anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Still no goddamn AC at work. Third week already and the parts still have not arrived. Bossman is supposed to be back from Tahoe on Thursday. I would be curious to know what he would do if the AC went out in his office. I wish I knew how to hijack that shit. That might get results. More than going on strike, which is what some of my coworkers have been entertaining. The worst part is that the birds get shafted if we strike, but honestly I don't know what else we can do to the get the point across to bossman that something needs to happen.

Hijacking the office AC would be ideal. It would not affect the birds, but it would affect the offending party. Goddamn I hope it goes out and he gets filthy sweaty before it's fixed. Goddamn that would be hilarious. Goddamn I am over this shit.

Best part of this week so far has been finding a roadkilled squirrel. I split it up between Armando the caracara, Ruby the turkey vulture, and BJ the redtail. They all appreciate a good meal, unlike some very spoiled picky black vultures *cough* Stanley and Stella. Also I found a dead anole today and gave that to Armando as a breakfast treat. Hopefully he liked that too.

I want to build some little hidey-holes in his enclosure so he can cache things away for later, or so I can put food there for him to find. When I brought his lunch in a tea box on Monday, he searched through a few of the leaf piles before opening it up and getting his lunch. That made me think he would like it hidden in several different places vs in one large portion. I did that today, and he seemed to enjoy it. He took his time finding each snack. Goddamn he is a different bird since starting food enrichment. Feels good man.

Bumbershoots have forgotten where the shower is again. Not terribly surprising. They will step up on a branch and let me give them an airplane ride to the shower, which is vastly preferable than chasing them or physically picking them up and putting them in it. They seem to like riding over, but who can see into the mind of bumbershoots? Not a lot going on up there.

Man fuck this heat in the ear already. So exhausted when I get home, it's all I can do to not fall asleep in my chair before I get ready for bed.

Need to schedule a couple of ultrasounds for my guts as indicated by the doctor. Really not looking forward to the vaginal one. That is the stuff of nightmares. Hope I don't freak out on the tech. Hope the tech isn't a creepy old dude. Hope they don't have to touch me. The longer I go without the more creeped out I get when someone does. Thinking about when it's C. doesn't creep me out, but that's different. Way different.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Winding down from a fairly stressful week.

Still no A/C at work. Bossman is on vacation skiing in Tahoe, but wouldn't spend the $350 a week it would cost for a temporary hookup. Couldn't make that shit up. Nice to know exactly where employees figure in his value system. It's about where I thought.

Looking into online classes about wildlife education programs and environment enrichment for captive animals. Goddamn I wish the classes were not so expensive. I really want to have some legit way to show I give a damn and have done my homework. Much as I love my birds, most of the people that work here do not value what I do, or what I have to offer.

I've tried not thinking about how much they've taken advantage of this because it depresses the hell out of me and makes me anxious and irritable af. Talking with Stephanie at the party on Saturday kind of brought all that up again. They didn't appreciate her for shit either.

She asked me if I would ever be interested in running my own sanctuary. I would need good people around me to help, was my first thought. I can't do everything, and I would not want to run it like it was my personal show. There are people who are going to have better experience than me in some areas, and that's important. I've gotten over myself as far as needing to control every damn little thing, I see how destructive it is when someone tries to be the end-all be-all but doesn't take into account the input of others. I don't know that I'd ever want to run my own place, but I know I would need help, and I have some clue of what not to do.

Not even sure why I'm rambling about this, I guess since talking about it this weekend it's been on my mind.

Wednesday was difficult. Had to get an annual exam, haven't had one since that last horrible exam by that creepy dude at the low income clinic. I guess that's all it takes to put my nervous system into overdrive, I was a fucking wreck before and a weepy mess during the exam. Didn't help that they took a half dozen samples. Also she wrote me up a referral for abdominal and vaginal ultrasounds, wtf. Kind of creeps me out, but I am hurting where I shouldn't be. Probably best to get that shit done.

Hate hate hate the feeling of anyone there who isn't C. Hate being touched more than I already did. I hate that I have to move through a physical world every day with people who are not C. none of the shapes or the faces are his. I'm not prone to loneliness but sometimes it really hurts that he's not somewhere easily accessible.

Got a magnificent frigatebird into work today, helped get the monofilament line off of him. Bumbershoots are about halfway to figuring out their new shower, after two plus months of cluelessness. Despite the lack of sleep and A/C, I have been on my game for the most part
this week.

