Bird in Hand

New Website -- Come See Me Here...

2010-07-09T14:43:00.000-07:00

Check out my new website/blog here (and maybe buy my book!). Looking forward to "seeing" you soon!

Not Yet Flown North for Spring Or Summer

2010-05-03T10:51:00.000-07:00

Since I've not yet migrated my blog to a custom URL, I'm not sure what will happen to it (I'm still receiving dire warnings, which, if translated correctly mean my blog may one day disappear, or burst forth in a language currently unknown to mankind).

I watched the video on the mechanics of transferring, but got bogged down about three minutes in and decided to simply wait until my new website is ready before blogging in earnest again.

New site will look like a website but function like a blog, so I won't have to rely on my webmaster to plug in changes. He's in the throes of designing now, but plan is to have something up and running by mid/late May. Please stay tuned. Thank you!

The Only House We Haven't Looked At

2010-04-25T12:24:00.000-07:00

Having sold our two-story in Folsom, Steve and I have been house-hunting for a few weeks now. We've looked at new houses, old houses, remodels, short-sales, REOs, houses on the river, houses in the park, two-stories, one-stories, houses with goats, houses with hives, and one house with an indoor theater posing as a church.

The house above may be the only one we haven't looked at.

Shasta Lake -- Before and After

2010-04-16T09:33:00.000-07:00

Steve flew over Shasta Lake last November, and took this shot from a helicopter. Gorgeous, but upsetting; lake levels were so low, there was speculation it would take 10 years for it to fill again...

...and now here it is, five months later. The lake holds 4.5 million acre feet of water, and it's now at 4.1. Although the snow has already started melting, more fell last week. Once the lake is full, it will spill into the Sacramento River, and we'll either 1) use it, or 2) run for our lives. See you on the ark, people!

Here at last, here at last, thank God almighty...

2010-04-10T19:53:00.000-07:00

They're here at last!

My publisher, Jim Brumfield, sent this box of ARCs -- Advanced Reading Copies -- of my novel, THE BRIDGE AT VALENTINE, which the UPS man delivered yesterday. Couldn't wait to tear into it and check out the book, which looks terrific, all glossy and trade-paperback-ish, nestled in its box of white Styrofoam wrap. Never has a delivery man in shorts made me so deliriously happy. Now to share with a few key local reviewers, and pray for happy results.

Keep your fingers and toes crossed? (I've said it before, but I'll say it again -- it takes a village to sell a book!) Thanks for your support!

The Bridge at Valentine -- Pre-order from Amazon Now -- Woo!

2010-04-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

THE BRIDGE AT VALENTINE, my first novel, is now available on amazon.com for pre-ordering. Although Amazon says the book debuts August 16, that's an error -- it actually debuts August 1, which Amazon promises to fix. Soon.

Meanwhile, my publisher received his first box of ARCs (Advance Reader Copies) and says they look great. Now keep your fingers crossed for some great reviews...

For Love of Positano, Part 2

2010-04-01T10:27:00.001-07:00

Just returned from six days at Sirenland, a writers' workshop in Positano, Italy. This is the library at Le Sirenuse, the hotel where we worked, slept, ate.

Steve walked the streets of Positano while I workshopped my short story with Ron Carlson and nine workshop-mates. This gate is representative of everything that is lovely about this little village. Really wanted to climb those steps and see the house behind it.

The streets are lined with small shops, offering their wares. Lots of color here, where the clothes/handbags/boots in Rome are primarily black.

This man looked like a skillful diver, but he struggled when he dove. He came up empty-handed.

Renee and art historian, Professor Enrico Bruschini. We're touring the Vatican, walking the Gallery of Maps.

Outside the Vatican, heads reeling. We'll need three more days to see it all, and we're running out of time!

Enjoying the exterior of the Pantheon, where a group of Hare Krishnas were singing in the street. One man stopped to give me a cookie. It was delicious; almond flavoring, I think.

In Rome, outside our hotel, Pensione Barrett. A group of demonstrators -- easily one thousand or more -- were protesting the privatization of water. Steve thought this couple looked like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

The lounge at the airport in Rome. This man looks like we felt when we finally hit Washington, DC. It's funny now, only because we've recovered from jet lag. Let's go again next year!

