Week Thirty-Nine: Altered Senses

You know that feeling when things go all sideways? And no, that doesn't mean the feeling fueled by controlled or other outside substances. This is about Life. Perspectives are a screwy business. Just when things seem well sorted, Life happens and Perspectives shift. Futures once so clear become the stuff of parallel universes. Recent events and conversations have indicated that one can have one's Heart broken without ever realising one's Heart was in any danger. Most people would avoid such perilous situations, or at least see them for what they were and brace for impact. Others don't see it coming, and find themselves looking at a post mortem in an impressive imitation of the old RCA Victor dog. Heavy stuff for a photography blog. Hmmm. Here are the photos.

Day 1 (267): 1st of September
Quiet roar of cars on a morning street. Not so many that it makes a cacophonous backdrop; streets only slightly damp with the night's precipitation source the sound of the sporadic set of wheels, then echo it against the odd strain of a distant street musician and off myriad storefronts.

Day 2 (268): 2nd of September
Late night music wafting over the air and the sound of rain. The occasional frog squeak and dog bark add to the orchestration, but not even the usual chorus of house alarms and draconic water heaters dares ruin the soundtrack of a peaceful night. 

Day 3 (269): 3rd of September
Acrid smell of wood stain battles with Midnight Dare and the shampoo in my hair. Even the familiar scent of Things Burning and Neighbours Cooking cannot overcome the much closer and more powerful malodourous chemicals now coating my porch roof.

Day 4 (270): 4th of September
Deep molasses of exhaustion turns muscles into sand; even facial muscles become heavy and difficult to control. Insomnia paired with the drone of planners attempting to put together lofty strategies with no regard for established requirements, force even the most dedicated and caffeinated meeting-goer to fight to not tumble face first out of the chair.

Day 5 (271): 5th of September
Fierce flavours of garlic, rosemary, pepper, and strangely enough a tiny bit of dill paint a colourful picture on the tastebuds. When added to mozzarella, tomato, and the juiciest sausage ever to grace the surface of a pizza, the effect is the kind of divine food-vana reminiscent of a religious experience localised in the mouth.

Day 6 (272): 6th of September
Dark clouds race from the north, threatening the busy weekend errand-doers. When the clouds open up, all senses are flooded (if one is brave enough to walk from the safety of the shop through the deluge with one's bags). Rain the perfect temperature, if a bit enthusiastic, smacks the skin and soaks the clothes; the taste of slightly contaminated precipitation slips into the corners of the mouth; the air takes on the distinct scent of dry earth and asphalt suddenly doused; with all other humans hiding under shelter, the only sound is that of thunderclaps and a great downpour on metal, cement, foliage, and flesh; nothing is more beautiful to witness than a massive storm, complete with great flashes of lightning.

Day 7 (273): 7th of September
Joy of lovely morning sun peering in through the gaps in the closed metal shutters hinting at a beautiful morning and fruitful day. Nothing can sully the view for the eyes of those determined to be content. Soft light, soft clouds, and clear air promise better times ahead.

Gratuitous black and white.

Lots to ponder. Apologies for the dramatic twist in tone, but sometimes these things happen when one's mind is occupied with a particular set of thoughts and that same mind is the kind to obsess and stew far beyond the point at which most sane human beings would move on. 

Week Thirty-Three: A Better State

Damn. Damn. Theme? Central thought? Forgot my notebook again, and as such have forgotten all the neat thoughts I wanted to get down in this thing this week. I think the indulgences of being on leave for a second week are the only unifying details. Be it indulging in more food, more channel surfing, more dowhatibloodywant-ing, or more equine time, all was truly marvellous. Does much for improving one's state of mind.

