Between my schedule since, like, forever and the short holiday week here in the US, I’m spinning. All day my head thought that it was Thursday, probably because there’s one more work day before I’m off, but for one truly horrible second there I thought that today was Monday and I had two days to go before the holiday and it nearly broke me. Fortunately I was able to look at my calendar and see that there were Tuesday meetings that I remember being in (let’s not do anything simple like look at the miniature supercomputer strapped to my wrist with the day and date and time prominently displayed)
Nope, it’s Tuesday. All day. One more day of work and then it’s four days off, three of which will probably be spent putting up Christmas lights.
Some days, no matter how many awards it won, “American Beauty” isn’t the film to watch.
And then when you turn it off and try to listen to music, the playlist gods just want to mess with your head.
Maybe I’ll just watch Iceland erupt – again. What’s the worst that can happen? (Looks at news and prays for the planet to crack in half and disintegrate into a slowly spreading cloud of debris.)
Most Sunday mornings early I’m at the grocery store, and in the fall and winter I’ll usually be wearing a Chiefs hat and T-shirt or sweatshirt of some sort. But then when I’m at home and the game’s actually on, I change into the “sacred vestments.”
The official jersey (#10, Isiah Pacheco), the “lucky” hat that I’ve worn for every game for probably ten years or more now, the beads (most of which came from Red Lobster when I order a Lobsterita and need to have a designated driver, but hey, they’re red and gold!).
Today I was running late and it was an early (10:00 on the West Coast) game, so I just went to grocery store in full regalia, with the radio coverage of the game blasting out from my pocket via the SiriusXM app on my phone.
People stared. Children pointed. I got attention.
I prefer to think it was just jealousy. Folks wished they were as cool as I was.
I feel like I’m having some writer’s block or a dry spell or sorts. I’m so busy and tapped out and tired that I really don’t spend as much time taking pictures and getting out as I used to, and now that Daylight Saving Time ended I don’t seem to have any time when it’s light out where I’m not at the office. And I’m AT THE OFFICE, which is a totally different time dynamic than working from home. And of course, there’s the world to deal with. IYKYK.
I’m off my game.
On the one hand I’m feeling accomplished at the moment with a number of critical projects off my plate and I feel like I’m making a lot of progress on getting ahead of the game, which also feels good, I’m going to the gym and working out, which also is good.
But creatively, it’s just data mining through twenty years of digitial photographs.
I guess it could be worse. I might not have tens of thousands of photos to flip through.
And flipping through the photos looking for something to share is often a pleasant trip down memory lane. For example, I only get to the Ventura Pier and the beach about once every two or three years, but I usually really enjoy it. I should go back more often!
This whole random train-of-thought thing is odd. Sorry.
It’s that time of year again. This goes back many years, as some folks celebrate birthdays, wedding anniversaries, Christmas, and so on, I, a child of way, way too many cross-country road trips crammed into the back of a station wagon with seven siblings (and not a seat belt in sight!) play license plate games and celebrate the arrival of the new tags every year. I’ve been looking but haven’t yet seen a single 2026 tag, so I have the first one that I’ve seen.
Yes, as stated in previous years, I understand exactly how sad and pathetic this is. You’re welcome and thenk you for sharing this special occasion with me for 2024.
There’s been a fair amount of stress due to three large deadlines all coming due in the last week. The good news is that the final two were met today, somehow.
The bad news is that – A) there’s another one in 48 hours, so I get to hit that one hard tomorrow, and B) I’m so exhausted from everything and all of the hours that have gone into this that I can’t really celebrate or feel a lot of satisfaction. Yeah, it’s far better to have hit all three deadlines than to have blown them, but that’s my head talking, not my heart or gut.
Meanwhile, there’s a really bright moon out there and it’s clear and cool.
You can still see Vega over on the right – I’m surprised that the cell phone camera can pick out any stars at all with the bright moon.
And I’m still not back in sync after the switch out of Daylight Saving Time last week.
Yesterday while taking down the Halloween decorations, I found an odd little lump or pod in the front yard.
Hand for scale.
It stood out and I’ve never seen one like it before, so I was curious. Was it some sort of larva or bug? Some piece of scat or critter poop? No clue! It seemed to be dry and light, but that’s about all I could tell.
Then today when I was bringing in the weekly groceries, I found another.
Now that I was alert to their existence, I found a third one.
And a fourth on the driveway.
This one has some sort of a stem on the left side, and it’s in a huge pile of debris from the Italian cypress trees along the side of the garage, needles and small branches blown down by that tremendous wind storm here earlier in the week. And there’s the clue that solved the mystery!
I did a Google search for “Italian Cypress seed pods” and got this:
I don’t see any on the eight or ten trees we have growing there, but it’s obvious that’s what they are and where they come from. Mystery solved!
Next question – can I grow new trees from these seeds? One thing about many of the houses we’re looking at in the High Desert is that they’re a bit on the barren side from a landscaping perspective. Almost all have fencing, mostly chain link, but it would be really nice to line those long fences with Italian Cypresses eventually, both for privacy reasons and for esthetic reasons. If these four seed pods or pine cones are full of viable seeds, can I get a stack of small pots and potting soil and start my own personal forest now, then have them ready to go (albeit small) for transplant when the Willett Forever Home is secured?
Why, yes, I can!
My own little minion/Ent legion! It might not be as straightforward as winning the lottery and paying a gardener or landscape designer to buy them from a nursery and plant them for me, but it will probably be more interesting.
“Adulting” is a curious term that apparently means doing things that you REALLY don’t want to do but you’re SUPPOSED to do because you’re an adult. Like getting a trainer and going to the gym every Wednesday after work and supposedly “enjoying” being so sore you can barely move for the next two days.
Those four green bars from 17:30 to 18:30? Yep, doing that to myself ON PURPOSE! And paying for the priviledge. At the end of a sort of sucky day to begin with.
And the next time you think AI is going to save us all, or even give you a correct answer to a simple question (“How many ‘r’s’ in ‘Strawberry?’), consider how stupid it is to be reminded of the anniversary of your own murder. Unless a lot of crows are involved, that doesn’t make much sense.
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 