For Love of Positano

2010-03-13T13:31:00.000-08:00

Off to Sirenland in five short days, where I'll meet 29 other writers and three instructors -- Dani Shapiro, Jim Shepard, and Ron Carlson -- as well as Hannah Tinti and Michael Maren, and where we'll hunker to read, write, listen and learn.

The workshop is held on the Amalfi Coast in Positano -- one of those picturesque villages situated on the face of a cliff, and where shops and houses are painted in shades of the sea. Writer Elizabeth Berg spent some time here recently, attending cooking classes, which she recounts in her essay, "Amalfi Coast: A Moveable Feast." I'm a mediocre cook (at best), and until I read this essay, not particularly interested in learning to become a better one. But having read of Berg's experience, I'm inclined to improve not only my writing, but my cooking, too, at this class in Positano.

Maybe we'll meet there?

Photo by Massimo Bassano

Story of the Week Hits Narrative Mag

2010-03-07T10:43:00.000-08:00

Narrative Magazine is running my short story, "Farallon," as a Story of the Week beginning today, March 8, through Saturday, March 13. Take a look here. After March 13, readers may access the story via Narrative's archives. (I workshopped this story last August at Squaw Valley, with Ron Carlson as my workshop leader, so I owe a special shout-out to Ron and my workshop-mates. Thank you, writing friends!)

I'll have a chance to work with Ron again in Positano, Italy, at the Sirenland Writers Conference, and, I hope, to meet Dani Shapiro, Jim Shepard, Hannah Tinti, and Michael Maren. Workshop of a lifetime!

Cooperative Poser

2010-02-28T08:38:00.000-08:00

Steve and I are thinking of putting our two-story house on the market in mid-April. We've been talking about buying a one-story for a couple of years now, and have finally begun the search. There's a beautiful place not too far from here that's close to Folsom Lake, with access to great birdwatching habitat. We checked it out again yesterday, and came upon two western bluebirds, among a throng of bushtits (laugh all you want...go ahead, just get it out).

This little fellow was the most cooperative poser.

How Cruel Thou Art, Mother Nature

2010-02-26T07:26:00.000-08:00

Brief hiatus as I recuperate from the chainsaw Mother Nature took to my throat, and the tree she felled on my head.

Please stay tuned...

Great Backyard Bird Count

2010-02-14T16:54:00.000-08:00

This is the third year Steve and I have participated in the Great Backyard Bird Count, sponsored by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, Audubon, and Bird Studies Canada. The count takes place over four days, from Friday, February 12 through Monday, February 15. The count creates a real-time snapshot of birds across the continent, and anyone can join in -- you don't have to be an expert birder to record the birds in your area.

Steve took the photo above of these hooded mergansers on the pond near the house. And below, a few more snapshots...

A California towhee, eyeballing Steve near the trail.

And a yellow-rumped warbler, shortly after emerging from a bath in the creek.

This is a spotted towhee (formerly known as a rufous-sided towhee, the name I'll forever call it; why did they change it, anyway?)...

...and last, a dark-eyed junco (formerly known as the Oregon junco -- ditto above).

Leaving Cheyenne -- Review in Narrative Magazine

2010-02-10T15:19:00.000-08:00

I have long, long, long been a fan of Larry McMurtry, so when Narrative Magazine asked if I'd be interested in reviewing LEAVING CHEYENNE for its First and Second Looks series, I was delighted to accept the invitation.

The review hit the magazine today, and if you love Larry as much as I do, please join me in the revelry here.

Great Horned Owl Chicks

2010-02-09T19:50:00.000-08:00

Steve took this photo of these very fat and fluffy great horned owl chicks while working as a wildlife biologist at Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in southeast Oregon some 900 years ago. We're older now, but ever optimistic, and if we're lucky we'll have some owlets in the redwood trees next to the house this year. Only one problem: where's the nest?

Tree-huggers and leaf-lovers: our family of four

2010-02-04T18:44:00.001-08:00

One of the really great gifts of living on or around wildlife refuges is the chance to hop onto a trail for a quick nature walk. When Jena was seven, and Maya was four, Steve worked as a wildlife biologist at Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge on southern Puget Sound, and we often plucked the binoculars from their hook in the kitchen and hit the refuge trails. On this day, the girls spotted a young garter snake, then scooped it up for a better look (click on the pic to see its flashing tongue) while Steve snapped a photo.

