Homer'sWorld

Quiche, Quiche Meringue! Has anybody seen, a quiche with celery green? Yes, a reference to one of my favorite B-52's songs.


Two quiches.

Richard and Roger hosted a small cocktail party last night and Vince and I attended. It was nice chatting with the guys, most of whom play naked pool volleyball in the summer. So strange to see everyone with their clothes on! A nice time was had.

Having a lazy morning. After a bowl of frosted flakes I went back and laid on my bed with Puff and Joey and patted their little heads. Mummy is in taking a little nap too. When she gets up we'll have to go have some sedate adventure.

Mummy and I watched High Noon last night, after Brady stopped by for a visit. We spent some time chatting about uplifting things like the price of coffins, cremation vs inhumation, and so on.

I'm not sure my mother liked the movie that much. I thought it was well done and relatively tame- if it was made today there would be a lot more blood and breasts. What struck me the most about the movie was how much a young Lloyd Bridges looked my father when he was young- maybe it was because they had the same hair cut.


My father, at the cabin in 1961.

I'll have to write about the cabin sometime.

I became a vegetarian in January 1983 and when I told my parents you'd think I told them I was gay or something. Oh wait, that was the next decade! Anyways, my father about died of a heart attack and my mother was convinced I was going to die from malnutrition or scabies or both.

I'd go home and my father would beg me to eat meat. If I cooked something, he'd always say, "Well, this would be good if only it had some meat in it." It didn't matter if it was fruit salad or a cake, he'd still say that. My mother would ask me if I was eating the right combination of proteins, convinced that I needed to eat rice A with bean B and wheat C to achieve a balanced diet. She got over that quickly, my father continued pestering me until he died of a heart attack caused by his plaque-encrusted arteries (thanks animal fats!).

Thanksgiving rapidly became my least favorite holiday. First you have to understand that I come from a family of awful cooks. My mother is willing to admit that she never liked cooking, except for that crock pot craze circa 1976. Second, holiday meals, it didn't matter which holiday, always consisted of:

- an overcooked turkey (frequently with the gizzard stuff forgotten inside)
- store-bought, boxed stuffing
- instant mashed potatoes and margarine
- store bought warm-up rolls
- Waldorff salad (diced apples, raisens, walnuts, marshmallows, Miracle Whip)
- canned string beans
- canned yams (sometimes)
- Grandma F's cranberry relish (made with strawberry Jello, the Jello company reportedly used the recipe in one of their cookbooks)
- store bought pumpkin or cherry pie with Cool Whip

The cranberry relish was the best thing. Too bad Jello is made from ground up animal bones!

This was standard for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Easter. Sometimes they had ham on Easter, boiled in the pressure cooker for an hour or two. Boiling is the main characteristic of Midwestern cuisine.

So now that I'm the cooking I make everything from scratch and have banished Miracle Whip and Cool Whip and whips in general from my house. Tomorrow I'll make Thanksgiving Lunch and I'll ask Mummy if everything tastes delicious and she'll say something like, "No, I really didn't care for XXXX. I'd just rather eat mashed potatoes." Sigh.

I'm running out of ideas for what to make Mummy for supper. If I ask her what she wants she'll say, "Oh, I don't know..." She is getting picky about what she will or won't eat too- tomatoes are pretty far down on the list. Licorice drops are pretty high.

Her blood sugar (she's diabetic) has improved since she's been here, sometimes it is too low. As I type this I had to remind her to take her insulin.

Otherwise, got a new cell phone today- the old one was completely, utterly basic. The new one has a camera and bunch of other junk. I need to program phone numbers in, which I'm not looking forward to.

Making a pumpkin pie tomorrow. I've become a wizard at making them.

Sunday morning at about 4 AM I was lying awake in bed (I'm a light sleeper and have mild insomnia) when I heard the screech of brakes and a loud bang. Instantly the lights went out. It was far enough away that I wasn't certain whether it was to the north or south, and by the time I had gotten up I could hear sirens. The lights were out for a couple of hours.

Today the newspaper reports that a 15-year-old girl was killed and the driver ran off, alcohol was involved.

It seems strange to think that something so awful could happen so close to my house. But in the last six months or so there have been two murders in my neighborhood- one last week.

All three events are probably alcohol and drug-related. I wish people had more common sense about that sort of thing.

I lied. But it wasn't on purpose. I was going to make a lemon meringue pie, even make the crust. But there was no corn starch so I had to make a banana cream pie instead and I used storebought crust because I was just plain lazy.


Banana Cream Pie.

I could have told you it was lemon meringue, because you can't tell from the picture that instead of thick lemony filling there is thick vanilla pudding lying over a layer of thinly sliced bananas. But like I mentioned previously, the truth always comes out. Especially since Vince has started a blog and he'll be having a piece of two (ohmigod, another notch! [pardon the obscurity there]).

In other weekend news, I've been reading books and entertaining Mummy. We went window shopping and I'm left with two choices for Holiday gift- a ravioli maker or a waffle iron. Brian pointed out that a waffle iron was almost a ravioli maker, except it wasn't. Helpful advise like this is appreciated.

So which would you prefer: waffle iron or ravioli maker...

Believe it or not, I have every intention of making a lemon meringue pie this weekend! I know, I know, everyone is just plain sick of me doing so, as well you should be. I mean, I should just change my blog name from "Homersworld" to "Lemon Meringue World"!!! But I won't let the opinions of one or two "people" detract me from making the biggest, most swirly meringues ever. Filled with thick, delicious lemon filling. Perhaps I'll even make the crust myself!!!


Sonoran cuarto reale.

In other news, I'm sitting at my desk doing scientific-type stuff. Today I soaked a couple of Sonoran quarter reale coins in cleaning stuff, trying to remove enough corrosion so that I could read their dates. One was minted in the 1890s, the other is illegible. This sort of earth-shattering research commonly happens at my desk. I am always thinking, thinking, thinking.

And so I lay in bed last night pondering wicked people. The world seems so full of down-right nasty folks nowadays. I try my hardest to be a good person, and generally I succeed. If you have read through this mess to this point, I'll level with you. I am a terrible liar and so I make a point of not lying. As Eve on Passions once so famously said (yes, I know I'm repeating this), "The truth will always come out!" So you'll never, ever see big whoppers of lies from me on here. Or even little whoppers of lies. Lies never, ever work because the truth does in fact come out. I well remember the aftermath of the playhouse fire in 1968. Lesson learned.

