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Everybody else seems to have their "Friday Something Blogging." I've been dithering because the things I take pictures of are only around part of the year. So I decided I would do that: seasonal pictures.
( Two pictures below the cut: laying pipe and slitting the plastic in a berry field on Calabasas Road )
So. Today is the sixteenth anniversary of my mother's death. For maybe the first time, I'm not messed up about it. I was thinking today about something else. I don't know what it means.
Emma's going to turn twenty in a few months. When my mother was twenty, my brother was a year old.
Frank will turn twenty-eight on the same day. When I was twenty-eight, Frank was two.
So maybe when one or the other of them is thirty-six, their firstborn will be three?
Lately Gloria's been having days when she's not sure how to manage underpants. She gets dressed without them and then doesn't feel right and she needs to have them shown and explained to her. Then she puts them on right and she feels better. She has this thing about filling up her already very heavy purse with objects. Gloves, combs, brushes, hankies, partial rolls of toilet paper, socks, and now lately underwear. And rubber-banded stacks of ancient bank statements. On bad days she starts panicking about leaving the house. No, she wants to leave the house -- too early to go to the things she's supposed to go to. Today, since she wanted to leave the house two hours early I made her go to this little shopping center and walk a whole block to the store called "Susie's Deals" where I found presentable clothes for $5 each (I now feel the need to throw away twice as many clothes as I bought). That much standing up and walking was sufficient to cause her hip and knee pain the rest of the day. This may be because she's dug up an older pair of leather sneakers and they might be throwing her gait off. Also, I missed "The L Word" because she wanted to see "Everything is Illuminated" and then she kept wandering around finding things to fret about myhsteriously.
And of course you understand that Groundhog Day is more or less sixish weeks from the Spring Equinox, right? So if the groundhog sees his shadow, which he will on most days, there will be six months more of winter. Because they will. You've got to admire a joke that nobody even tries to get. A sleeper, maybe.
( Two pictures below the cut: laying pipe and slitting the plastic in a berry field on Calabasas Road )
So. Today is the sixteenth anniversary of my mother's death. For maybe the first time, I'm not messed up about it. I was thinking today about something else. I don't know what it means.
Emma's going to turn twenty in a few months. When my mother was twenty, my brother was a year old.
Frank will turn twenty-eight on the same day. When I was twenty-eight, Frank was two.
So maybe when one or the other of them is thirty-six, their firstborn will be three?
Lately Gloria's been having days when she's not sure how to manage underpants. She gets dressed without them and then doesn't feel right and she needs to have them shown and explained to her. Then she puts them on right and she feels better. She has this thing about filling up her already very heavy purse with objects. Gloves, combs, brushes, hankies, partial rolls of toilet paper, socks, and now lately underwear. And rubber-banded stacks of ancient bank statements. On bad days she starts panicking about leaving the house. No, she wants to leave the house -- too early to go to the things she's supposed to go to. Today, since she wanted to leave the house two hours early I made her go to this little shopping center and walk a whole block to the store called "Susie's Deals" where I found presentable clothes for $5 each (I now feel the need to throw away twice as many clothes as I bought). That much standing up and walking was sufficient to cause her hip and knee pain the rest of the day. This may be because she's dug up an older pair of leather sneakers and they might be throwing her gait off. Also, I missed "The L Word" because she wanted to see "Everything is Illuminated" and then she kept wandering around finding things to fret about myhsteriously.
And of course you understand that Groundhog Day is more or less sixish weeks from the Spring Equinox, right? So if the groundhog sees his shadow, which he will on most days, there will be six months more of winter. Because they will. You've got to admire a joke that nobody even tries to get. A sleeper, maybe.
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So binge drinking is the cause of the day. They've introduced a bunch of measures to cut down on binge drinking at the University: draconian anti-partying laws on the part of the city (kids get one warning and the next loud partyu they have they are fined some amount and their landlord is required to evict them) and a campaign on campus to talk students into "partying small," which means -- pressure against assembling in large groups.
Binge drinking among college students, is of course, a bad thing, and is, of course, a traditional problem in some schools, and a growing problem in other schools . . .