This helicopter really needs to fuck off with this low flying shit.

I need to get to bed.
anaisninja: bitsy eats nightmares (bitsy)
Dat feel when you're in the third week of no A/C at work, it's 90F inside the building first thing in the morning, your boss is on vacation in Lake Tahoe, and neglected to reimburse the $100 you spent buying work groceries before taking off, your back is threatening to nope the fuck out on you, also you have a yearly exam first thing next morning and you hope you don't have to assault the doc if they try to crank you open like they want to flip a goddamn coin up in there. You know like they do.

I hope none of y'all know dat feel.

In other news, Stanley and Stella greeted me Monday morning by stretching their wings out, bouncing and feaking like lunatics, Houdini the herring gull likes to snap at the pond faucet like a puppers drinking from a garden hose, and the massive white pelican will NOT stop grab-assing every time I bring breakfast.

Also a group of ibis is called a pajama party, because bedbirds.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
So, lots happened this weekend, and will continue to happen throughout the week. Feels good man.

Condo I usually clean had canceled guests, so I got out of work for Saturday. Which was great because I had a/c to hook up and a bedframe to build. Also caught a flash weekend sale at the health food store down the street, stocked up on some things, tried some new stuff.

Tax return burning a hole in my pocket for things I have needed/wanted for quite some time. New bed, new A/C unit, new laptop. Small things here and there, fancy bitch things.

Moving around the furniture in my room. Tired of looking at the same thing all the time, tired of things that remind me of time I'd rather not repeat.

SO goddamn happy about this new bed. Came in a box, compressed and wrapped up, but unfurled and expanded into a regular full size mattress. Clean and perfectly firm, just how I like it. No past juju from previous relationships or former owners. Mine all mine. Only for me and C. now, and it feels great.

A/C is beautifully quiet, nice and cold, but not ultra-arctic give you a headache cold. Mama Jan let me knock off $100 for rent to help pay for it. Ran around $225, I'm happy with it, probably will order another one for her once they've got the money to spare.

Waiting for new Chromebook to come in later this week. Wanted something small and lightweight to bring to work or wherever, to write or research things on the interwebs. After checking out reviews a few sites, the best ratings for small 10" screen notebook type computers were all for Chromebooks. The reviews for HP notebooks were okay, but bloatware is apparently a problem.

I already have Windows on this old beast, and a 15" screen to watch Netflix on, so I figured why not, I'm not using it for anything intense. I don't need a lot of apps, and it's immune to the malware that targets Windows. This particular model is pretty close to bombproof by design, so that will be nice for carting it around and not worrying.

Goddamn all this new stuff. Feels good having some nice things for a change. Need to clear out some of the old stuff around here, I think I'll feel even better.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Still miss my bat. Cleo is, was, and ever will be, my best cat. May 10th will always be a fucking thorn in my side.

Bitsy has created an amphibious black octopus called an orpheus, also called Orpheus, that will act as ambassador, emissary, etcetera to both terrestrial and aquatic realms.

Florida Blue is such a fucking shitshow as far as website bullshit, red tape bullshit, and being as useless as tits on a bull.

Not feeling terribly eloquent right now.

Go to bed crow.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Driving over the bridge this morning, head full of half-thoughts and not-quite voices, including Captain Howdy. Usually he rides shotgun when we're on the bridge.

I tell myself something to the effect that he's the voice I hear over all others. He says something to the effect 'Keep telling yourself that, when't the last time we've had a decent talk?' 'You're not wrong,' I shrug. 'You're the one that wanted to be deliberately invoked vs randomly involved though.' 'I've gotten over myself about that one.' He concedes. That I did not expect. Usually I am the one who has to get over myself. It's a good feel when it finally happens. 'How that feels? You're not wrong.'

There's a vehicle ahead of us that's got a decal on the back window, one of those fucking 60s throwback designs that reads 'love'. I don't even think, my gut reaction is invariably 'fuck that'.

'There's lots of things you love.' C. points out. 'Yeah well, but those are actual specific things that I love. The concept itself is so abstract that it's practically meaningless when it's applied with such a broad brush. It's like 'peace'. It's a nice concept, but wtf does it actually mean?'