You may, in your journey through the internets, come across a pair of blogs that have recently said very nasty things about me. Apparently I make too many lemon meringue pies, among other intrinsically evil things. The "people" who write those blogs have many interesting things to say about me, I've learned much about my background and personality, things that surprised me and would doubtlessly surprise those who know me. The internet is an interesting place, that is another lesson I've learned.

Forrest's 29th birthday had a decidedly Mexican theme. His roommate Paul arranged for friends to meet at BK's, a Sonoran style restaurant. I was surprised at how good the food was.


Homer and Forrest.

Afterwards we retired to their estate and a pinata was smashed.


Forrest handles a big stick.

Cecelia had filled it with Mexican candy. I tried the coconut version, which was very good.


Tres leches cake.

One time Forrest and I tried to make a tres leches cake but it turned out nasty. In contrast, the one Cecelia purchased was very good.

Good time was had by all, that's the best kind of birthday party.

Redheads. How I adore them. Let me count the ways. Red hair, freckles, pale or tan. Brian's blog alerted me to the following perfect specimen:


Tommy Speer.

Too bad he's doing the nasty fighting stuff for Ultimate Fighting Championship. He should quit that stuff come to Tucson and help me make Thanksgiving dinner for my mother next week. Afterwards we could lie in bed and talk about how bloated we are from eating way too much mashed potatoes.

Arghh, speaking of Thanksgiving, my least favorite holiday of the year. I have to figure out what to make besides mashed potatoes. Mummy announced that she did not/would not go to anyone else's house for dinner. She is a bit of a loner (that's a lie, she's a big loner). So I get to make the two of us dinner. Menu so far:

Mashed potatoes
Vegetarian stuffing
Fresh string beans
Angel food cake with cranberry sauce

Not sure if I'll make anything else or not. Any ideas?

Fuck.

The first dirty word I learned was "bullshit." We were in the station wagon driving down our long driveway and my father said that word and I didn't know what it meant, and so I kept saying over and over again, "bullshit, bullshit, bullshit" as my father and mother tried to shush me and my father was reaching back into the backseat to swat me.

Later, my brother Bub (now an Amish pig farmer), taught me the word "fart," a word he learned while in kindergarten. It sounded bad back then, and to this day I don't like that word. I usually won't say it out loud. Pussy is another one of those nasty sounding words. I was recently shocked to hear "fart" being used on a sitcom. What has our country come to?

My father was a champion swearer. When he was angry, which happened a lot after he quit trucking and became a full-time dairy farmer in 1974, he would reel off a list of words. It was like a Lake Superior storm, the waves of curse words washing ashore and repeating and building up to a crescendo, said crescendo usually involving throwing something. "God dammit to fucking hell, motherfucking sonofabitch, sonabitchin motherfuckin goddammit to fucking hell." Over and over again. Punctuated by a wrench being thrown at the hay bailer or, once, a hammer thrown at me and Bub. The latter incident resulted in me walking out of the barn and going to the house, my father following me and cursing at me. My mother, brother, and I received more than our fair share of foul language directed at us. My mother looked up and asked what was the matter, as he screamed at me. To tell you the truth, I have no recollection of what set him off at particular time- my brother and I were washing the big milk tank and literally anything would make my father go beserk. When I was about 19, and home from college, my father was selling a cow and I was helping get it in his friemd Chum's trailer and Chum thought it would be funny to shock me with the electric cattle prod. My father was shocked, in turn, to hear the string of foul words explode out of my mouth as I told Chum exactly what I thought of him. "Where did you learn that?" he blurted out. "From you," was the answer. How could anyone be so dense?

Nowadays I swear for very specific reasons. This summer I told two co-workers, "I'm really fucking pissed off at you." That is the coarsest language I have ever used at work. I'm a very easy-going person, so everyone was shocked.

Whenever the Great Decider ruins my television viewing, I'm liable to say something like, "Shutthefuckup you fuckingfucker!" Over and over again, mostly so I don't have to hear his annoying fake Texan accent. There are other times when I swear, but this is a family-friendly blog (except for this fucking post), so I won't go into that in detail.

So, what is your favorite swear word?

Fuck Office Max and their shitty merchandise. First my study lamp light bulb burned out and guess what. It is impossible to remove and replace the bulb. The bulb is built right into the fricken lamp. Thats's totally green!

Just got back with a new keyboard and mouse and 1). it comes with a slotted keyboard plugin and a round mouse plugin. Do computers even come with the round plugins anymore? Of course they provide adaptors. Except the adaptor for the round one was missing. Even better, the keyboard was visibly used (scratch marks on the bottom of the mouse, the packaging was torn up), but packaged and sold regular price.

I HATE big fucking box stores. But what can you do- there aren't small office supply/computer stores in Tucson. They have all gone bye-bye. I won't shop at Circuit City because of their satanic hiring practices. I go to this Office Max because it is the closest, saves gas. But not anymore. Return keyboard and drive the extra distance to another big box of consumer crap.

It would be nice if they actually made stuff that didn't wear out after a year.

Because I work for a small company, we don't get minor holidays off. So while lots of other people are out honoring out nation's veterans by attending sales and parades, saluting, and decorating tombs of the unknown, I am sitting in my office honoring them by trying to makes numbers add up correctly.

Except the numbers don't want to add up the same when I check and I don't have a clue why that is the case. It is very annoying.

Also annoying, people who don't know the rules for charades and who don't know their alphabet. What's up with that?

Less annoying, the Goth couple on Amazing Race. I like them and the blonde women the best. Last night, Kynt the Goth guy, said about their next task, "I think is has something to do with sheep!" We laughed. A lot.

A busy weekend with Mummy. Several trips to the grocery store, Michael's Craft Store- where I bought a cookie press and a bunch of art kits to give to the local elementary, a visit with Karen, library, Indian Oven for lunch, cooking, and so on.


Mummy and Homer.

I'm concerned that she isn't getting enough exercise so I took her out to the Sweetwater Wetlands and we walked around the main pond. We saw some American coots and little yellow finches. I spotted what I thought was a kingfisher. By the end of the walk her legs were bothering her.