Day 1 (225): 21st of July
Nothing can bring me closer. Nothing can bring me near. Where is the road I travelled, to lead me here? Oh, wait. Nevermind. Found it. Sing at someone else, R.E.M. (though I do love that song). One thing on that road is my silly filing cabinet system of memories. Some have been damaged by fire and other natural disasters, and others eaten by Brain Mice. Those that remain are in decent condition, and cause the occasional fit of nostalgia. Can't be helped. Lookie what I found in the Ancestral Home. Still works (and yes there is still a small collection of tapes to play in it). And the time is not flashing 12:00, but rather is just flashing the : part. 

This guy is there, too. We call him Old Bill. He was a gift to my Dear Father for his time as a Cav Officer in the US Army. He was also tragically dropped many years ago and painstakingly glued back together (most of his scars are in the lower boot region). Tough old guy. 

Day 2 (226): 22nd of July
Oh I wake in the morning and I step outside, and I take a deep breath and I get real high (not like that), and I scream from the top of my lungs, "what's going on?!" Then it turns out nothing really much is going on and I'm just a nutter shouting at the world (which we all know doesn't make it better). Does make one feel better, though. Like looking at a chicken.

I AM A CHICKEN! SEE? LOOK AT ME!! HEAR ME! Got any watermelon?

Allow me to introduce you to Blindy Tim (nee Tiny Tim, nee Nameless Bunny #12). He is a couple months old, is blind in both eyes (see the cataract?), and has a gammie left hopping leg (Ma probably stepped on him as a wee kit). Notice the tongue - even adorable bunnies get awarded the awkward candid shot. Timmy here is the softest, chillest, coolest little dude who almost died twice as a tiny thing, but just wants to live so much we have to oblige. And when I say soft, I mean that there was a serious possibility that I'd pet his coat straight off him. 

Day 3 (227): 23rd of July
Oh there is a... deeper river... flowing through the... Treasure Valley. It doth call me, to come and float it. For heat is all. For heat is all. What was that? Blame the Boise River. Like some form of Martian water monster, it got in my brain today. Such a delightful way to spend an afternoon. Lolling about in a tube with one's arse dangling in the cold river as the current takes one along is a special experience. It is also one I've not had in many moons. The River Gods giveth and taketh away, however.  My friend lost her rainbow wayfarers and I lost an earring. A small price to pay for happiness, no? Look at this flipping sky. This is what it normally looks like (i.e. sans yucky smoky ash face). 

If ye've not noticed, I'm inclined to take photos of my favourite animals being less than picturesque. Mid-yawn is a great time for a kodak moment. 

Or perhaps I shall take the shot whilst this other poor fellow is mid-roll.

Day 4 (228): 24th of July
Everybody wants to rule the world. Well, perhaps not everybody. I'm perfectly happy doing my thing. Today was originally scheduled to take place in the great city of San Diego. Due to unanticipated circumstances, however, it has been moved to the Treasure Valley. Specifically the northwest-ish part of Boise where it turns into Eagle. High on a hill, there are some ponies. And a great view (still not smoky!!) of the lovely valley. So nice. 

I take many pictures of ponies. I know this comes as a total shock. Sometimes they come out pretty passable (pony go sideways...). Dear Reader, this is Legolas.

Other times adorable (happy boys grooming each other - it had to be monochrome). 

Sometimes a sweet face emerges. (This is Electrum. He says hello.)

And sometimes the motion is just right. 

And finally, there are the times I cannot help myself. I'm such a child. 

Day 5 (229): 25th of July

Take my breath away (on that highway to the danger zone). Turns out there are still people in the world who have not seen TOP GUN. I have sorted one of them. All after the great Madhuban Feast of 2014. There may have been food left on the buffet table after we were finished, but it was not for our lack of trying. Nothing quite compares to wandering thrift stores with a food fetus that feels like twins. And this is coming from the girl who has single-handedly eaten whole sheet cakes, multiples of cheesecakes in a row, and multiples of large pizzas in a row. By now you can see I have a thing about buffets / AYCE / people daring or offering money in exchange for eating insane amounts of things. But on the way home from PT (which was no picnic with said fetus still cooking) I saw these wild sunflowers and leapt into the ditch (in my truck - I'm not a complete idiot) to take their photo.