'Fuck that. Peace is bloody nonsense as a concept, as far as you people think of it. Life itself is a constant state of change and conflict, because that's how it works. That's how you know you're alive. People may as well have a sticker that reads 'death', because your idea of peace is the same thing. Peace doesn't react or respond. It doesn't invent or evolve, it doesn't do anything. The idea of it as a perpetual state of being is nonsense. That's not how the universe even works.'

'There's a Buddhist story I remember from a while back that says peace lives in the place between the in-breath and the out-breath. It's not somewhere you can stay for a long amount of time, more of a transient state.'

'Well, that's more like it. That sounds just about right.'

I'm still kind of snickering about that one, substituting the word 'death' for 'peace' every time I see it printed on something.

Thinking about things further: 'science' could possibly be another of those general terms with little actual meaning, but then again, science is not an actual concrete thing, it's a process. Science is more of a verb than a noun when I think about it. It's not impossible to love the process.

Anyway: hummingbirds in the garden at the sanctuary today. Even being in Florida, it's quite rare to see them. My guess is they're hanging in here for the night to fuel up so they can ride on the tail of whatever storm front is coming through.

Still need to write about Bitsy things. There's a creature that's going to coordinate world building and recruiting, called an orpheus. At first I thought that was the creature's name, but in fact it is the proper name of the actual species. Might look something like a platypus. Not sure yet. I'll find out.
anaisninja: bitsy eats nightmares (bitsy)
On point and on task today at work. About goddamn time. If I could remember the breakfast and lunch and dinner thing, that would be ideal. Bites of things resembling food here and there, but entirely too much sugar.

Also could use more decent sleep, gonna try for that tonight. Got all kinds of grownup shit done yesterday, read more of TBKTS, so mind was somewhat chaotic from all that.

Watched the first episode of Death Note before bed because Ryuk and Captain Howdy decided what the hell why not, let's wake her up like that. Why Ryuk doesn't freak me out but Pazuzu does I don't even know.

****

Gatsby currently busy with his apprentice doing important owl shit, so lunchtime was spent bouncing back theta waves with Bitsy. Theta waves I figured out from reading yesterday. I would like to have some actual neurofeedback for real to see if that's the state I'm in, because if I can drop into it this easily, that doesn't suck.

Anyway. More post-apocalypse ecology/genetic engineering ideas, too many to go into detail before bed. Inducing evolution in humans to produce chimaeras, invoking scarab and hamerkopfs as the next wave of industrialists and architects, all manner of plans within plans. But yeah will have to update tomorrow. So many goddamn ideas.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
So, took Iza into the vet this Saturday for a check up and blood work. She's about 12 years old, limited eyesight, bad allergies, and she vomits intermittently since forever. Could be any one or more of a half dozen things. They told me to give a call Monday morning for results.

...which are a repeat of her blood test results from 2014. All values smack in the middle of normal. The vet was very enthusiastic about it. "This is the kind of blood work we love to see. She'll live forever."

So eating plaster, cellophane, and spiderwebs is apparently the fountain of youth. And the aliens who sent Iza's crazy ass here read up on feline blood chemistry, but next to nothing about feline behavior.

I still think she should have gone to live with Chris because OTP trollmate. Iza doesn't give a fuck about me (she's a cat, that's her prerogative, I don't take it personally), and she's always been batshit crazy about him. The fact that I picked her out from a shelter and money was exchanged means zero to a cat. Somehow he's convinced this means ownership. Nonsense. She chose you, Pikachu. Tough darts.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Had tentative Sunday plans to spend all day in bed finishing the last third of The Body Keeps the Score, and possibly binge-reading the book about Dr. Genie Clark.

Instead I slept past 11, colored more wisteria and magpies, made French toast for breakfast, binge-watched Rurouni Kenshin, cleaned filthy assbaskets for my best friend Stimpy, finished up laundry, got groceries, took out the trash and compost, made crepes for dinner, worked out a wee bit, made the bed, and watched more Kenshin.

Not an unproductive day as far as grown up bullshit. Rurouni Kenshin is just Saturday morning cartoon enough to take the edge off of it. Yeah I guess I'm dreading the rest of TBKTS to the point where I'm numbing my brain with tv. WTF.