I've got a squash baking in the oven and I made a yoghurt/dill/cucumber salad. Tonight I'm going over to watch the Amazing Race with Abe and David G. We haven't done that in a couple of years!

What pisses me off lately?

- Racism. People who judge other people based on their ethnic origin and/or their skin color. What a bunch of petty bullshit.

- "Illegal immigration" talk about a crock of shit. In Arizona they are busy building a solid border fence right through endangered wildlife habitat. No environmental reviews. So low flying birds will fly right smack into that fence and be killed instantly. And larger animals, such as our occasional jaguar visitor, will be unable to cross the border.

- "War on Terror" what a barrel full of shit. It isn't a war- a war is declared on a government. The "war on terror" is a fight against a bunch of criminals. Of course, if you call it a war you can scare people. You can be sure there will be plenty more terror alerts next year, right before the election.

- The 2008 elections. Holy shit, we have to put up with this for another year? 14 more months of the Great Decider? And what then? Hillary or Rudy. Puke.

What doesn't piss me off?

- Cooking for my Mama.

- Looking forward to going to a party with Forrest.

- Cats!

So the new President of France comes to visit and George Bush has a fancy dinner at the White House. I looked at the invitation list. I guess only businessmen and their trophy wives get invited to the White House. Plus a Supreme Court Justice, a couple Senators, a Representative, and a Governor. And George Bush's sister.

Looking through the other invitation lists for similar dinners, you realize that George only likes to hang out with other businessmen. Funny, since he was such a crappy businessman himself.

The United States has lots of talented scientists, entertainers, and ordinary people. But apparently unless you are Kelsey Grammar or Elizabeth Hasselback, you don't get invited to the White House. I guess that is because most scientists and entertainers and about 70 percent of the rest of the country don't really care for the Bushes anymore. I really wish the bloody hands woman, the one who charmed Condi Rice a few weeks back, would have dinner with Laura and Jenna and Barb Jr.

Now if I were president I would have a really fun state dinner. We'd have veggie hotdogs and tater tots, lemon meringue pie for desserts. Gwen Stefani and Cristina Aguilera would wiggle around singing during the dessert. Afterwards we'd made plastic bead mosaics and I'd play spin the bottle with Matthew Foxx and Will Smith. So much more fun than sitting next to the Chairman of FedEx.

Life is kinda dull right now, I'm entertaining Mummy and that involves cooking more and taking her on errands. I have to think of something to do this weekend.

Elsewhere, I have been watching one of the fake bloggers do his crap. Attention getting stuff involving someone's death, a misunderstanding of mourning customs, fake comments attempting to prove fake events, and so on. Honestly, my life can be dull but not dull enough to write a pack 'o lies and then have to delete them over and over again when someone exposes you.

I wish someone would expose themselves to me, speaking of. Having Mummy here has sharply curtailed my internet educational pursuits.

Joey likes Nature, she found tonight's episode about wolves fascinating.



Joey believes all cats should watch educational programming, instead of litter box operas and catnipcoms. Of course, Puff and Mama just want to want cartoons instead.

I've discovered that my mother loves this sitcom, "Two and a half men." That is kinda shocking. She used to make fun of me for watching Lost, except she got hooked on that show too.

Anyways, busy day today- tooth repaired, computer work, chocolate, insurance office (my agent is so smart he intimidates me), make Mummy dinner (leftover veggie lasagna), helped someone out with a genealogy problem. At work a co-worker yelled at me, shocking everyone else, since it was over something I had no control over, at all (some construction workers never showed up). I pretended it didn't bother me, but it actually did.

I wish I didn't have such thin skin over little things like that, but I do. Some things don't change.

The annual All Soul's Day Procession was tonight. Brian, unfortunately, couldn't come down from Phoenix, he was feeling under the weather.


A Victorian couple.

I caught sight of Forrest and walked with him along the route. It seemed quieter this year, but perhaps that was because we were very close to the beginning of the procession.


Miss Coney Island 1928.

Lots of imaginative costumes and altars. A pair of Born-Agains with a bullhorn protesting the event. No one was listening to his gibberish.


Andy and Adam.

I'm always amazed at how small town Tucson can be. I saw a zillion people I knew at the event.

At home, Mummy is reading a mystery book. I made lasagna and two pumpkin pies today (one is for Vince). I asked Mummy if it was best she'd ever had and she said, "No." I laughed. When I told Forrest that story he commented that I can be very blunt too.

My mother missed her plane Minneapolis so I have to go back to the airport and pick her up this afternoon. She refuses to ride on one of the carts and stopped for something to eat. Her bag came through and I was surprised at how little she packed for a two month stay. I may end up taking her cloth shopping- whether she likes it or not (she hates buying clothes). Especially because we'll probably get invited to a couple of holiday events and I really don't want to show up with Mummy wearing her favorite ratty jeans.

I almost went out last night, to sow a few oats, but stayed home instead. Chas called me up and we discussed life in North Carolina. It seems 2007 was the year of meeting people from that fine state.

Trying to figure out what to make for dinner tonight. Any suggestions? [vegetarian ones, please!]

Normally I have dozens of kids chanting "Trick or Treat" outside my door. Last night, perhaps 10 showed up. I have a big bowl of candy left over, mostly stuff I don't care for.


New shirt.

The house is ready for my mother's arrival on Saturday. Just some yardwork to do, and everything is done.

Let's try it for the third time. A week ago I had the corner of one of my front upper incisors bonded- it had chipped off sometime in the past year. On Friday I was sitting at my desk and I heard a click and then proceeded to spit out the bonded section. Today I returned to the dentist at 12:30 and they replaced it. At approximately 4:40 it came off again.

I guess I'm no good at bondage.

I bought a red striped slip cover for the $800 scratching post (my couch) today. Also flannel sheets for my bed and a toilet brush and a first aid kit. I never buy stuff like that, but Mummy is coming Saturday and a few purchases were in order.

Sandy is coming too, in early December. I'm excited to have him here and I'm going to schedule a Holiday Tree decorating get together for either the 7th or 8th of December and invite a handful of people over. I've decided not to have the huge Holiday Party this year- and to tell you the truth, it is a relief.

Sitting here with acid reflux tonight. Burp! Nasty. If you can, don't get a hiatal hernia. Just advising.