To this day, our girls are nature lovers; Jena works for a national conservation organization, and Maya has returned to school to pursue a degree in wildlife biology, while working part-time for her pops.

Never Take No Cutoffs

2010-02-02T11:47:00.000-08:00

"Never take no cutoffs, and hurry along as fast as you can." Such was the advice of twelve-year-old Virginia Reed, as she chronicled her family's survival as members of the Donner Party.

Although I have twice read George R. Stewart's "Ordeal by Hunger: The Story of the Donner Party," and am familiar with the details -- the harrowing journey, the diaries, the hope and despair -- I was moved by last night's "The Donner Party," a documentary written and directed by Ric Burns, and featured on PBS's American Experience. While the account wasn't new, the treatment was, and it was the actors' portrayal of the Reeds, Donners and Breens (all in voiceover -- we never actually saw them) that made the film feel fresh.

The interviews (some new, some archived), too, were touching: Wallace Stegner (who died in 1993) said of the story, "Oh, it's got everything. It's a Greek tragedy. It's a great test of human character. Some people came through it heroically and some of the people in that party were far from heroes and they got worse as the conditions got worse, so that it was as if the sheep and the goats, the blessed and the unblessed, sorted themselves out against a background of terrible hardship and tragedy."

At 90 minutes, the film is just right -- although I would have gladly watched more.

Stories on Stage

2010-02-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

Sacramento's newest monthly reading series, hosted by Valerie Fioravanti, Stories on Stage, debuted on January 29 at the Sacramento Poetry Center, and featured Jodi Angel's "The Skin from the Muscle" (read by actor William Kay) and Naomi Williams' "Snow Men" (read by actor Cynthia Mitchell Speakman).

The series will run on the last Friday of each month, and my own story, "Old Will Road," (which originally appeared in Narrative Magazine in May 2009) will be featured on April 30. Would love it if you'd pop in for a listen.

More details to come...

So Long, Holden Caulfield

2010-01-28T11:59:00.001-08:00

The first time I ever laughed out loud while reading a book was in the midst of CATCHER IN THE RYE. Rest in peace, J.D. Salinger.

Who Cooks For You? Who? Who?

2010-01-27T11:25:00.000-08:00

This great horned owl and his (her?) mate have been hovering around this redwood tree for a couple of weeks now. The tree is roughly 50 yards from the backyard, and the owls balance at the very top in the early morning, around 7 a.m., and again in the evening, around 5 p.m., calling to a third owl, somewhere in the distance.

This morning, they both flew from the redwood to the eucalyptus, then back to the redwood again; when one flew off, the other sat tight, so Steve ran upstairs to fetch his camera. This is the result, although he wasn't thrilled -- the sky was overcast and the light poor -- but I think it's pretty good.

He also ordered an owl call from Cabela's; instructions say to blow it as if you're saying: "Who cooks for you? Who? Who?" But every time we try, we crack up. Which means we won't quit our day jobs.

Storm of the Decade

2010-01-23T17:56:00.001-08:00

Steve's been a lover of open water all his life, swimming, surfing, and scuba diving in the Pacific Ocean. But even he was intimidated when he saw these waves off the coast of Elk, CA (just south of Mendocino) on Monday, January 18, in the midst of a winter storm. He estimated the swells at close to 30 feet.

These, too, although you had to be there to appreciate them (and be terrified by them).

The brown pelicans were wary, too; they huddled on the shore in a group of 200 the first two days we were there.

Steve was standing on a hilltop when he took this photo. I found the abalone shell at the edge of a creek that had become a river that was rushing into the ocean. The rain gear is no joke -- about three minutes after the photo was taken, the sky opened and Zeus drained his bathtub on our heads.

Road Trip

2010-01-16T20:51:00.000-08:00

Verlyn Klinkenborg, a writer who sits on the editorial board of The New York Times, recently wrote an essay, “The Road West,” which inspired me to dig through the notes in my "idea" file -- six pages from my reporter's notebook, detailing our road trip in 2002, when Steve and I drove across the country during our move from Georgia to California.

