Around 6:30 am I wandered groggily down the hallway, past the back door. I looked out to check the fog (nada) and looked down  to see a fluffy baby skunk sipping water out of the basin by the faucet. It was about 8 inches long with a tail that stood up about a foot. It was adorable. So glad I didn't startle it. 'll keep the camera close by in case he/she comes back in the morning.

Sounds of Summer, Part II

I don’t love the sound of gunshots, about 2 blocks away. The teens had a melee Sunday afternoon. One of our neighbors found out, “There were at least 4 squad cars present yesterday between 4 and 6 pm placing numbered cards wherever stray bullets were found lying on the ground. There were at least 30. School hasn't even been out more than a couple of days, so it looks like we're in for quite a summer.” Some injuries to participants. Crazy behavior. I’d prefer the sound of chickens and mowers, thank you very much.

Summer

Fog finally burns off around noon these days. Love the sound of the lawnmower and chickens--as long as they are about half block away.

 

 

I'm stuck

Anything I e-mail post to my blog http://yourwordsworth.blogspot.com/ goes to my facebook wall, with partial text and and missing photos I may have attached. I'm buffaloed. May have to start all over. Again.

Uh oh, I was insensitive

My casual commute involved a conversation with a chatty fun person, a teacher who absolutely adores her job teaching elementary school in the Tenderloin, an area of SF whose reputation is less than stellar. Yes, I said, I feel the same way about Oakland: a little jewel. Oh, really?  Then she told me how folks were shot in front of her house (about a mile away) and people keep breaking into houses around the block and her house is underwater and won't emerge for at least 10 years, and she and hubby are thinking of simply walking away. To Florida? I feel sheepish.

Choking arty

Anyone experienced with growing artichokes?  My first plant is now 3 feet high and 3 feet wide, with 3 or 4 little chokes emerging. Yum. News  and film at 10.

Wouldn't you know it

From a text I’m working on: “The pathophysiology of chronic post-traumatic headache is believed to be due to a combination of organic and psychological factors. Post-traumatic headache may be more common in patients with pre-existing psychopathology. In addition, financial incentives also seem to increase the rate of disabilities among patients with post-traumatic headaches.”

 

 

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Jeer Review

Maybe only editors will laugh, but Harper’s magazine made me do it and led me to it:

 

http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1462-2920.2010.02394.x/full

My personal favorite? Perhaps the last on the list: “The writing and data presentation are so bad that I had to leave work and go home early and then spend time to wonder what life is about.” Or a runner-up, “The biggest problem with this manuscript, which has nearly sucked the will to live out of me, is the terrible writing style.”

Collections in the garage

Mother Nature is mad, the president still looks sad (but he's oh so articulate), and I have a ridiculously minute (my newt) problem: whether/how to transfer my excellent record collection that's been moldering in the garage  to MP3. To transfer to MP3 my excellent record collection that has been melting, baking, fossilizing in the deep subconscious morass that is our garage ...whoops, editorial moment. Supposedly the sound of MP3 is questionable, to the fine-tuned ear, but I can't hear that well anyway, so pulling the usb turntable out of the box would be one step farther toward whittling collections and possessions.

The lament of giant fingers

I’ve been passed 2 Smart phones to play with, should I wish to get back on the tech train. All abooooooooard.  But ah, my fingers seem to belong to a giant man, not to me. Jolly Green Me.