Homer'sWorld

At home with a cold. Yesterday was the worst. No today is. Tomorrow I should be feeling almost back to normal. I hope. Tired of the annoying symptoms. Sneeze! At least the cats are enjoying the extra attention.

Credit card answer: C Arghh, so I had to run around this morning and find some dollars to prevent checks from going bounce-bounce-bounce. Where's my sugar daddy?

Apparently I'm an idiot. I realized this morning that my credit card bill was going to be late (again) so I decided to pay via online banking. At the moment it would appear that 1). I was unsuccessful or 2). that I paid it and it hasn't shown up yet or 3). that I paid it twice and it hasn't shown up yet. In any case, I have come to the conclusion that I need to pay more attention when that damn bill comes. However, I have also noticed that the bill is a day "late" no matter how long (a week, ten days) after it is mailed. I 'spose that it is a nice way for the credit card company to make extra money by charging a "late" fee.

In other news, someone recently asked me what personality flaws I had because I was still single. How does one adequately answer that sort of question? It has been eating at me a little since, because being single isn't what I really want. I mean, lonely nights spent croqueting baby blankets and watching 1940s romantic comedies is nice and all, but I'd rather be hanging out with the woofy bf. It is not like I haven't tried, but so far nothing has worked and I refuse to date serial killers or women. So there you have it. I'm open for suggestions, but first things first. Did I actually pay that damn credit card bill?

Homer and Forrest go camping. We began our adventure by driving the 40 or so miles from Tucson to the top of the Catalina Mountains, immediately to the north.


On the way to the top.

The elevation goes from 2,500 ft to 9,000 ft. At the top is a pine forest. It was quite wet from the monsoon rains. We soon managed to drive down a little two-track road while looking for a campsite. Only to discover that that was a mistake.

The stuck car.

Luckily, a pair of helpful observatory employees helpfully pulled Forrest's car out from where it was spinning.

We settled on a spot in a meadow and pitched tent. As the sun went down we gathered firewood and ate supper.


Campsite sunset.

There was this rustling sound in the paper bag of food. Nothing was inside but when I moved it a medium-sized rodent was staring at me from his/her hole. I dropped a Frito in and the rodent energetically crunched on it. I then poured a batch of trail mix in- I'm sure that animal thought he/she was the luckiest rodent ever.


Forrest plays guitar.

Forrest played guitar and encouraged me to "sing." We had fun.


Red flowers.

This morning we drove to a spot and went hiking. Lots of different wild flowers were blooming because it has been so wet up there.


Cute bears.

In many places you could see where the 2002 wildfires had burned through the forest. In a few spots there were the burnt remnants of cabins. In other areas the cabins had been rebuilt.


Four years after the fire.

We went down a trail and ended up in a canyon with running water. Forrest and I sat and talked about life. He's a great buddy to have.


Homer and Forrest.

When I got back home I realized I have a cold, and feel pretty yucky. Glad it happened after my camping adventure.

I'm awful tired- I've been out running a dig and working 12 hour days. Can't talk about the dig because of some ongoing legal thingies with various peeps suing each others. However, I will say that we found some super duper cool stuff. Really super duper cool.

Then I came home all stanky and sat on the couch and got up and when I sat down again one of the cats had peed on the couch. Yuck. And then I sniffed the other chair and goddammit that one had been peed on too. I don't what is going on besides the cats have been fighting with each other. Both spots are soaking in cheap vodka and I'm washing cushion covers. One of my cats is going to be severely punished if this doesn't stop immediately.

Ohmigod, Brady and I are sitting around in my hot house and Forrest is 'sposed to bring some ice cream over and he better get over here soon before I conk out from being so tired.

I ate too much at Brady's birthday dinner. Earlier I went and bought him a present- a book on the natural history of dragons. I think he liked it a lot.


Forrest.

I picked up Forrest and drove over to Patrick's parents' house. Patrick's mother was also very pleased by the cheese and crackers I brought along. I never arrive at parties empty handed.


Patrick lighting Brady's candles.