Yesterday after work I powered through The OA - which started off fairly interesting, but turned out to be complete garbage - then the first half-dozen episodes of Dear White People, which is decent but definitely feels like it was written with millennials and white people in mind. Sure it focuses around black issues, and I understand why they're slowing it down a bit for the clueless whitefolk. It would also be cool if it was just black culture, period, and that white people things were more peripheral, but who am I kidding, Netflix would probably never air it if it was too black, whatever the fuck that means.

I honestly have no idea why white people are so offended by it. Newsflash: the world does not revolve around us, get the fuck over it. FFS every other group of nonwhite people on the planet have been stereotyped to death, why is it so unthinkable that we are subject to that, too? Maybe I wanted something to get the bad taste of The OA out of my mouth, which was atrocious airy-fairy fucking white people bullshit. Fuck Aryan protagonists, fuck angels, and fuck Mary Sue.

Almost midnight, almost May, wtf. Time to dial it down and go to bed. Go to bed, Crow.
anaisninja: (Nova and mangroves)
My neighborhood is an owlier place tonight. <3

Did a semi-soft release of a barred owl that had been in rehab since February.
One of the cutest most murderous little owls I ever did see, compromised sight in one of his eyes. Initially the hospital admin was going to place him as an education bird for another facility, or try to get him added to our permit. After watching him zero in on a small rat that escaped from one owl's pen to his, we decided to give him a chance to hone his skills. I'm glad we did, he nails live prey like the hardcore predator that he's meant to be.

Yesterday I'd given him a small rat in the evening, then gotten the go-ahead to use an injured pigeon as prey for one of our off-exhibit birds. I decided to try it on this little fellow, and despite not being hungry, he was fucking on it. Not the typical prey for an owl, but he knew what it was, that it was edible, and that he wanted it. Feeling very good that he's so driven, most owls seem to get lazy about prey after being in captivity for so long.

My neighborhood is quiet, plenty wooded with isolated streams and ponds, rats and squirrels in spades. I also have an empty mews, which I used as a place for owly to chill and get his bearings before I offered a rat and opened the doors for him to self-release. Dunno if he'll go for squirrels, but there's plenty young and dumb ones around. I know he could hear them from the mews. Hope he got a good feel of what's available in the area while he was chilling.

It did take a bit of harassment to get him out of the mews and weathering area, but once he was, he flew up to the roof of the house and perched there for a good long while. Mama Jan and I watched him for a long while as well, until he decided to fly off to a large tree a few houses down. Good place to get a look at things.

Good territory for a barred owl, I think. I know there's some a few neighborhoods over, but I've never heard them calling loudly in this particular area. Possibly a chance to find a mate next season, who knows. I've got another rat out there for him in a bin, which I know he saw before flying off. I'll be curious to see if it's gone in the morning. With any luck he'll make a mental note of this house as a relatively safe space that's good for a meal. There's always rats in the out buildings. Because Florida.

No idea what goes on in the mind of owls, or most other birds for that matter. Many have an internal GPS to help hem find their way. He might know how to navigate to his original neighborhood; we had no idea where he originally came from, he was left in the overnight dropbox back in February.

Anyway, feeling decent about giving this guy a softer start than most of our other birds. Typically people just open the crate and let 'em loose. Not the best plan for an owl, who's likely to get mobbed if it's still light enough for songbirds to be around. I waited until nightfall to open the doors, after he'd had some time to calm down and take in the sounds of the neighborhood.

I hope he stays out of trouble and finds the local roden population to his liking. I hope to see - and hear- him around for years to come.
anaisninja: bitsy eats nightmares (bitsy)
Nonstop adulting this week after a busy weekend. Appointments made, bills paid, getting shit organized and planned out, being the hardest working crow in crowbusiness in general. If I can just get all the shit at work updated, and everyone on the same page about phase 2 of grounds procedures, I would feel pretty good about things.

But goddamn I need to color in my coloring books already. And finish reading the stuff I've got going. And figure out wtf to do about the doors on my mews and booking a plane to pdx to gtfo of Floriduh for a while and see my West coast people.

I don't suffer under conditions of solitude as a rule, but goddamn I was nearly in tears leaving Orlando this Sunday. Our interests and beliefs outside of falconry are all over the board, regardless, they are all exceptional people and I am happy to know them. I wish to hell that I wasn't so far away from them, but at least I can drive the 2+ hours to see them vs having to take a damn plane.