Instead of going to Vancouver, I decided to stay in Tucson. For several reasons. On Friday I sat in bed and read the last Harry Potter book, spending half the time confused about various minor characters and plot information from prior books. Vince's friend Eric brought me a pumpkin he had raised and so I immediately made a pair of pies.

Yesterday was Ray's annual Halloween party. I was Homer Erectus, the caveman. I wore the same costume in 2003, but was 20 pounds lighter. Still, it gets a lot of attention. Loin cloth!

Zombie Forrest.


Hepatitis Bee.


Super Flu.


Flash, Robin Hood, and a Nurse.


Another Nurse.

Nurses, Doctors, and Patients were popular costumes this year.

Today involves making a birthday cake for Patrick- white cake with white frosting.

And now for something different.

Are you dressing up for Halloween? If so, what is your costume going to be?

Mollie had started to have health problems in the last four months or so. It started with difficulty in walking- she was losing strength in her back legs. Eventually I had to block off the kitchen, study, and my bedroom because she would fall down on the wood and tile floors. The amount of food she ate lessened and she lost weight. Mollie often got lost and stood in the corner until I tapped on her shoulder. She stopped scratching on the door to be let back in. A spot on her back became infected and it took forever to heal, her skin was so thin. Then she started coughing, loud, long coughing spells.

On Monday her face and neck started to swell up and by yesterday morning I had to remove her collar it was so huge. I took her to the vet and they examined her, identified a heart murmur, and answered my questions. Her quality of life had deteriorated dramatically. Whatever measures they took would not help her stand or walk better. The swelling suggested something was very seriously wrong. She was probably in pain and was just not expressing it well. At fifteen and a half, her body was worn out.

I've never had to make this sort of decision before. My other two dogs died when I was away at school. My three cats are just entering middle age and are very healthy. There were some things that Mollie still liked to do- wander slowly through the yard, eat her favorite treats. But most of the time she sat on her bed and coughed up crud. The vet and her assistant agreed that now was the time to go, before she got worse off.

I was too chicken to stay. I would have been a blubbering mess. When I got home last night I had a little cry. Later I sat at my desk and once I wondered why I didn't hear her toenails clicking as she walked around. Then I remembered.

I'll miss her.

Les and Forrest were very disappointed that Buster wasn't blowing up balloons.


Les and Forrest.

We were out at the Venture for their Levi & Leather party. I wore my overalls. Guys like guys in overalls. Buster was wearing ass-less chaps.


Homer and Buster.

Buster was very friendly and hasn't let success go to his head. At times the crowd got very frisky. There was an almost unfortunate accident with a hook coming loose, but no one was injured.


Buster and the whipper-snapper.

Les and I are having a fun time together, recalling our obnoxious college days. I believe he is enjoying the small town atmosphere of Tucson. He also liked the pumpkin pie I made him.

Forrest and I drove down to Hereford to see Ray and Cobban. They live in the country and at night there are three million stars in the sky over their house. We hung out and talked and Ray made a lovely dinner and we ate the pumpkin pie I had made, the one where I used molasses instead of brown sugar and it tasted less sweet and was very nice.


Yours truly and the hosts, Cobban and Ray.

I practiced holding my camera at arm's length and taking self portraits. It is amazing how many different expressions I can make.


Parker the cat was not harmed during the taking of this picture.

The guys' cat Parker came out of hiding to visit. He is very big and has to live indoors because the coyotes would think he was delicious. We discussed expensive vet bills and animal health for some few minutes.


Homer and Forrest say, "It's fun to pump gas at midnight."

On the way back to Tucson I actually felt cold. Forrest and I talked and talked and talked. I got into bed at 12:45 and of course I woke up at the usual time (6 AM). Joey waits impatiently for me to have my bowl of cereal. If I eat it slow she meows because she wants that little lick of milk at the very end, even though it isn't good for her.

I was surprised to see that some of the furniture at IKEA looked less college dorm-like, although most of it was still cheap, veneer stuff. Many of the display pieces were pootly put together and I watched with amusement as a pair of gay guys tried to get a wardrobe door to close correctly. The housewares are always more inviting. I bought a garlic press and paper napkins and a fish-shaped rug for my bathroom.

I was up in Phoenix for the day for work. I was on the road at 4:40 AM. As I got near that mighty city I realized I could smell its mighty pollution, which is so dense you can't see the mountains that surround it. Tucson is very clean, in contrast.

Nothing exciting to report about work. I returned home, arriving at 5:30 PM and promptly started to clean house. My college roommate Les is coming on Friday. We are going to be obnoxious, rest assured. He's very excited about the Leather & Levi weekend that's happening. I hope he remembered to bring his chaps.

Ben Cohen!


I wonder if he is any good at food styling and dusting?

Poltergeist II. We returned to the excavation and removed the second burial. It was an adult male, the osteologists will examine the remains later this week to determine the age at death. He lay in a coffin painted red with dozens of the diamond-shaped decorations on the sides and a few on the lid. I was able to determine that there were originally three rows. A small crucifix was at the foot of the coffin, and we also found 5 handles (the sixth had apparently broken off as the coffin was being placed in the grave, we found a part of it underneath the body).

The man was wearing an undershirt, a shirt or jacket, and pants (as indicated by the various kinds of buttons). No shoes. They didn't check his pockets and in his left pants pocket held a coin purse and his right pocket had a hard-rubber comb and three very corroded silver coins. This was very unusual- it suggests the man was buried in the pants he died in.

I have lots of paperwork to complete tomorrow. Ryan asked about photography. Before we remove burials we have to have a permit from the state museum here. Usually photography does not take place on skeletal remains because many Native American groups object to such photography, thinking it is disrespectful of the dead. Instead of photography we carefully draw the remains on graph paper, adding in the location of buttons, coffin hardware, and whatever else we find.

An interesting couple of days, that's for sure.

I didn't have much pride for Gay Pride this year. Instead I lay in bed with a mild cold most of the day. I shouldn't have said "I haven't been sick in a long time" on Friday.


I picked up the chair for my mother and have it in her spot. She better like it!

Mummy's chair.

Today I'm feeling better and I made a Sweet Onion Quiche.

Quiche Homere.

It was rather bland (perhaps because of my runny nose) so I ate it with hot sauce. I think I'm going to have another nap now.