It's 5:21 AM and I'm about ready to go to work. Today is the last day of a five-day archaeology dig. The gnats are awful in the morning, buzzing around my face and biting. I'll be glad to sleep in tomorrow!

Happy Birthday Brady!

Brady.

When I was three-and-a-half I had my tonsils taken out. I went to the hospital with Mama and she held my hand when we rode in the elevator. At that time it was one of two elevators in all of Traverse City. It was the first time I'd been in one (I didn't ride in another one until I was 16).

I stayed in a crib in the children's ward. The little boy next to me had a Speak n Say. I had seen ads for those on our old black-and-white tv and pictures in the special Sears Christmas Wish Book that came in early November and which I would spend hours looking longingly at those pages of pricey toys that existed only on paper. This was the first time I'd seen one in real life. It was better in real life. I stared and stared at that boy playing with it until he turned his back to me to hide it from my wistful eyes. But I could still hear the cow "moo" and the sheep "baaa." I wondered what it would be like to pull that string. Several years later, when I was in kindergarden, a classmate brought one to school and I discovered it wasn't nearly as much fun as I had imagined.

That night I cried for Mama. The nurse came into the darkened room, her silhouette growing larger as she approached me and I stood up in the crib and sobbed to her, "Mama! Where's my Mama?" over and over again. And then she did something shocking. She held a wadded mess of Kleenex over my mouth to muffle the cries. I could hardly breathe. She held my head so tight it was like being caught in a vise. She was determined that I wouldn't wake the other kids up. Eventually I got the idea and shut up. Later on my mother didn't believe me when I told her. But how could a three year old invent such a thing?

In the morning they made me drink something and I got sleepy and they put me in a bed and wheeled me back into the elevator. Into a room with bright lights and a man put something over my face. When I awoke I was back in the crib and they let me out later that day to play with the plastic Cowboy and Indians Mama had bought me for a hospital present. I pulled the plastic bag open and spread them out over a low wooden table. I asked the nurse if the girl across the aisle from me could play with them too, but she said no. I wish I still had them- the cowboy with the lasso and the Indian pulling the bow back to shoot an arrow and the black rearing horse that was so hard to balance.

Then Mama came to take me home and she gave me another present- a six pack of those little wax pop bottles of syrup. After you bit the end off and sucked the brightly colored syrup out you could chew the wax like gum. I have a vague recollection of telling Mama that I would have one and share the others with my four brothers and sisters. We only got candy at Easter, Halloween, and Christmas, so it was a really special treat. I remember feeling very special on that ride back to our pale green ranch house on North Long Lake Road.

I spent the morning making a cake for Brady's upcoming birthday. Martha Stewart yellow cake with raspberry jam/raspberry liquor filling and cream cheese frosting with a small amount of raspberry added. It was, according to the people who ate it, quite good.


Patrick and Brady.

Patrick, Brady, and I headed up to Richard's house for pool volleyball.


Roger and Homer.

About four hours frolicking in the pool, I'm a little bit prune-like right now.

Yesterday morning when I got up there was a little gray and white kitten hanging out in my backyard. He was very happy to see me and ran right up and started purring when I picked him up.


Gray and white kitty.

I think he's someone's cat, he is well fed and smells kinda "indoory," but maybe he ran away.



He was there again today. Puff hates him and hisses when he sees him. Old Ms. Mollie and the kitten have become friends, which is surprising because Mollie is usually afraid of cats.



I can't have another cat, so if he hangs around much longer he may have to go to the Humane Society. Luckily, he's really personable and cute, and would probably get adopted very quickly.

What I did on my vacation, or, A picture 'most every day.

Tuesday- Chef Brian.


Wednesday- Homer as Elton?


Thursday- Larry and Eric on the ferry.


Friday- lots of starfishes.


Saturday- looking towards the ocean.


Sunday- a crab on the pier.



Tuesday- On the airplane coming back.

Every vacation must end. I board the aluminum-tube-o-death today, now with new improved safety features "Enjoy the flight!" and travel to Salt Lake City and then Phoenix and then drive back to Tucson. Whew! The cats will be overjoyed to see me. Brady says one of them pooped on my bed while I was gone. Nice.