Aren't they just rather jolly flowers? 

Day 6 (230): 26th of July
Dance your cares away. Worries for another day. Let the Music play. Down in Idaho. One thing for which I find myself longing more and more is the ability to properly dance again. It's so hard to hear the music and not get down with my bad self. The boogie wants out and it does not take kindly to excuses about how it hurts and oh not now thanks. As am again not at SDCC (quit whinging, Rodeo) the father and I went to the Basque Festival (for St. Ignacio). Amazingly enough, I didn't see a single person I knew.

There we enjoyed the beer and music and dancing and people watching and watching a mad man with a grand pan make piles of paella. As there is no scale, I'll tell you the pan is about four feet across.

A wander showed me how much this little town (only 205, 000 or so) has transmogrified in the past few years. For a good portion of my teen years (maybe all of them) there was a great gaping pit in the middle of Downtown - the result of failed development project after failed development project. Now stands in the Hole the tallest building in Boise. Seems a bit much for little old Boise.

Not far off from there is the plaza that featured in many an evening, afternoon, and really any other time of day when I was younger. A great bistro used to be here (now it's a seafood place), we built christmas trees for charity here, and there is a concert place / hockey arena / arena football field here as well. The fountain also has long been entertaining Boiseans of all ages on hot summer days and nights. 

Day 7 (231): 27th of July
Only the lonely (dum dum dum dumby doo wah) know the way I feel tonight (ooh yay yay yay yeah). Why is that in particular the song that popped in my head? It has no relevance to the matter at hand. Which is what, you ask? Well, the matter is just that. Confused? So am I. Let's move on, shall we? Lovely morning for my last full day in the Home Place. Poor Stu Bean has no idea I'll be abandoning him on the morrow.

Nor do these two trees (though I imagine they will be rather less traumatised, being trees and all). Why the odd border? Who knows.

Ooh look! Leaves on another tree! With drops of water from the sprinkler! Wow!

Have I mentioned my dreams have soundtracks?

Week Thirty-One: The Things She Carried

...and that, Best Beloved, is how the Leopard got its spots. Oh, hello there! Welcome back to the blog. We have a lovely installment for you this week. Full of dreams and imagination and memories and strange things. Alright, truth be told, this week is all about those things I find any and every time I decide to initiate a Great Purge. Doesn't always happen in the spring/summer, but does happen on a fairly regular basis. As I've moved hither and yon, I've accumulated rather a lot of stuff. Some of that stuff is useful and meaningful, but most of it is the byproduct of my tendencies to ferret away frightfully useful things that may or may not be needed or wanted at a later date. These, Dear Readers, are my skeletons. Please don't judge me too harshly...

Day 1 (211): 7th of July
Best thing about this week? Other than the mere four days of work required, the leaving on a jet plane and heading west young man is the highlight. By late evening on Saturday, I'll be safe in the bosom of the ancestral home where things make sense and I can bask in the glow of denial. Makes all other Life silliness bearable in the interim. Also motivates the Purge, as some things will be carried back Stateside for donation or destruction. Turns out I have some rather odd things in the running for Purge. Both impulse buys and strange things with unknown origins. For example, one hideous uncomfortable pair of sun specks (yes I tried them on), and one odd Happy Meal-looking bobble head toy that I know I've had for at least two moves, but I've not the foggiest from whence it came, or really even why it exists at all...

Then of course we have the pile of things that have either not been touched for years or have just far outlived their purpose. Here we have some ancient burgled airplane headphones, the charger from a Nokia I had in college, an underwater film camera (film still in it...), the charger/sync station from my 2006 Dell palm pilot (it was free and has since disappeared), and finally a 2012 planner (with not a single mark in it). Who does this?