Poltergeist. Tucson, like many communities, has built over its historic cemeteries. There are three in the downtown area, dating between 1776 and 1909. One is beneath a street, another is currently being excavated for a new courthouse, and a third is in a residential neighborhood.

An acquaintance of mine lives in that neighborhood, which was the cemetery for Tucson between 1875 and 1909. Some businessmen decided the land was too close to town and should be developed, so they built a new cemetery further away from downtown, and arranged to get ownership of the land. They claimed the bodies were all moved, but since the 1940s a dozen have been found. My guess, perhaps 10 percent of the burials were actually dug up, and it is probable that only the skull and the larger bones were removed. I told my friend that his property probably had many burials (it is in the Catholic section, which had about 4,500). Last week a sinkhole opened up and when he poked a shovel in, he hit a coffin and some bones.

Lucky for him, it was actually in the city right-of-way, and he wasn't lagally responsible for their removal (they had to be moved because the right-of-way is where all utilities are placed). I went out with two other archaeologists and excavated the burial. It was a 3-or-4-year-old child, in a shouldered coffin (the kind that is wider at the shoulders). The coffin was decorated with diamond-shaped brass appliques, with a crucifix and lamb applique on the front (lambs symbolize children), zinc carrying handles, and a cross-shaped handle to lift the lid up and some rusted iron items that are probably hinges. The child was wearing a dress that was buttoned up the back, and a bundle of clothes were next to the feet (the buttons of which were all that was left)- perhaps the clothing of the child, or perhaps something added to kept the body from sliding down to that end of the coffin when it was being moved.

We finished around 1 PM and as I was cleaning the last remnants of the coffin wood up I noticed the ground was soft, so I removed some more dirt and another skull appeared below. On Monday we will remove that burial.

After we examine the remains and artifacts the two burials will be reburied in the local Catholic cemetery in a special vault with other remains found by archaeologists.

This isn't a typical work day for me.

Post 1400. Mummy is coming November 3rd for two months. I went shopping for a chair for her today- the one she liked to sit on broke when a certain bestfriend sat on it. Four furniture stores- ohmigod did people just puke on the upholstery and slap it on? What's up with five different fabrics on one chair? I purchased a Mission style dining room chair with arms- something that will be easy for Mummy to get in and out of. Of course I spent more than I wanted, but only the best for my mother.

Picture tomorrow (it is still at the store).

I'm trying to eat more vegetables. Tonight Mexican squash. Salads for lunch. I get so hungry in between meals. Someone should just taser me when I walk towards the cookie drawer at work.

Going to Vancouver at the end of the month, I'll be in the city for I think three days. Maybe I'll have lunch with one of my regular readers, Art?

Trader Joe's is selling miniature pumpkins- about seven or eight inches tall. So I bought one and made a pumpkin pie last night.


Sliced pumpkin, waiting to roast.

It came out alright, despite the fact I had run out of cinnamon and the brown sugar was rock hard.


I used a store bought crust, though.

This is the first time I made a pumpkin pie from a real pumpkin. It tastes very good- I had it for breakfast.

I really need to force myself to learn how to make pie crust. Part of the reason I dread doing so is my small kitchen- I have to roll the dough on my table and I end up with a mess of flour everywhere. If I ever sell my house my next kitchen will be huge, have a dishwasher, and a nice counter space to do things on.

Fruity. I had the most excellent peach pie ever on Sunday night. I think my next culinary exercise will be a fruit pie.

What kind should I make?

So the weather is really nice and sitting inside is driving me crazy.


Click on me!

A coyote walked by the window at work and stared at me. I'm sure it was busy thinking about how dumb the humans are for being inside on a perfectly lovely Monday. Luckily, I should be out one day this week digging up something interesting.

So far today:

- I took some chocolates to my friend Karen
- I bought three shirts at J.C. Penneys
- I bought a striped rug for my living room, it makes the room much brighter
- the neighbor's six-or-seven-year-old girl was playing outside with an oversized devil's trident and as I waved at her she flipped me off

I may be wrong, but apparently I am racist, sexist, and classist for using the phrase "well-to-do white men." This was a surprise to me.

Last time I checked, "well-to-do white men" were still running most of the country. I'll use an outdated CNN story from 2003 to point out that at that time 40 of the 100 US senators were millionaires, somewhere between 35 to 37 of whom were white males. Times are changing, thankfully. Today, in 2007, there are 16 women, 2 Asian-American males, 2 Hispanic males, and 1 African-American male in the Senate. And 79 white men.

There are also currently 8 women CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. And 492 men. In 2006, four of those men were African-American. I didn't bother to check the number of other minority males, but I assume that many if not most of those 488 men are white.

The top echelon of political and business leaders in our country are mostly rich, white men. I admit not knowing the financial status of certain political commentators, and perhaps it was in poor taste to deem them "well-to-do." I am deeply flawed in this regard.

Last time I checked poor and middle-class people had very little power in this country. Less power in recent days because a certain unnamed political party, the leading politicians of which repeatedly refuse to attend minority-sponsored debates or meetings, have also developed elaborate methods for kicking poor and/or minority voters off of voter rolls in places like Florida and Ohio. This, of course, has influenced elections and helped maintain the status quo for certain people, mostly rich white men.

Am I racist? I was taught by my mother to view people as individuals. I have never discriminated against anyone based on their skin color, as least as far as I can tell. Pointing out that white people have more decision-making power than people-of-color is not a racist notion.

Am I sexist? Pointing out the unfortunate, that men have more political power than women is not a sexist action.

Am I classist? Yes, I will admit to a suspicion of wealthy individuals. I grew up in a relatively poor household. We were never hungry, but there was no money for luxuries, you know, those little things like visits to the doctor or the dentist.

I knew we were poor but I didn't know how poor until I went away to college with my one pair of shoes and a single suitcase. What an eye-opener to meet other students and learn about their lifestyles, so different from my own! I remember being told by someone (a well-to-do white male) that I didn't deserve to be attending the University of Michigan because I was there on financial aid. A few other, similar incidents tainted my impressions of rich people. I know I should just get over this and not judge people based upon their wealth. But wealthy people do have a lot of power in this country, and they have often used that power to make life more difficult to those who don't meet their criteria of what a good person is. Currently, that criteria excludes gays/lesbians/bisexuals and especially those darned transgenders.