Here are the highlights:

Just outside Birmingham, gas was $1.03 a gallon; in Little Rock, $1.06. Nothing beat Oklahoma City, though, at 99 cents, which warranted an exclamation point in my notes.

Someone wrote “Colby is my bitch” in white spray paint on a highway overpass near Jasper, Alabama. A few miles down the road, someone else wrote “I love Lucy Baxter.” There were a lot of signs, too. In Jasper, it was widely advertised that you could get “Same-day dentures” before enjoying an exotic dance at the Booby Trap, and then lunch at BK’s Barbecue in Holly Springs, Mississippi. (The man next to me ordered six bowls of soup and ate them all. Steve ordered a hamburger.)

On Thursday, February 28, as we were driving from Little Rock to Amarillo, Steve and I began discussing the Grand Canyon. I wanted to go, Steve didn’t (he’s been there twice already), and so he said it was closed. He thought this was hilarious, and repeated it several times, saying, “You should write that down.”

From Amarillo to New Mexico, there wasn't t much to see, beyond a few broken down corrals and windmills, with some rim rocks in the distance. It reminded me of southeast Oregon.

The speed limit outside Albuquerque was 75 m.p.h., but no one drove that fast.

In Grants, NM, there were no trash receptacles at the gas station where we stopped, and we had to haul our empty Coke cans, potato chip bags, and banana peels to Flagstaff – where it was eight degrees at 7 a.m., when we awoke on March 2. We spent a few hours at the Grand Canyon (shocker, it was open after all), and on the way to Needles, we passed an old lakebed with rock outcroppings that ribboned over the surface like half-submerged serpents; accompanying this description in my notebook is a sketch of the Loch Ness monster. I wish I’d taken a photo.

I tallied the dead animals we saw along the way, which included six coyotes; three dogs; one cow (which I mistook for a washing machine); six skunks (one of them at milepost 43, said Steve, trying to be helpful); one pheasant; one red-tailed hawk; one sage thrasher; one cat; two owls; one raccoon; and one “unidentifiable.”

On March 3, at 1:30 p.m., we arrived in Sacramento. It was the best road trip ever, and I was sorry it was over. I'm ready to go again.

"Heel" Your Dog in Slingbacks

2010-01-13T10:15:00.000-08:00

I met Sandra Ramirez-Thomas at the 2007 Squaw Valley Writers Workshop, and we've stayed in touch, critiquing one anothers' stories now and then, and following our day-to-day activities on Facebook.

Not long ago, Sandra's FB profile pic featured her dog's feet encased in vintage slingback heels; I thought this was clever and funny, and mentioned it to my daughter, Jena, after realizing her own dog's feet resembled the feet of Sandra's dog.

Jena thought this story was a hoot, and yesterday, sent this pic of Miley.

Gives new meaning entirely to "heeling" your dog.

Coming Soon: Narrative's New iStory App

2010-01-08T16:04:00.000-08:00

Narrative Magazine's free iPhone app debuts in early 2010. To celebrate their launch, they've created the iStory, 150 words of dramatic fiction or nonfiction, and are soliciting submissions now. Narrative pays $250 for each iStory accepted. (Check out the guidelines here.)

My own iStory, "Assets," appears here, along with iStories from Alan Ziegler, Skip Horack, and Yuvi Zalkow. We'd be honored if you'd give us a read.

LeBron and Tyreke, Minus Mr. Shaq

2009-12-29T22:08:00.001-08:00

The Kings played the Cavaliers last weekend at Arco Arena. Steve snapped this photo of LeBron James and Tyreke Evans, going toe-to-toe.

LeBron James doing the chalk toss. Steve got a nice shot of Shaq, too,
but his head is so big, it sort of spills off the page.

Peregrine Peruses from Perch

2009-12-22T07:15:00.000-08:00

Steve took this photo of a peregrine falcon last week at Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge. The bird had just finished eating, the evidence of which lingers on its feathers.

Core Values? Service? Shocking!

2009-12-16T16:22:00.001-08:00

Steve and I have been talking about visiting Scotland (excellent birdwatching, plus, it's gorgeous), and now we have a clear-cut reason to do so. According to Scotland Magazine, The Edinburgh Bookshop is a "new bookshop for the capital," and has opened on the south side of the city. Best, its owners hope to "continue the legacy of the original Edinburgh Bookshop, which operated on George Street for many years, by bringing back the core values of customer service, wide-ranging stock selection, and well-informed staff."