Day 2 (212): 8th of July
An unfortunate side effect of digging in drawers is that the hits just keep on coming. One odd discovery begets another and so on. The heap of long expired birth control gave way to three cans of unused film and more odd bits of paper than I care to detail. Furthermore, found a stack of C4ISR magazines from 2011 (gosh I'm nerdy), a v rusty slinky, a random thing of lavender tea (probably stolen from a Hong Kong hotel considering the chinese lettering), gun oil, and not one but two packs of (expired) dollar store C batteries.

My many deployments and travels have resulted in the accumulation of much foreign currency, such as Japanese, Malaysian, Korean, Singaporean, Emirati, etc. Don't even get me started on the amount of Djiboutian Francs I still have. So much Monopoly money. At some point I acquired some odd plastic christmas toys with parachutes. And at the bottom you'll find a beaded bracelet I made a million years ago when having beaded bracelets was just the coolest.

Day 3 (213): 9th of July
As a wanderer of the world, I stay in many hotels, be they on ships, bases, or in normal towns. I also take things from hotels. Like keys (that I forget to shred), and apparently coffee singles, sugar, and pens. Sadly this is but a small portion of the amount I've discovered throughout the Purge.

Good Lord. It just keeps going. Must be a compulsion. Who needs this many notepads?

Day 4 (214): 10th of July
Nope. Nothing exciting in life at the moment (is there ever?) But honestly, what is this? A bag of marble-y things (with a hole in it so they can spill all over the place), and a scary finger puppet.

Good news, readers - I have graduated from places. And apparently needed several hat tassels to do so. Was I wearing three hats upon my high school graduation? And two after University? Good grief.

Day 5 (215): 11th of July
Hello. My name is Rodeo and I am a pack rat. If you give a Rodeo a little container, she will fill it with whatever will fit. For example, what to do with a Jelly Belly tin? Why not fill it with nothing but pennies, a pair of earrings, a marble-y thing, and movie ticked stubs from 2009.

I do tend to buy a lot of notebooks. It is a compulsion. Some of these have nothing in them, and some have loads of chicken scratch and doodles (apparently I have long been a doodler).

Day 6 (216): 12th of July
Ahhhh Business Class... America Bound! No more to say. But the things on the chopper this time are t-shirts. A great stack. Either impulse buys, grab bag buys, or random too-big shirts I'd have happily rocked at the age of 8, when I figured the bigger a shirt was, the better (thanks, '80s). Also some dresses that are either too big, too small (I've been many a size in my life), or too hard to explain (try things on, people!). All are getting their own bag for carriage back home. For photo purposes, my collection of nail polish that I've not used in rather a long time. So many colours.

Quality, no? Clearly I use these all the time...

Golly, Claire's?? Why? And When?

Day 7 (217): 13th of July
Erasers... so many erasers. This must have been a thing when I was just a wee young lass.

Yes. Polaroid. So much Polaroid. This one still has 3 photos left in the film.

Most importantly, I carry my memories. Daw... Gosh we look young.

My skeletons. And this has only been the tip of a large, frightening iceberg. Necessary evils, indeed. 

Week Twenty-Six: Blithering to Bavaria

I turn to others (mostly dead others) this week to say what I am perfectly capable of saying. They just have better names and as such their way of saying things is better. The week started in dreams and ended in Bavaria.

Day 1 (176): 2nd of June
“What, then, is truth? A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms – in short, a sum of human relations, which have been enhanced, transposed, and embellished poetically and rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm, canonical, and obligatory to a people: truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that this is what they are; metaphors which are worn out and without sensuous power; coins which have lost their pictures and now matter only as metal, no longer as coins.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)
How about this illusion? Who knew there was a rather cheeky face in the washing machine?

Day 2 (177): 3rd of June
“It takes patience to appreciate domestic bliss; volatile spirits prefer unhappiness.” (George Santayana)
There is certainly a volatile spirit in the door handle, too. Creeeeepy....