Things I learned about Vancouver:

1). Lots of redheads.
2). Lots of wildlife, especially birds. Also some super big trees.
3). Pricey.
4). Biking is very easy.
5). Very hot Chinese guys.
6). Excellent Indian food.
7). I could live here.

At the nude beach I saw herons, sea gulls, seals, and two redheads. I took a picture of one of the heron, I think it is probably poor etiquette to take photos of naked guys. Even the extremely muscled guy with the very fat uncut pecker probably wouldn't take kindly to that.

After Larry and Eric picked me up we went to a pier and I ate onion rings and scoped a totally tall, skinny, adorkable guy. Jimbo would have liked him too. Then we went out onto the pier and I got to see people catching crabs. Not the pubic kind, the big kind that bit the little Asian boy who didn't cry but excitedly showed his mother the claw marks.

Now it is nap time for moi.

The blackberry pie is ready to go in the stove. I picked the berries this morning- there are so many on the trail down to the ocean that it seems crazy to not pick more and make jam or freeze them.

Earlier I had gone down to the pebble beach and discovered purple and pink starfishes hiding under the rocks as the tide went out. I moved a few rocks and there were scads of little crabs under them, scuttling sideways to hide again. On the trail back up to the house I noticed something in the underbrush and pulled out a 1954 British Columbia license plate.

In the afternoon, we went to the grocery store and I bought a jar of gooseberry jam to bring back (checked luggage of course!).

The more I think about the new airplane restrictions, the more asinine and stupid it seems. As I noted in a comment on Joe.My.God's blog, how long before the terrorist folks realize they really don't have to do anything to cause billions of dollars in security expenses? Just pretend that you are going to hide bombs in buttons or maxipads. Then we'll be forced to board planes naked and be strapped in place for the flight. Maybe the airline will allow clear plastic garments. Better yet, pussy bombs or ass bombs. How hard would it be to hide a stick of dynamite in your butt? Probably not too hard. How long before we get the joyful anal probes? I'm so over the government trying to scare me. I am no longer afraid of the bullshit and hype.

I've been predicting that the terror levels would be elevated in September, close enough to affect the upcoming congressional elections. I was off by three weeks, but still, I'm a little skeptical.

At this point the terrorists don't have to actually do much to freak governments out and cause billions of dollars in expenses. All you have to do is plan something and then old grannies won't be allowed to take their bottles of water onto planes. Let's just have full anal probes and be done with it.

In other news, Vancouver is full of hot, furry redheads and blonds. It is also very pricey here- a 6-pack of beer is about $11 US dollars. I've run through $90 Canadian in about 30 hours. OUCH!

Election results:

Flash, 25
Sugar Tits, 7
Firebolt, 13

Moby's suggestion wins, my new bicycle is now FLASH

Thanks for doing your patriotic duty and voting :)

Vancouver is rainy. I packed summer-y clothes. Only one pair of pants. I picked fat, plump blackberries and ate them right off the bush. Too much pizza for supper. The neighborhood grocery store sells lichee fruit and unusual Chinese foods. I'm having a nice time but at the same time I already miss my cats. I think I will brush my teeth and go to bed and listen to the patter of the rain.

Vacation all I ever wanted. I'm off to Vancouver for a week. Beaches, blackberries, and eye-candy.

Homer and Jigsaw.

Nicknames. Someone called me Homersexual last night. I was minimally amused, I've been called that before and it doesn't do much for me.

The most common nickname I've had is Homey. My mother calls me Homey-pie. I've also been called Homes. That's it. I know, exciting.

Have you voted in the Bicycle Name Election? Don't let the unpatriotic terrorists win!

Every vote counts! I've narrowed the bicycle names down to my three favorites. It is up to my readers to vote now:

A). Flash (suggested by Moby)
B). Sugar Tits (suggested by durban bud)
C). Firebolt (suggested by Adam)

The Polling Place closes on Wednesday, only one vote per person pretty please.

Name Homer's New Bike.


What is my bike's name? I await your suggestion in the comment area.