Sidetracked Charley

Pink Hollyhock Our strange winter resulted in the death of the poppy bed. And BoBear and Boca cooperated in totally overturning the Hollyhock bed. In their defense I think voles had taken up residence. So this season has been about restarting established beds. The poppy bed I fell back to Icelandic poppies which bloom the first year. I know better than to try for roses which seem to do better in green houses. And I bit the bullet and bought several two year old hollyhocks to plant in that bed. One double ruffle black hollyhock survived the scourge and a friend bought me four blacks she found in Taos. Two of them were planted in the devastated poppy bed. I also had seeds left from my previous bed, and while I probably won't see the results of those for a couple years, it felt like I was on my way to re-establishing the bed under my studio windows. Sunflower seeds also planted but like much of everything in this year without a summer they seem slow. The old red orie

Too much going on. And I can get a little crazy when there is to much I need to do. But not to worry, I will not declare myself The Chosen One . I will just lose track of  computer glasses. Again. And lose some sleep. More sleep. Waking up after just three or four and falling into the trap of hamster wheel thinking.  In the wee hours before dawn I remember a trick that used to work to make the hamster go back to sleep -- paper and pen beside the bed. Course I had to get up and go downstairs and find a pen and paper, so I could write down the worries keeping me up. Then in the morning I could look at my midnight scribbles and decide which to take up after coffee. Course that just seems to make me busier. So triage. In my days of working for corporate America these were skills I was well schooled in. I must confess to a re-learning curve here at the moment. I cannot seem to get past finding my computer glasses. They should be at my desktop or my laptop. Or since I was t

Mother knew that from the day I was born. I clearly did not want to be here and my early years did little to change that attitude. I have become better at reining in the inner brat. More accepting of life on earth. And generally all goes well until I don't feel good. I have no patience with being sick. I do not suffer limitations joyfully. I am always in negotiations. I have always been production oriented. I came from a highly competitive family and I could compete by producing drawings and paintings and making sandcastles. I couldn't beat my brother at games because he cheated so I decided not to play. When forced to stay home because I was sick I was angry. I became quite creative at what I could do from forced bed rest or when Mother mandated a nap. I never napped. But mother never ceded that battleground. Friday when I began to feel sick I refused to give up. I had things to do and a schedule I had set for myself and damn I was going to do it. But as the day wore o

I do not have a clock beside my bed. Retired from a corporate life I do not have to be up and going at any certain time. But even then I so hated the sound of the alarm I would set a time inside my head to be awake. That time was ten minutes before the alarm was set to go off. And most days I made that. These days in retirement or self-employment (is there a difference) I do not need to rise at any give time but I play this game of guessing what time it is when something wakes me up. These days it can be needing to pee - yet again. Or my shoulder aching because I slept on it wrong. Or a dream I cannot remember. What keeps me awake are random thoughts I do not seem to be able to consign to the slot of tomorrow. But if left unattended they can become hamster wheel thinking. They spring from something unsettled in the course of a day or days. Lately those thoughts in the dark have been about my camera. There was this lens which seemed to have self-destructed for no reason. And the

Ghost Elk The title comes from a Kermit the Frog song about being different, being green. Today in political speak it means being an environmentalist and believing in not using single use plastics among other things. In a way maybe Kermit is a lot like an environmentalist these days. It isn't easy being green. But I have felt like a frog in a shrinking pond much of my life so I should be used to it by not. And if it is me alone, I am comfortable in my own green skin, except for those brief glimpses of myself when I am shocked at what I see. My sister, also a photographer, does not like the image above. She is bothered by the fact so little of it is in focus. Frankly, that is what I love about it. Of 90 photographs I took on a day's adventure out of my safe valley It is among my two favorites. One of eight I chose to pay to have printed on canvas. My printer is also an artist and a friend. She liked it too. We both saw past its lack of technical photographic merits, or la

There is something about the road to Raton and back which makes me understand pilgrimages to Mecca. Though maybe on another level. It is not about Mecca. It is about the journey there, and back. I have written so many blogs here about the Revealed Truth that I have lost count so have decided to go to date notations. The road out yesterday was with a friend I love to have conversations with. And not because she agrees with me on all things. We are both centralists forced to make decisions between two parties we don't agree with. We see things differently some even when we are the only two in the cab of the truck sharing windshield time.  Most of the mountain west would be centralists if not forced to make choices in elections. I cannot be a conservative because I believe in a woman's right to choose. And I cannot be a liberal because I will absolutely not give up my right to arm myself. We believe in our land and the independence to keep it pristine. But as all settlers to a

It occurred to me as I was trying to make myself watch the Democratic debate that I loathe them all. How in hell can they sit there an argue petty shit when by the time the election rolls around Trump will have declared himself dictator of a rapidly dying planet with polluted air and water and melting ice caps. Fuck them. This is worse than Nero Fiddling while Rome Burned. And that is factoring in that Nero had fires set to get the real estate cheap. Just exactly what Trump is doing for Putin and Moscow Mitch. If the Democrats do not begin Impeachment before the primaries I am not voting in the Democratic primary. I live in a closed primary state but I can change that in ten minutes on the computer. I could vote Republican if Trump is primaried. I sort of like that idea frankly. I realized I have been pissed off with the DNC since they ditched Bernie for the Witch of Arkansas. And the fact that they are constantly asking me for money has not helped. I have no money in part be