“By object is meant some element in the complex whole that is defined in abstraction from the whole of which it is a distinction.” (John Dewey)
Is this an abstraction? At least there are no faces in the tumble dryer.

Day 3 (178): 4th of June 
“I believe that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade... And try to find somebody whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.” (Ron White)

That has nothing to do with this photo of the moon. Unless the party is under the waxing moon.

Nor has it anything to do with this one of some pins. It's the year of the horse, folks. Get with it.

Day 4 (179): 5th of June 

“If the path be beautiful, let us not ask where it leads.” (Anatole France)

Is the path of a Naval Officer beautiful? Sometimes, certainly. 

“A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” (Eleanor Roosevelt)
Sing it, Ellie! Being as how it is my mum's birthday today, that is fitting. She's as strong as they come. Happy Birthday, Mama! I am who I am because of you.

Day 5 (180): 6th of June 

“My fake plants died because I did not pretend to water them.” (Mitch Hedberg)
Gone to Bavaria. Yes, that is a bit of Germany, but don't tell the locals. They'll get their lederhosen in a bunch. Gosh it's nice here. So green and mountainy and summery and sleepy. And I'm in a quaint but quite nice B&B called Hotel Fux. Yes that is really the name. It means Fox. But yes, I know. People are so nice. And things are so simple and quiet and ordered. Bless the German mentality. This is the view from my balcony. Big cross on top of big turtle-headish mountain.

Day 6 (181): 7th of June 

“Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.” (Mark Twain)
Do you want to build a sn- hang on, sorry... Do you want to climb a mountain? Of course I do. Because I am ridiculous. That thing I photographed yesterday? The one with the rocky bit and the cross? Why not. I've a couple days to kill in Bavaria and nothing else to do. Besides it's free and the weather is nice. Ready for a slew of photos? So nice and zen in the woods.

Even when those woods are on a rather intense slant. Why did I decide this was a good idea?

Even this tree wants me to turn around. "Back that way, silly thing. That way is down. Haven't you sweated enough?" Yes, I was doing my celebrated impression of a whore in church. Sorry, I mean to say a woman of the night in a house of worship.

Around this point I got adopted by a family of germans going at about my pace. Though really I think they mostly were concerned I'd kill myself without supervision. In the words of every Star Wars character ever, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Last little respite before the final climb. Again the temptation to turn round and go back. Only 45 mins back down (by the way, it took me just over two hours to get up here...) but only 20 mins more to the top of the peak... why not.

Didn't make it to the toppest top. Largely because of the omigawd pain in the spinal area. Also because the last 70 feet or so of climb was pretty much vertical. And my celebrated impression of a Bavarian mountain goat was a bit, erm, nonexistent. And I was wearing these.

Not too bad for a girl in pain. Got back down in almost exactly 45 minutes, mostly driven by the prospect of a soft bed and pain killers. But I made it farther up than I expected. To the shoulder just there by the top. Gosh this picture makes it look much less intimidating...

Day 7 (182): 8th of June 
“Our intelligence cannot wall itself up alive, like a pupa in a chrysalis. It must at any cost keep on speaking terms with the universe that engendered it.” (William James)
There were grand plans in place in order to keep on speaking terms with the universe, but instead I opted to keep on speaking terms with my spine (which still has not forgiven me for yesterday). Probably a boring proposition and one that is robbing me of a valuable experience, but really I think I'll stick with not being in any more pain than the usual. Standing up and going for food is a grievous enough prospect... I mean, look at the sad face on the pastry... I don't want to make that face.

See? Honestly. How pathetic. (But also so tasty - probably why it's sad.)

More of Bavaria to come. Consider the end of this week as a teaser for next week, which will be rather the opposite (i.e. mostly Bavaria with a close out w/end back in dear old Napoli).
“You tell 'em I'm comin' and hell's comin' with me!” (Sheriff Earp)