This is, of course, a generalization. There are many fine wealthy people who would not dream of discriminating against others. It's too bad that there are also a lot of wealthy people who dream of discriminating against others.

What an endless ramble of thoughts! But I guess being called anything-ist disturbs me, because I try to be a good person, as much as I can. I try to do everything I can to make sure that everyone has the chance to live a good life.

I'll state this again, excluding transgender people from civil rights legislation that includes other sexual minorities is wrong. Nothing I have read, including the "tiny steps for now" and "transvestites were there at Stonewall, not transgender!" arguments have changed my mind.

At work today:

- computer issues continue, but at least I can use the printer.
- one of the computer guys isn't here because he got bit (twice!) by a rattlesnake last night.
- I've seen a pair of Arizona woodpeckers, some sort of yellow finch, butterflies, and little lizards outside my window so far this morning. The cottontails sit out there in the afternoon.
- I wore gender appropriate clothing to work.
- only 5.5 hours till I can go home.

Sometimes I am embarrassed by the loud-mouthed gays who claim to be our leaders. John Aravosis is one example. Today he wrote an opinion piece basically stating that transgender people should not be included in the ENDA legislation that is winding its way through Congress to meet up with ClusterFuck's veto pen. Let me channel John:

"I don't understand transgender folks. I don't want to sit next to them on the bus. They should have their own bus, even though we are going on the same way and people watching us often confuse us. Who let them on the bus anyways? They should get off the bus and shut the fuck up. If you disagree with me you are an insolent asshole. Because no one should ever question me. I used to work in Congress so I know better than you. Especially better than transgender people. None of whom I have ever had a conversation with. Who I can not emphasize with. Since they only recently got on the bus, they should be the first ones thrown off to make the politicians happy. They will really love us if we hate the transgender bus riders as much as they do."

Andrew Sullivan apparently agrees with Aravosis.

Does this surprise me? No, not really. Couple of well-to-do white men. Enough said there.

People who discriminate against gays/lesbians/bisexuals are not going to differentiate between this group and transgender folks. Excluding them from civil rights protections just makes them THE MOST HATED group. You see, G/L/B are awful folks, really, but they aren't as bad as those Ts.

Which is precisely why transexual people, as a sexual minority, should be included.

The view from my window at work. I finished a couple of reports today, and felt productive.


Embalming fluid bottles.

Out in the exterior walkway a dazed lizard, who had been trapped in our library for a week, ran around.


Collared lizard.

I bent down and picked it up, planning to move it to a better place. On the way there Beth wanted to see it and it promptly grabbed her finger with its mouth. And wouldn't let go. Apparently it pinched.


Click to make a bigger lizard.

I see a lot of wildlife out my window at work- cottontail rabbits, ground squirrels, lizards, mourning doves, hawks, and the occasional coyote. The nearby Rillito creekbed serves as a wildlife corridor- even with the increased development I expect I'll still see animals.

Brian came down from his ghetto hood in Phoenix and we went to The Grill where I had the usual (spinach ravioli in pink herbed sauce and a salad with thousand island dressing). It was delicious and I only ate one of Brian's tater tots.

Afterwards we went to the Josh Rouse concert at Club Congress. He has a lovely voice and seemed to be enjoying singing in Tucson.

I did all my chores (include mopping!) yesterday so this morning I went over to Patrick & Brady's to feed Kitty Catt and then settled down to watch a little telly. I got sucked into Top Chef and was strangely enamored with mohawked Dale, who could be my Top Chef any time he wanted, as long as he made me vegetarian meals.

Attention conservative politicians and religious extremists. Among the disgusting, perverted things I have done in the last 24 hours:

- mopped the floors
- installed new toilet float
- gave a site tour to a City councilwoman
- watched Dr. Who on Brady's enormous 42-inch-wide telly
- cleaned up Mollie's accidental mess in the living room (this was the disgusting thing)
- considered giving money to Barack Obama (that's the perverted thing)
- planned a trip to the craft store

I know, I know. Many people would think that I spend all of my spare time tapping toes or sending nasty messages to teenagers, but really, that only happens if you are a Republican.

Things I like about Tucson:

- the weather. I don't really mind the super hot days (I think that is because I grew up in northern Michigan).

- the relaxed attitude toward clothing. No one cares that I wear sandals and socks- at the same time!

- my house, which I purchased for $85.5 k in 1999. It could use some upgrades (I hate my bathroom) but will be paid off in 10 years.

- my friends.

- my job.

- the fact that the desert is only about 750 ft from my front door.

I don't usually put pictures of shit on my blog. But look, there's Mr. Frowning Pile-o-Shit in the picture below, otherwise known as General Peter Pace.


Nasty person, inside and out.

We are at war! So we are supposed to be all patriotic and say only nice things about the military. It's too bad that General Pace can't stop saying nasty things about soldiers who happen to be gay or lesbian: "Are there wonderful Americans who happen to be homosexual serving in the military? Yes. We need to be very precise then, about what I said wearing my stars and being very conscious of it. And that is, very simply, that we should respect those who want to serve the nation but not through the law of the land, condone activity that, in my upbringing, is counter to God's law."

So let me be unpatriotic and note that the United States military has killed thousands of innocent men, women, and children in Iraq since 2003. Many thousands. Sometimes on purpose ("Let's bomb that restaurant because Saddam might be inside!"), sometimes sorta on purpose ("Let's shoot at a bunch of children in Haditha to avenge the death of a fellow soldier!" and sometimes by accident ("Oops!).

Isn't killing people a major no-no for Christians? As I recall, noting that I've never actually read the entire Bible because basically I'm not into fairy tales and myths, the sixth Commandment is something like "Thou shall not kill/murder/shoot carloads of children/ etc, etc."

It must be really nice to feel so fucking morally superior to other people. But then shit is always unpleasant stuff and its much nicer when you can't see or smell it.

Annoying things about Tucson:

- road construction everywhere. It takes me an extra 15 minutes to drive the 7.5 miles home from work in the afternoon.

- lack of direct flights. To get to most places you have to switch planes at some other airport. This makes flying anywhere a full day event.

- fall weather makes me stir crazy. And by this time my vacation time is mostly gone.

- don't get me started on the possibility of finding a bf!

Fall. Arrived this week, so sudden I had forgotten what it was like to feel "cold."


Scruffy.