Core values...God love them.

Mini Tech Survey

2009-12-08T16:03:00.000-08:00

I reversed my walk today, ending near the grade school which normally marks the beginning of my trek. Six moms were parked alongside the curb in their minivans and SUVs, waiting for their children. Four moms were texting; one was talking on her phone; and one was flipping through a "hard" calendar. (What do we call the old-fashioned paper calendars these days?)

The youngest "waiter," a teenaged boy, was sitting in a truck, flipping through a magazine. How is that for a role reversal? I wasn't sure what to make of it, but I liked it. Someone was actually giving his thumbs a rest and reading -- there's hope for writers yet.

Seals on Santa Rosa

2009-12-04T15:28:00.001-08:00

Steve took these elephant seal pics two days ago on Santa Rosa Island (part of the Channel Islands), off the coast of Santa Barbara.

The Beatles!

2009-12-02T16:03:00.000-08:00

If it's possible to die from happiness, I've got one foot in the grave. Four days ago, I ordered The Beatles Stereo Box Set from amazon.com, and it arrived in today's mail. After opening the box, I sat, nearly paralyzed, as I tried to decide which of the 14 albums I would open first. I chose With the Beatles (which must be the UK version; here in the US, it's called Meet the Beatles), as this was the first Beatles album I owned.

I remember well the evening my mom bought it for me: we were flipping through the LPs at Jack's House of Music, when "All My Loving" began playing in the background. I gasped, looked at Mom, and begged her to buy the album for me. She balked, as the cheaper "mono" versions of the record were sold out, and $2.99 for the stereo version seemed an outrageous price to pay. But pay it she did, demonstrating there is no greater love for a child than a Mom's willingness to splurge on the Beatles.

To this day, the Fab Four remain my all-time favorite band. So much so, I've lined my office wall with six of their album covers (I've got 35 posted, in all). Rubber Soul is, and always will be, number one.

Alex & Me

2009-11-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

Reading ALEX & ME by Irene Pepperberg. I have a fondness for African Greys, and recollect watching a PBS special maybe ten or so years ago, where an African Grey in the UK "spoke" with an English accent. If his owner was sipping a cup of tea, the bird would bob his head and say, "Cop of tay?," which really cracked me up. Now, when I acquire a hankering for a cup of Constant Comment, I ask Steve if he wants one, too, using this birdy accent.

Too Much Happiness

2009-11-20T09:13:00.000-08:00

Nice interview with Alice Munro in today's WSJ. Here is the gist: She's 78, lives in a small town in Ontario, Canada, and is undergoing treatment for cancer. Her new short-story collection, "Too Much Happiness," is out this week, and includes stories that frame the darker side of life -- murder, home invasion, disfigurement and mutilation. The first story (unnamed in the article) is apparently so harrowing, she can't bring herself to reread it. Which means I'll add the book to my Christmas list and read that story first. Read an excerpt from "Too Much Happiness" here. (Photo by WSJ.)

Backyard Bird Blind

2009-11-17T08:36:00.000-08:00

Steve bought a blind and set it up in the backyard last Sunday. (Every so often I'd peek out the window at him, then laugh as he poked his head up.) He took this photo of a male Anna's, but said the mourning doves wouldn't sit still. They've been shot at (dove-hunting season), and they're nervous. Maybe in a week or two...

Mistaken Identity

2009-11-16T09:42:00.000-08:00

So sorry! Always I am mistaken for Professor Einstein.

Eight Fabulous Reads

2009-11-11T03:52:00.000-08:00

I'm currently reading LOSING MUM AND PUP: A MEMOIR by Christopher Buckley, which got me thinking about the file in one of my office drawers called "Writing Samples -- Faves," which contains exactly that: favorite stories and articles that I've kept over the years, either because they're inspiring, or just so much fun to read. These are by no means all of my favorites, but they're a good start. In no particular order:

1. "The Paperhanger" (short story) by William Gay. The darkest and most delicious story EVER. (Appeared in THE O. HENRY AWARDS 2001 PRIZE STORIES)

