where I got water up my nose from a passing minivan, sneezed twice, and felt cliche, but the one before that.
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08:28:32 PM,
Tuesday 25 July 2006
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The 7 person bicycles that have been loitering around downtown lately. A nice idea, but I haven't seen one with customers yet.
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06:07:22 PM,
Saturday 22 July 2006
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But reading this, even knowing how it ends, my instincts are entirely with Neville Chamberlin. Kurt Schuschnigg, in surrendering Austria to the Nazis to avoid a war, seems almost noble. All this suggests that my instincts are in dire need of recalibrating, that they leave something vital out of the equation. I understand the necessity of the Hitler rule of internet discourse, but the trouble is, while abundantly necessary, it's a cop-out. Nazi Germany wasn't a statistical fluke to be tossed out as eternally besides the point. If I manage to come to grips with this, I'll be sure to let you know. Meanwhile, I've got some pictures to edit.
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10:14:21 PM,
Friday 21 July 2006
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site & script courtesy of Moss
