perhaps I'm just cranky, but really, WTF

I am, as of yet, unschooled in the lingo of 'skate city' but I am generally aware that refugee status is given to those fleeing danger (often on foot) with the bare minimum of things that they have access to.

However, should you be on the run and not able to part with anything except the kitchen sink, you can stuff this bag (retailing for $140.00), called the 'Element Refugee Wheeled Bag' with your "favorite T-shirts, skate pants, and maybe a few pairs of extra undies, and embark on the vacation of a lifetime. This carry-on luggage has two compartments to keep you organized, plenty of pockets, including a mesh one for your stinkables, and super durable skate wheels that can take the knocks of constant travel." {emphasis added, by author. Meant to express extreme displeasure with word choice of manufacturer}

All Oregon....

So, while I was making dinner tonight, Joe stepped outside to talk to the neighbors; when he returned, he mentioned that he learned that our neighbors two houses down go out to dinner every night at the same place, at the same time. Read into it what you will, but a sly smile danced across my face as I served up our fourth homemade all Oregon dinner this summer, made with a combination of CSA goodies and veggies from our yard.

Every time I take photos, the garden just gets bigger, everything is twice the size of the last photos, so I have to go out again. But I did harvest some mint the other night and set it to dry-we will be rollin' in peppermint tea this winter.

...but doesn't she know the world is flat?

The nytimes article this morning addressing Palin's resignation included this little tidbit:

"The sheer distance of Alaska from the rest of the country complicated her ability to take care of the most basic kind of presidential preparation work: going to Republican Party dinners, developing a network of fund-raisers and supporters and becoming educated about the issues."

hmmmmm....

A shift in where the teeth sink in

I have recently been re-entrenched in the discussions of the US/Mexico border, the series of walls that are being built and the subject of undocumented immigration. This issue of immigration, which is always framed in the public eye as a problem, has intrigued me for some time. It will be something that I need to keep, if not in the immediate foreground of my research, at least on a warmish back burner. Chiapas has one of the higher remittance recipient rates in Mexico and has both a large outmigration of its income earning population as well as influx of undocumented immigrants from neighboring Guatemala.

I pulled up the nytimes this morning as I settled down with a cup of coffee and read this article on the new efforts to address the high number of undocumented immigrants in the US. I have to say that I find it refreshing to see that resources are going to a campaign of dialogue rather than one of terror, but that it is a far cry from coalescing lasting change, (or perhaps after hearing that word slung around so much during the campaign I expect quite a bit of it, and for it to have depth). I think fining companies that willingly embrace undocumented immigration is definitely a way to send a message (although American Apparel seems a less worrisome target, as they pay their employees well and offer health benefits-which is usually not the case), but as Joe dryly pointed out, those fines could perhaps be put to better use by being funneled into helping workers obtain legal documents. As I tend to think with many things, undocumented immigration is largely a problem of access (in this case, to legal documentation and by access I mean material wealth).

In related news, I have long desired to watch the Linklater adaptation of Schlosser's book "Fast Food Nation," but because I am familiar with the extraordinarily depressing content I kept shuffling it down the netflix queue in favor of more lighthearted flicks. Well, I finally gave in this week and we watched it. I was curious where the focus would fall, it's an almost 400 page book that addresses many issues along the greater fast food chain. The film focused in nicely on feedlots, meatpacking and the trials of undocumented immigrants in meat packing plants. I strongly encourage you to pick up the film or book and see for yourself.

One further note on border crossing...the film shows a brief glimpse of what a desert crossing entails, for further reading, check out Luis Alberto Urrea's book "The Devil's Highway," it is beautifully written.

Varying degrees of evil

Okay, I get it, money is important. I do, I really do understand.

But something about giving Madoff 150 years for "crimes [that] were extraordinarily evil" really sits funny with me. One of the people quoted in this article lost $2.5 million, they were already at the top of the economic hierarchy-I know that the majority of the money that was stolen was not from the elite, but it gave me pause to think that an "extraordinarily evil" fraudster gets 150 years when the amount of time that rapists (for example) are sentenced to is counted in months.

I see a red wall, I must have it painted...red

The living room face lift.

- Before

- During
- Mostly After

Also, Pocket thought paint would be delicious and tried to eat some, after that small disaster he was content to watch:

that's all you get for now, summer sesh started yesterday and I'm in lecture writing mode. It seems rather cruel that it should take three times as long to write a lecture as it does to deliver it. Oh well.

Banksy

Guerrilla Art.

Everything good is bad for you

From one of the blogs I follow:

The dangers of the White House Organic Garden. (link to Daily show piece)

Bringing up Broccoli

I received an email the other day from a friend who is abroad complimenting the garden photos from April....well, what a difference a month makes...

I'm not going to lie, I have spent way more time planting and playing in the garden then should be reasonable for a PhD student.

Let's go fly a kite!

Joe's birthday surprise this year was a trip to the coast for the weekend. And by surprise, I really mean surprise, I picked and packed the clothing, gear and foodstuffs and let him know that he would be whisked away no later then 2pm on Friday, but that was it.

We ventured west and then south to arrive in the very small town of Langlois, at Floras Lake B&B. The weather was not lovely. In fact, given that the main point of the trip was to take advantage of the Floras Lake Kite boarding, the outdoors was looking a bit daunting. I fretted as the rain fell in fat drops.