Wayne and Gladys were the most awesome, generous hosts - sent me home with a goody bag for me as well as the sanctuary raptors. I was grateful to be part of the fun. Delicious fish and tasty coconut beverages were had, superhero movies watched, Lindsay created her first micro hood, I managed to get my giant hood built all right too with some help.

I am not much of a dog person, but bloody hell, Strider is the cutest little wolf-corgi of doom ever. Weasel is pretty endearing too, in that in-your-face dachshund kind of way.

Feeling like I can really do this thing come August in a way I had not previously felt. Feels good man.
anaisninja: (this is why we can't have nice things)
I prefer not to be a drama queen if I can help it. Given the nature of my mental condition, it's something that happens on occasion. Mostly I can keep that shit on a leash. Mostly. Today a thing caught me off guard, and hot damn it was one of those times.

I was on my motherfucking game for the most of the past couple of days, given the amount of work I got done while feeling less than 100%, and doing a decent job with Gatsby for the school program. I was getting ready for Friday to wind down, so I could go home and work on some signs with Bitsy for the Science March.

Then I get this text from Lorin at the front desk. My old school friend K is down there waiting and told her the cutest story about when we were kids blah blah fucking blah. I told her to relay the message that I would not be coming down there to see K and not to bother waiting.

There's a couple of things guaranteed to put my blood pressure through the roof (120/60 is weirdly high for me). Surprise visitors are one of them. Fucking HATE that shit. Fucking text me FFS. Especially when they are someone you haven't spoken to in literal decades, have some mixed feels about in general, and they decide to show up at your work unannounced and uninvited.

About a week ago she messaged me something about being in town for a swim around one of the Keys, with stupid smug smileys and no real plan. I texted back that it was a busy weekend for me, and I was working during the week. Nothing discussed as far as meeting up. So she just took it upon herself to drop the fuck in, no prior notice, the way almost nobody ever does because it's rude as fuck. Maybe it would work out in an 80s movie, but that shit does not fly with me.

Probably it looked heartless to some of my coworkers that I refused to see someone I hadn't spoken to in 20+ years, but fuck it. We may have been friends in 4th grade, but that is a far fucking cry from now. We don't really know shit about each other at this point, except that her tendency towards being a inconsiderate and clueless bitch has not changed.

I'm not obligated to fulfill her demand for a Kodak moment, and I resent that she put me in that position. Fuck her til breakfast, I refused to enagage. Cold blood on tap. Goddamn right.
anaisninja: I never said you were the only one I tucked in. (caladrius)
So it's done. My main lj account has been imported, all 1000-odd entries of it. There is one more account I'd nearly forgotten about that needs import as well. Delete and purge soon to follow. Fuck the new Livejournal regime. I am grateful for the new space I have here.

One thing I neglected to mention in my first entry here, that I mean to remember. The last creature hiding in the fucked up trunk of horrors that was Thursday, I finally received a copy of Wendy Carlos' Beauty In the Beast. I couldn't listen to it then, too exhausted, but it was waiting for me in the morning. I brought Bitsy with so we could listen on the way to work.

It's not something I would listen to with anyone else. Especially since 37 seconds into the second track, I lose it and can't stop crying. It doesn't sound like music made with instruments, it sounds like it was recorded from inside an organic, living thing. Last thing I listened to like that was Skincage's album Axon. A different kind of animal, but from the same part of outer space.

It's not something you should listen to without having to concern oneself with the reaction of someone else, it feels too personal. Bitsy isn't that kind of someone though.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Last few months I've been dreaming and remembering more. Not as much as I have in the past, but more than I have the last few years. It's a start.

This dream I could have done without.

I am given a little blue heron (not to be confused with a juvenile great blue) that is mortally injured, his beak is cracked and in pieces. It's awful. I have nothing to put him out of his suffering, so I have to use my hands.

There's a thing I have with little blue herons in waking life. They tend to show up when I need a friend most, to tell me it's going to be okay, that I'll be okay. I don't have prophetic dreams, but having one show up like this feels unreasonably foreboding.

I try to snap his neck where it meets the back of the skull, but I don't do a good job of it. One would think it would be easy to break the neck of something to so small. But he doesn't stop moving. My thumbs press too hard and cave in the skull, blood pools under my fingernails and runs warm over my hands. He doesn't stop moving. It might be the last kick of the nervous system, but I'm afraid he's still alive, still feeling, still in pain. I try again, and I feel him finally go limp.