Makes me want to lie in bed and look out the French doors and listen to the birds chatting. But instead I go to work and struggle with the computer and wonder why the computer guy doesn't come by and fix it. But that is a question involving faith and mystery and those can never be answered to anybody's satisfaction.

Things I didn't know, part 1: "Cupcakes are portable, cute and relatively inexpensive. They are also “feminine and girlie,” Ms. Kramer Bussel said, so the majority of cupcake bakers and fans are women." So sayeth the New York Times.

Ms. Kramer Bussel didn't attend my birthday cupcake party last week (wasn't invited, I'm guessing). She is all jealous or something, and decided to say spiteful things. I am not a woman (not that there is anything wrong with being a woman!) and yet I love me some cupcakes with frosting mounded on top. I like peeling the paper away (don't care for the more manly aluminum, that stuff is nasty if you get some in your mouth) and cramming as much of the cupcake in my mouth as possible. With my current bushy beard, that tends to make a terrible, yet masculine mess.

I remember taking cupcakes to kintergarden for my 6th birthday. My mother had put little plastic animals on each and I picked the one with the llama. Since Pamela wasn't there, I got a second cupcake (the one with the tiger). I can still see those plastic animals in my head. I wish I still had them.

I'm going to have a craft party sometime in the next few weeks. Because I can! You know, it's all about creating good self esteem. Lots of praise and finding good in other people. And in the end, when the guests leave with their creations, something to remember the event by.

So anyways, I think I'll have a "Make your own sandwich" spread and a selection of chips- you know, the fancy ones at Trader Joe's made from panda breasts and artichoke hearts. Finger food type things.

Problem: what sort of dessert should I make???? Cake is messy to eat, so is pie. Cookies don't seem like a real dessert. Suggestions for a dessert that you can pick up and eat with your fingers???

Panda picture groupie!


A red panda at the Chengdu Research Base Of Giant Panda Breeding on September 19, 2007 in Chengdu, China (photo by Paul Gilham).

Better watch out, they'll Eat Your Face!



I hope Miranda didn't get killed by vicious pandas! I noticed that her blog was deleted and I'm really fearful for her safety!!!

So 14 months or so until the election and I'm already so over it. I wonder whether Karl Rove is hunkered down in his bunker thinking of nasty things to say about the Democrats.

Speaking of comments, I rarely edit them. In the past I have removed racist or body fascist comments. I've edited comments to remove my last name since I'd rather people Googling me find my archaeological or genealogical materials first. You get 1,430 hits when you Google my name in quotes. When you just Google "Homer" I'm number 15. That's almost worth an exclamation point. !

I've removed a picture from my blog at the request of the person in the picture (he didn't want a shirtless pic of himself floating around the net). I removed a picture and text about a religious shrine, at the request of a friend who thought I didn't understand the solemnity of the shrine (I admit, I didn't).

I recently did not remove a post when someone asked me to, because the reasons they provided were untruthful, thereby proving the point I was making.

I don't make a big practice of editing or removing comments, but once in a great while it is necessary. I also do not restrict who comments, although I did ban someone once who made a threatening statement towards me.

This dull as dirt post is made possible by the chocolate cupcake I just ate.

Baboquivari



Yesterday I traveled out to the Tohono O'odham Nation to attend a meeting at their new cultural center and museum. Behind the museum the jagged Baboquivari Peak, where I'itoi, the Elder Brother who brought the O'odham ancestors to this land and lives in a cave, was visible. Hawks, vultures, and crows were gliding about in the strong winds blowing yesterday. Nice way to spend a Monday.

44 cupcakes, one for each year.


Patrick's lemon and chocolate cupcakes.


44th birthday self-portrait.

Thank you Patrick, Brady, Jeffrey, Forrest, and Tina for making me feel special.

Today's adventure. Locking myself out of the house. And leaving my cell phone inside too. I checked all three doors. Yes, they were locked. I wondered about the small bathroom window, and was able to push it open the rest of the way. It is 10 inches wide and about 2 ft tall. I propped the stepladder up against the wall and was able to go through, feet first, on my second attempt. I felt like a total idiot.

I didn't watch President Clusterfuck's speechifying last night because there weren't enough buckets lying around to collect all the vomit that would have been flying around.

Instead I thought about my upcoming birthday (Sunday!, 44!) and wished I looked forward to that day like I did when I was a child.

Instead, I'm starting to realize that even the guys my age mostly want 20 or 30-somethings. Brian and I laugh at many of the personal ads we come across online (example: ONLY CONTACT ME IF YOU ARE DEAF!), but it is mildly depressing that so many 40-something men want to date other men young enough to be their son.

And so on. When I was a young son my Mama would give us $5 on our birthday so we could pick out our own present. That saved her from having to figure out what we wanted. I mostly got Breyer horses, which were the right size for GI Joe to ride around on. Later it switched to books about Pompeii. Britney Spears hadn't been invented yet, so I didn't have to worry about purchasing her latest CD, which also hadn't been invented yet.

This year, no plans for the 44th anniversary of me being cut out of my mother. Maybe someone will surprise me (hint:Brady).

Up early so I could drive over to the old fort and finish the mapping we are doing. The fort was established in 1873, abandoned by the military in 1891, and the recently acquired part was used as a tuberculosis sanitorium from about 1908 to the 1940s.


Kitchen ruins.

The city and county recently purchased the last portion of the fort in private hands, and I've been preparing a report on the history of this portion.

In the afternoon Forrest called and we went to La Indita for dinner.


Forrest at night.

Afterwards we wandered up and down 4th Avenue and looked at tied dyed t-shirts at the hippy store. At the thrift store the records were too pricey, I wish I had a record player.

We sat outside the bar and watched the ants try to drag too-big bugs into their tiny hole. They just never wanted to give up. Silly little ants.

Potatoes. It is starting to cool down here in Tucson and I can cook again. I made roasted baby potatoes the other day. I could eat potatoes all the time. I like them mashed with lots of butter. I love me some tater tots. French fries! Least favorite- boiled.

What is your favorite way of making potatoes?

This blog entry is paid for by the State of Idaho and the Toe Tapping Association of Boise.

Vince's carrot cake birthday cake came out very well. I just had a thin slice for breakfast.


Slicing the cake.

Yesterday I sneezed a couple of times and a co-worker asked if I was sick. Nope, I'm healthy as can be. Except I woke up with a sore throat that is getting sorer and now I'm getting a tad feverish. Tres annoying.