It was, however, a rather pleasant experience as the temperature was not too cold (rain be damned!).

On Friday evening we walked out the back porch of our room in the south wing and ventured towards the beach to have a look. It was raining sideways and we emerged on the beach half soaked. The cool part of this particular location as a place for windsurfing and kite boarding is that you get all the wind that you would playing on the ocean, but in the comfort of a freshwater lake. So, the wind offered a challenging walk to the pebbly beach and back. But we changed into dry clothes and headed back north for dinner in Bandon at the Wild Rose Bistro (fantastic!).

Saturday morning found us the only guests in the house; not too surprising considering the shrieking winds and sheets of rain. We had the run of the house and the full attention and conversation of the fabulous caretakers and owners who sat and ate breakfast with us. The owner, kite instructor and weather guru made claims that the less than fantastic weather would pass before midday and Joe could go out and see about some kite lessons. He was correct and despite a few droplets every once and awhile, Joe (and after a few hours of homework, I) played around with the trainer kites on the beach of the lake.

Sunday greeted us with sunshine which made me feel slightly better (having thrown Joe into this). Joe went out early and donned a wetsuit and watched the wind change over the lake. Eventually the wind began to cooperate enough to get out on the water and he slid around the lake with various kites. I ventured out of the room to sit on the windy beach and do some reading and observing.



I have to say, kiting looks rather fun and with the major advances in wetsuits since I last wore one (eh...20 years ago) I think I might be tempted to get out on the water myself.


We also stopped at Honeyman Lake, which I have only been to once, about 10 years ago with Toph who had spent childhood days there (calling it Honeymoon Lake, if memory serves). I need to dig up some old photos of it and scan them.

The dunes in Oregon are simply fabulous, but lakes like these will soon disappear in the erosion of the sand (the dock barely touches the water anymore).

Introducing...

With the painful absence of Quasi in the household tensions between Catch and Risa have reached an all time high. The growling and hissing have become extremely frustrating, breaking reading concentration and nights of good sleep. It soon became a near constant reminder of the loss of Quas and the dramatic change in wrought in our lives.

It was clear that Catch needed a new buddy, someone who would actually play with him, instead of growling every time he came in the room. So we visited the local Humane Society and had a stroll around their cattery. I wish I had a photo, it was such a neat way to meet cats. They had cat toys, beds, perches all spread out in one room, allowing the cats to run around and play with each other, or sleep on a windowsill or bird watch. They also had cubicles off to the side where sliding glass doors separated shy kitties and new additions from the cattery floor and one very small wall of cages for kitties recovering from surgery. We went on a weekday afternoon and visited with the kitties and talked about what it might be like to integrate another cat, and if we were really ready. It felt like it was so soon, too soon.

We talked about it all week, and then on Saturday morning went back to Greenhill to visit with the kitties again and see how we felt. We met a tiny little kitten who had just come out of surgery, "Raisin." He was situated in a cage on the wall and was performing an excellent spiderman impression, defying gravity by clawing around the cage wall upside-down and sideways ("spider-cat, spider-cat, does whatever spider-cat does"). He chatted with us, meowing loudly and one of the volunteers opened the cage so he could come out and meet us. He almost immediately climbed onto my shoulder and struck such an impression of Catch that we both thought he'd be a perfect playmate.

So, one black cat, no big deal. Two black cats, probably okay too. Three black cats seems to be a bit like smacking superstition in the face, perhaps we'll break a mirror to retain equilibrium.

We're pleased to introduce our newest: Pocket

Here he is coming home in the car on Joe's lap.

The first day home had me on tenterhooks as the hissing and growling in the house increased two-fold. I was afraid we had made a terrible mistake. Pocket, however, was unfazed by it all and continued to play all over the house, perhaps happy to have a big place to roam around having been in a cage for the better part of his life.

When he was surrendered to Greenhill he was a mess. His ears were all torn up and he had sustained a laceration on his right eye that had healed poorly and was infected and caused his eye to be mostly shut. The ear tears healed in such a way that he has a confetti like look on them both, giving him some character. But the eye had to be operated on to open it back up and clean up the infection. So his right eye has a slightly permanently surprised look, but it's all cleared up. We adopted him just 6 days after his eye surgery and he's already causing trouble.
After a 24 hour period of establishing hierarchy where I did my best to ignore Pocket while Catch was in the vicinity and gave Catch as much love as he could possibly stand, Pocket has been adopted into the clan. Risa has bopped him on the head and Catch has found a level of play and energy release that makes his hours of sleep seem more reasonable.


I wish I could explain just how tiny he is. We watched as he climbed onto our newly begun game and fell instantly to sleep. It seemed such a shame to wake him. But he took very little offense and instead installed himself on the arm of the couch.
A self portrait, all three cats helping me study:
Finding the sun:
He's such a little guy that right now we have the door to the mudroom open so that he can get to the litter box (which he's having differing degrees of success with). He is just barely 3 months old and is just shy of weighing 3 pounds and cannot possibly weigh enough to get through the cat-flap in the door.

He makes Catch seem huge (which is an accomplishment) and I have these moments where I'm afraid one of us will squish him he's so tiny. But he has a good and loud voice and so far, is a great addition.