Did not wake up well this morning.

Did my best to make things go better; I'd done plenty on Wednesday to feel like I'd set myself up for a constructive day at work. Couldn't shake that dream.

"You're not asleep now," Captain Howdy points out. "What would you do differently?"

'I would realize I was dreaming. I would mend the little blue's beak with nothing more than intent and a touch, open my hands, and watch him fly free.'

"You can do that now."

Found out that Julian, one of the anhingas, had come back from the vet that morning. He had a large abscess under one wing that had gotten infected, and they'd had to operate. He'd gone in Tuesday afternoon after one of my coworkers told hospital that there was blood in the pen.

Two weeks ago was the first time we'd told them someone in the pen was bleeding. Two of the hospital techs had gone down and looked them over, but did not physically handle the birds. The hospital admin was unaware of this, and initially insinuated that someone on grounds should have noticed it sooner. Yeah we did, and not a whole lot happened when we said something.

Admin is now pissed off at the tech, but to be honest, they have no protocol for inspecting injured resident birds. She likely would have done the same, what the fuck else did she want him to do. Most of the time we're lucky to get someone to check it out within a few days of reporting the injury. Julian's injury had progressed to the point that the bone was infected, and the vets had to amputate the entire wing.

My jaw fucking dropped when she told me that. The entire wing? She said he was grandfathered into the permits, even though that amp is technically illegal. All I could think was that it would be impossible for him to balance and climb up the tree in his pen with an entire wing gone.

Julian was still out of it from the anesthesia when they brought him back this morning. I could barely look at him, and wished that he'd stayed asleep. Thinking what it would be like to wake up find I had an entire limb missing. It would be fucking horrifying. Even moreso if I didn't understand why and nobody could explain to me.

I'm not an especially cold-hearted person, but I do have cold blood on tap at a moment's notice. If the vet had told me the extent of the injury and how much of Julian's wing they would have to amputate, I would have told them to euthanize rather than put him through that surgery.

Julian was one of my favorite birds at the sanctuary, one of the favorites in general. He was so fucking sexy, for one. Just a super good-looking bird. He'd been a decent surrogate parent for other anhingas. Definitely a loved part of the family.

It would have broken my heart to ask the vets to euthanize, but it would have broken my heart more to see him missing an entire wing, off balance and clumsy, unable to climb or swim, day after day, week after week, until he'd hurt himself to the point where he'd have to be euthanized anyway.

Julian did end up passing on his own a few hours later. I cried but was also relieved. Although I would have loved to have been wrong, the chances of him maintaining enough balance to have a decent quality of life were slim to none. He would have struggled, and he would have certainly suffered.

That's one of the worst things to see. Our peregrine suffered, too. Even when it was clear he was stressed, hurting, needing to go, hospital didn't do anything for him, just hoped for the off chance that he would get better anyway. Am I bitter? Hell yeah I am. Same old mentality from the previous director, much as they've claimed to move away from that.

Could the day get any rougher? Sure it could. Found out they'd dropped the largest non-nuclear weapon on Afghanistan over lunch. What in the fucking fuck?

I haven't been this freaked out over the possibility of war since the 80s. It's not like I even know what war is like. All I know is that people who don't know I even exist have the ability to destroy everything I care about in the world. Fuck them, and fuck that. We have failed so entirely as a species. We don't deserve to make it through the next wave of evolution.

Bitsy and Gatsby hung out together this afternoon, talking about apex predator things, talking about what to do about humans. They clearly do not deserve this planet, clearly have no consideration for anyone else who needs it. They have to go.

Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, I offer.

'We can't trust you,' says Bitsy. That's fair.

I could drive the car once you've got it all planned out and it's past the point where I could do anything about it, I pressed.

'That could be possible,' Bitsy decides.

I'm on their side, even if I'm not permitted to choose it until the end. I'm all for whatever Bitsy and Gatsby have planned.

Driving home from work, walking through the store, all I could imagine were burnt out fallen buildings, empty ash-riddled aisles. It did not depress me as much as you would thing. The primary feeling was one of 'good. we deserved this' and 'I want to watch this burn.'