So I'm staying home, maybe I'll watch some stories on the telly. Usually when I get sick I clean house (two unpleasant things at once!). But the house is mostly clean so instead I'll probably lie in bed and play with the cats.

Today's interesting fact. Barack Obama is my seventh cousin. Our common ancestors begin with James Welborn and Mary Isabelle Teague.

Later. TJ asked me to look up his family. Turns out he is a distant cousin of an ex-bf of mine.

My best friend Les is coming to visit the weekend of October 19th. He'll be super pleased to know that it is Tucson Leather/Levi Weekend. Les, please remember to bring your leather codpiece and that spiked collar, you know, the one your mom gave you back in '89. The invitation also says there will be a "hanky Flagging Party" and that we are to "Ask a Tucson Leather Committee Member for a Hanky Code."

Buster the Balloon fetishist will also be there and maybe Les and I will get a little liquored up and participate in one of his ballon blowing-up contests. What happens in Tucson, stays in Tucson! Except they videotape it and sell it to other balloon porn fetishists. I'm pretty sure Les has never been in a porn movie, but there is that weekend back in 1992 that he doesn't remember.

It is, of course, a charity event. The $3.00 donation goes to a pet charity. This afternoon when I stopped by the Venture there were two cute dogs wandering around the patio, one of whom came over for some head-patting.

Don't forget your Hanky, Les!

I forgot the golden raisins for Vince's birthday cake. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I've never made a carrot cake before, Brian was kind enough to find me a recipe since the Cake Bible didn't have the right one. I'll be sure to take a picture, but where's that food stylist bf? You know the one with the mad camera skills.

Otherwise a low key day, the highlight of which was a trip to the pet store to buy kitty litter. I know, I know. Life in Tucson is pretty superb.

Some fuckin' idiot wrote last week that gay blogging would be dead in a year. Yeah. Right. I had to laugh about that. Why is it that certain people get so melodramatic when they quit blogging? Just because they quit, I guess they want everyone else to quit too. So sorry.

I'll still be baking cakes, hanging out with my friends, and occasionally writing about by job in September 2008. I like being able to see what I was doing on this day in past years(in 2003, finding out that an ex had cheated on me while we were together! lol). And if people want to read about it, well, good for them. Maybe someday I'll quit, but I guess I'll have to find a good reason to do so.

Beard Friday.

When I'm not busy telling little children that the Easter Bunny isn't real, I'm busy taking care of old Mollie, whose health is slowly failing.

Blue door self beardtrait.

She's having difficulty walking and has lost strength in her back legs. My house has mostly wood or tile floors, and she can't stand on those anymore, her legs slip apart. So nows she's restricted to the living room, which has a rug, and has regained much of her agility. Still, she's about 15 1/2 years old and that's a lot for a hound dog.

I've never had to deal with an elderly pet before. My dogs (Pouncer and Curley) got old and passed on while I was in college. So this is all a little strange for me, wondering whether I'll know if it is time to call the vet.

In other news, some people have complained about the panda entry on their blogs. I've been accused of being a nasty person. Well, whatthefuckever. I'm clever enough, I guess, to make multiple blogs and comment back and forth on them. I just don't see the point. As an exercise in creative writing, I can see that a bored person might get into that. I guess these individuals have a lot of energy invested in their various blogs, because they go bonkers when someone points out a factual inconsistency or a borrowed photograph. Then there are long, convulated explanations followed by altered entries and deletions. And while this is happening the multiple personalities of the blogger are busy calling other people nasty names. Whatthefuckever.

What surprises me are the people who believe that "if it's on the internet, it's real." And who fail to distinguish between a chunk of computer memory and a real, living person. I feel like asking them, "Is it possible to hurt the feelings of a fictional character?" And what about the real people who have interacted with these fakes? Or listened to their medical advice? Or been called nasty names by one of their personas? At this point, my advice is believe what you want. The Easter Bunny is, in fact, real.

I'm trying to figure things out and sometimes feelings overpower common sense. It's one of those cryptic entries, and you know, when I go back and read the old ones I usually have no idea what they are about.

So I think I'll just say I wish things were different.

Post 1369. Patrick sent me an ITunes gift certificate (thanks!). Any suggestions on what I should download?

So what's the difference between being gay and being homosexual? In my mind homosexuals are people who desire sexual relations with someone of the same sex. There are certainly a lot of 'em out there. I used to think the 10 percent figure was maybe a little high, but nowadays, not so sure. There are an awful lot of married men on Craigslist looking for away-from-home loving.

The thing is, I'm not so sure I would call those guys gay. In my mind, perched up inside my cranium with its somewhat oversized inion, being gay means being open about yourself to your friends, family, and the people who happen to come across your blog. It boils down to being comfortable in your own skin. For me, I went from being a closet-case homosexual to being gay at age 21. Life got so much better.

It's unfortunate that there are tortured people like Senator Craig, never quite able to come to grips with the feelings they have inside. Craig said at his news conference, "I am not gay," and I believe him. Of course, he could not truthfully say "I'm not a homosexual," because as far as I know, there aren't many truly straight guys into sucking cocks.

But of course, I could be completely wrong about that.

Brian came from Phoenix and brought three gifts. It was like Christmas but without the myrrh. Instead I am now the owner of the Cake Bible and I will soon be making a cake from it.


Indian lunch.

We had Indian food for lunch. I love me some samosas. With that sweet tamarind/plum sauce.


Homer and Brian at the sewage treatment facility.

Afterwards I took Brian to a Qwik Stop. Why do they mispell Quike? We then went to the Sweetwater Wetlands to commune with nature and sewer smells. At one point he asked me if we should be walking down a certain path because the vegetation was growing so wildly. It was exciting. We saw a cinnamon teal and some turtles. Actually, the big surprise was to see some native fishes swimming around- that was the first time I've seen fish there.


Cobban.

In the afternoon Ray and Cobban came up and we went to karoake at IBTs. It was wretched. We then journeyed over to Venture Inn.


Homer and Ray practice tapping our feet.

We sat with Justin and Kevin and talked about our fetishes (redhead!). And there was a very cute redhead there.

This morning I'm making mac & cheese before I make a cake. I think I'll take a nap first to celebrate Labor Day.