2. "A Life Without Left Turns" (essay) by Michael Gartner. Funny, poignant -- a love story, essentially, detailing Gartner's parents' philosophy that you'll live a lot longer if you never make a left turn in front of oncoming traffic. (Appeared on usatoday.com, 6/15/2006)

3. "The Cavemen in the Hedges" (short story) by Stacey Richter. A clever, crafty, hilarious story about a woman who crosses the line. With cavemen. In the hedges. (Appeared in Zoetrope: All Story)

4. "Another Manhattan" (short story) by Donald Antrim. The exquisite unraveling of a man named Jim. (The New Yorker, December 22, 2008)

5. "Royal Pain" (short story) by Christopher Buckley. Rich Renard, PR exec extraordinaire and dealer of, well, royal pains. "It's in some ways an aimless existence. The Prince's only job, really, is to become King when his mother dies. But the women in his family live longer than Galapagos tortoises." (The Atlantic Monthly, April 2004)

6. "Them Old Cowboy Songs" (short story) by Annie Proulx. Archie and Rose McLaverty encounter a series of seriously unfortunate events in 1885. (The New Yorker, May 5, 2008)

7. "The Pig's Butler" (essay) by Thorhallur Vilhjalmsson with Jeffrey A. Kottler (gads!). "When an Icelandic Student went to work as a butler for novelist Danielle Steel, he never expected to end up as a manservant to her pet pig, Coco." (Talk magazine, Dec/Jan 2001)

8. "Reflections on Creative Writing Class: The Teacher; How to confront 30,000 words a week of teenage angst and ecstasy" (essay) by Frank McCourt. "The last thing writers need is answers -- the end of thought and the dream." (The New York Times, April 14, 2002)

Hats for Disguished Thumbs

2009-11-08T10:38:00.000-08:00

Rene models his acorn beret. Tomorrow, perhaps, a vest.

La Photographie by Stephane.

Nerdy but Cool: The Skater Boys' Conundrum

2009-11-04T20:54:00.000-08:00

This afternoon in Target I was perusing a box of recycled Christmas cards, when the word "kill" caught my attention. I looked over to find three boys, around 13 or so, rummaging through the Halloween candy (Sale! 75 Percent Off!). They wore black jeans and Vans, and all three had dark hair that curled at the backs of their necks. One wore a RAMONES tee-shirt. (If I were a 13-year-old girl, I'd describe them as skaters -- gangly, nerdy, and decidedly cool.)

As they were circling the bins, one kid said, "So you let her die, right?" and I realized they were talking about a video game. To my joy, his buddy said, "Well, hopefully you get attached to the character and let her live." The third kid wasn't participating in the dialogue, however, as he'd homed in on something spectacular. "Pez!" he rejoiced.

I knew I was onto some great dialogue, so I pushed my cart over to the sale bin, pulled a pen and pad from my pocket, and started jotting away. One of the boys glanced over at me, then turned to join his friends, who had wandered so far away that I could no longer hear what they were saying. But luck was with me, and they drifted back. RAMONE was now carrying a bag of Reese's Pieces. "You can buy Kit Kats if you want," he told his buddy, "but I'm buyin' these." Then off they went, shoulder to shoulder, in search of the Doritos aisle.

Fall Morning in Folsom

2009-10-29T12:40:00.000-07:00

Observed during my morning walk this crisp October day:

1. Man wearing flannel PJ bottoms, Birkenstocks with no socks, a white tee, dark gray jacket, and sunglasses. Happily strollin' along.

2. Middle-aged couple seated on park bench, eating french fries from a McDonald's bag and talking to an older woman. Couple's two dogs -- one a Great Dane pup with large floppy ears -- were sitting at their knees, eyeballing the fries. Only caught snippet of their conversation, but the older woman (her hair in a bun) said, "Socialization is huge. Huge, huge, huge." True on so many levels.

The park was at its best this morning: the leaves on the sycamores, maples, and oaks are just beginning to turn, and the air carried the scent of a fire from a wood stove. I may repeat the route this evening, maybe on my bike this time, and my first sweatshirt of the season.

Peregrines

2009-10-24T19:22:00.001-07:00

Steve's on the board of The Peregrine Fund, and was recently in South Texas for a board meeting. This young peregrine was trapped on South Padre Island as part of a long-term research project to measure contaminants and the reproductive health of peregrine populations.