I hope tomorrow goes better.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Tuesday night, I lured Ishmael and Queequeg into the car with delicious food and an irresistible cardboard box. Two cats entered, but only one cat made it into the house. Queequeg made a run for it.

I found him the next evening, up the neighbor's tree. Ladders were brought out, cans of food were cracked open, numerous pleas and promises were made.

Three days, a call to the tree trimmer's and $100 later, Queequeg is out of the tree.

Ishmael wants to make muffins on everything he can find under his little paws. I want to sleep for a week.
anaisninja: (IZA and fangs)
Queequeg also is very cuddly. <3 )
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)


Cannoli is one of the (many) resident lizards. The rusty toy cannon in the laundry room serves as her lair. I was about to move the toy and stack some paint cans on the shelf. When I took notice of her reproachful stare, I reconsidered. Then she let me pet her. :)

She's tiny, and her tail's a bit busted, but she's vigilant. She likes to perch on top of the cannon as though she's ready to fire, but I've yet to be quick enough to catch her on film.

A couple pics of Cannoli and her cannon. )
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
Squiddo's family and I drove out to St. Pete for some fishing Wednesday evening. Nothing was biting, but the raft was in the car, so I blew her up and rowed her out.

First time rowing here, and it's beautiful. The bay warm and calm as bath water, up in the tangley mangroves, there's egrets, herons and pelicans all doing their nails and shit. No bugs, that's no small feat in Florida. Perfect. I'm thinking for the hundredth time how much I love it here, and having the weird feeling that South is where I want to be, where I have to be.

I'm hugging close to the shore, waiting for thunderheads to roll over, scattered storms in the forecast to keep in mind. Clouds pass, the sun busts through and I'm off to the first islet I can see. There's all manner of birds out there, and it's maybe 100 yards off shore. Why not, I'll row out and back.

It took some doing getting back. )
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)



This is my friend Moe. He's a Red Eared Slider. Chris brought him home when he was a kid, along with another turtle, Curly. They're pretty big now; they'd have enough room in your bathtub to frolic, but only a bit of wiggle room in the bathroom sink. Larger than a ferret, but smaller than a lap cat.

Moe's a social fellow, and always swims up to me when he sees me heading to the pond. He'll let me pet him between his eyes, under his chin and on his front claws. I like to bring him snacks. Usually snails, but also watermelon, green beans and red lettuce. His favorite is turkey. It was so good that Curly got over her shyness and swam up to me for a snack, too. I can't give them too many - red eared sliders are notoriously greedy. That's Moe all right.
anaisninja: me and bitsy (Default)
At the risk of echoing predominately geriatric sentiments, of rocking the jasmine-scented, cornbread and watermelon eating, shooting and fishing with the boys cliche: I love Florida.

Everything here is alive. Bright flowers, heavy foliage, fruit trees, succulents and cacti all dine at the same table. Improbably purple jacaranda blossoms bring traffic to a standstill, sea grapes grow leaves round and large as tea cups, mangroves wade on tiptoes in the gulf, nothing is out of reach for the live oaks. The greenness, the water, the air itself radiates sound and sentience, reading clocks by mockingbird, flycatchers, nighthawks, chuck-will's-widows.

All climbable surfaces are subject to lizards in the day, geckos at night, and anything with six or more legs whenever they please. I cleaned the mansion of a multimillionaire in a high-falutin' gated community the other day and found an earwig in the master bedroom. No house is impervious to insects in Florida.

Wandering down the sidewalk in my neighborhood, I saw an egret. Ibis and sandhill cranes strolled in another, I found a great blue heron dumpster diving with Bonaparte's gulls by Tasty Home Cookin'. Pelicans, cormorants, eagles, vultures and kites can be your neighbors at any given moment.

The crows here talk as most seabirds do: all top of the throat and treble, so as to be heard over the ocean. If you've heard baby crows trying on their voices - they all sound like that here. It's adorable, and I've gotta get my dialect down.

We're in the middle of a drought here, but the nights manage to feel and smell of rain anyway. After three years of the high and dry country, any trace of moisture in the air smells like ferns, moss and ozone to me. Night + warmth + humidity + wind = my favorite hallucinogen. Throw in a package of Blue Raspberry Patch Kids and I'm set.

That which lied dormant in Summit county has awakened, charmed into a world far better than dreaming. There's so much to tell, but one story at a time.

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