Only, according to the numbers, not UCSC.
So . . . what is this all about?
On other fronts, the neighborhood in Salinas which was partially evacuated due to a foul-smelling substance that gave them headaches and made them ill was not victim to methyl bromide escape from the strawberry field across the street. Nope, it was another chemical, which I heard as "chlorotryptin," and which was identified as being, besides an omnicide (my word! I made it up!) squirted under plastic to sterilize fields before the berry plants are put in, a component in tear gas. But it can't be called that: Google says there is no such thing and suggests "cholorotryptamine," which gives many manby results but nothing that tells me whether it's the right thing.
And still further fronts . . . general hurricane news has begun to be pushed aside by dog reunion stories. You know -- local shelters reconnect hurricane refugees and their dogs.
I love my dog, but there's something corrupt about this.
Binge drinking among college students, is of course, a bad thing, and is, of course, a traditional problem in some schools, and a growing problem in other schools . . .
Only, according to the numbers, not UCSC.
So . . . what is this all about?
On other fronts, the neighborhood in Salinas which was partially evacuated due to a foul-smelling substance that gave them headaches and made them ill was not victim to methyl bromide escape from the strawberry field across the street. Nope, it was another chemical, which I heard as "chlorotryptin," and which was identified as being, besides an omnicide (my word! I made it up!) squirted under plastic to sterilize fields before the berry plants are put in, a component in tear gas. But it can't be called that: Google says there is no such thing and suggests "cholorotryptamine," which gives many manby results but nothing that tells me whether it's the right thing.
And still further fronts . . . general hurricane news has begun to be pushed aside by dog reunion stories. You know -- local shelters reconnect hurricane refugees and their dogs.
I love my dog, but there's something corrupt about this.
I shouldn't present this as a frequent occurence. In fact, it is the first time that I know of this exact thing happening around here. But it got front page coverage in both the papers (well, later editions of the Sentinel, anyway). The headline is misleading, though. The short version of the story is that a berry farmer (that is, the person who owns the berry farm) took twelve farmworkers (that is, the people who tend to the berries and harvest them)into the emergency room because they'd walked onto a field she thought had been contaminated by overspray from the apple orchard next door(not hers). This was enough to shut down the emergency room for a couple-few hours and for hazmat (hazardous materials) protocols to be put in place. It turned out that there was no acute pesticide poisoning apparent, so it was sort of a dry run.
Ah, the clean country life -- clean except for pesticides, fertilizers, methamphetamines, smoke pollution. . .
Also, Watsonville is inaugurating a bird festival this fall, to try to take advantage of the fact that the sloughs, especially Elkhorn slough but not limited to it, have more bird species than the Texas Coast. And the idea is if you get a bunch of birders into the county thaty'll want places to sleep and food to eat. And therefore it satisfies the boosters who wanted to fill them all in and put housing and low-wage industries on them.
There's a bunch of wildlife stuff in the Pajaronian today. Bats, butterflies . . . and this really cute coyote was grazing in Gloria's compost heap this evening.
Meanwhile, according to the Sentinel, Monterey COunty's getting $300,000 in state money to fight agricultural theft. I'm a little unclear on the economics of this. Agricultural theft in the whole state is $7 billion in value, according to the article. I'm just not sure what's going on here -- of course I believe in enforcing the law, but I can't help but feel this is another case of capitalists wanting to have individual profit and collective risk. One guy is saying his farms alone lose $100,000 worth of artichokes every year. How much profit does he make? At least money spent on preventing artichoke theft is not being spent on harrassing Muslims.
And at the other end of the county, the fight is heating up over who will supply water to Felton (a really small town in the mountains, about twelve miles up Highway Nine, entirely in the redwoods with very little flat land and that all subject to flooding in wet years). There are three anti-tax organizations that look like they may actually all be the same organization opposing a ballot measure to buy out the Felton water system from its present owners, which are an international outfit from I think France.
And there's a guy down at UFO(my pet name for Cal State-Monterey Bay -- "University of Fort Ord" because it's built on a closed military base) who is trying to get drinking water out of fog. DOg knows we have a lot of fog, especially in the summer, when we need the water the most. Speaking of water, which I think I was, and summer, the last time I went over the hill, which was Monday when I went to see the plastinated people, I saw a fire-fighting helicopter carrying a huge red bucket of water away from Lexington Reservoir. But I didn't see smoke, and I didn't smell smoke, and I didn't hear about any fires in the mountains or up the peninsula, so I think maybe it was a training exercise. That bucket was really huge.
And there's been the usual summertime article about how the school districts can't find adequately credentialed teachers to teach here, because housing is so expensive and the credential process is so daunting.
Can't prove it by me: I live here, my house is paid off, and I have two clear credentials. And I'm taking an old lady to the hairdresser for a living (having given up for the time being on getting a teaching job).
My dog is seriously pissed off at me because I haven't been paying enough attention to her. It's going to get worse in a couple of weeks, for a couple of weeks, because my alternating partner will be on vacation and I'll be doing long days with Gloria five days a week for a while. But tomorrow -- tomorrow is Saturday and I'm going to take her to DeLaveaga Park the back way as far as she can stand to go. I need a long walk too.
Ah, the clean country life -- clean except for pesticides, fertilizers, methamphetamines, smoke pollution. . .
Also, Watsonville is inaugurating a bird festival this fall, to try to take advantage of the fact that the sloughs, especially Elkhorn slough but not limited to it, have more bird species than the Texas Coast. And the idea is if you get a bunch of birders into the county thaty'll want places to sleep and food to eat. And therefore it satisfies the boosters who wanted to fill them all in and put housing and low-wage industries on them.
There's a bunch of wildlife stuff in the Pajaronian today. Bats, butterflies . . . and this really cute coyote was grazing in Gloria's compost heap this evening.
Meanwhile, according to the Sentinel, Monterey COunty's getting $300,000 in state money to fight agricultural theft. I'm a little unclear on the economics of this. Agricultural theft in the whole state is $7 billion in value, according to the article. I'm just not sure what's going on here -- of course I believe in enforcing the law, but I can't help but feel this is another case of capitalists wanting to have individual profit and collective risk. One guy is saying his farms alone lose $100,000 worth of artichokes every year. How much profit does he make? At least money spent on preventing artichoke theft is not being spent on harrassing Muslims.
And at the other end of the county, the fight is heating up over who will supply water to Felton (a really small town in the mountains, about twelve miles up Highway Nine, entirely in the redwoods with very little flat land and that all subject to flooding in wet years). There are three anti-tax organizations that look like they may actually all be the same organization opposing a ballot measure to buy out the Felton water system from its present owners, which are an international outfit from I think France.
And there's a guy down at UFO(my pet name for Cal State-Monterey Bay -- "University of Fort Ord" because it's built on a closed military base) who is trying to get drinking water out of fog. DOg knows we have a lot of fog, especially in the summer, when we need the water the most. Speaking of water, which I think I was, and summer, the last time I went over the hill, which was Monday when I went to see the plastinated people, I saw a fire-fighting helicopter carrying a huge red bucket of water away from Lexington Reservoir. But I didn't see smoke, and I didn't smell smoke, and I didn't hear about any fires in the mountains or up the peninsula, so I think maybe it was a training exercise. That bucket was really huge.
And there's been the usual summertime article about how the school districts can't find adequately credentialed teachers to teach here, because housing is so expensive and the credential process is so daunting.
Can't prove it by me: I live here, my house is paid off, and I have two clear credentials. And I'm taking an old lady to the hairdresser for a living (having given up for the time being on getting a teaching job).
My dog is seriously pissed off at me because I haven't been paying enough attention to her. It's going to get worse in a couple of weeks, for a couple of weeks, because my alternating partner will be on vacation and I'll be doing long days with Gloria five days a week for a while. But tomorrow -- tomorrow is Saturday and I'm going to take her to DeLaveaga Park the back way as far as she can stand to go. I need a long walk too.
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