Peregrines are now off of the endangered species list (DDT and other pesticides caused egg shell thinning and reproductive failures), as trapping results and research measurements now point to a healthy, increasing population.

A biologist is banding this young peregrine; the hood helps protect the biologist and the bird from injury. The peregrine was released a short time later.

Insomnia Haiku

2009-10-21T02:36:00.000-07:00

Awake again. Rats.
What's the secret to sleeping?
God knows, but won't tell.

A Passion for Nature

2009-10-17T20:53:00.000-07:00

Currently on page 59 of A PASSION FOR NATURE: THE LIFE OF JOHN MUIR by Donald Worster. It's been difficult reading, as Muir was tormented by his father, a controlling, joyless, brutal man.

"Daniel enforced his son's work regime, not through inducements or praise, but through thrashings and sermons. A burning brush pile became a reminder that an everlasting hell was waiting for bad boys who disobeyed God (or withheld their labor). 'The old Scotch fashion of whipping for every act of disobedience or of simple, playful forgetfulness' continued on the frontier, but now it had become part of rural work-force discipline. Most of the beatings, Muir wrote, 'were outrageously severe' and most of them fell on him, not on his sisters or younger brothers."

It's no surprise then that he found solace in nature, and comfort in the plants, wildlife and trees of Yosemite. What's surprising is that he didn't turn out like his father.

Folsom's Annual Bark 'n Splash

2009-10-11T14:57:00.000-07:00

Folsom hosted its annual Bark 'n Splash on Saturday, when local canines were invited to frolic in the kiddie pool before its yearly cleaning. This photo features Maya and Erich's Labs, Country and Delilah -- Country is the black Lab in the center of the photo (posing for the camera), and Delilah is the yellow Lab, hopping from the water -- which she did easily, roughly 2,000 times.

Not only was the pool filled with Labs and retrievers, but with two great Danes, one St. Bernard, a handful of cow dogs, two coons, two poodles, one exceedingly shy pit bull (a contradiction in terms, if ever there was one), and maybe half a dozen unidentifiables (aka mutts). Oh, and there were two bulldogs, one wearing a nifty little life vest.

I Heard the Owl Call My Name

2009-10-10T04:27:00.001-07:00

At 4:12 a.m., I was sitting at my computer, thinking I'd blog about Kristen Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, when I heard a great horned owl calling. I ran downstairs (in the dark -- crazy, I know, but I didn't want to alert it by turning on a light), and popped outside, where I stood barefoot, in my PJs and bathrobe, listening as a second owl responded, and then a third! I knew they were different birds, as the voice of the first bird, the caller, was slightly higher than the second bird, the responder. The third bird called from somewhere south, but never flew closer to join his comrades.

Temperature was close to 58 degrees, with a light wind blowing from the south. I got cold after 18 minutes and came inside, as it seemed the calls were becoming fainter. I'd hung in, hoping they'd fly west, directly over the house, but they must have flown east, where the eating is better.

4:39 a.m. and they're still calling! (Renee. Come. Out...Renee. Come Out.) I worry a lot about these birds, but tonight, at least, my faith in their future is restored.

Big Bird(s)

2009-10-06T21:59:00.001-07:00

Brown pelicans, Santa Barbara, California. I love this pic.

Photo by SPT

Grand Ol' Bull Elk and His Sugarbabe

2009-10-04T21:11:00.000-07:00

Steve was in Montana last week, attending a Board meeting for the National Wildlife Refuge Association. He took this shot of a meadow near Melville, about 20 miles north of Big Timber. Those are the Crazy Mountains in the background.

Here, he's leaving Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge (1.1 million acres), located north of Lewistown, as evening approaches and the moon rises. The landscape looks much as it did in the early 1800s, when Lewis and Clark stood in this spot, contemplating what they'd have for dinner, and who would cook it.

Steve spotted this pronghorn near Melville (it's munching a bit of grass). The pronghorn is the swiftest of North America's land mammals (it runs at about 55 mph, for several minutes at a time), and is among the fastest in the world.

A bull elk and his sugarbabe. Or one of many sugarbabes, I should say.

In the end, I made it not quite six weeks without blogging (see the Ron Carlson Kool-Aid Caper, below), and might have lasted longer, but I wanted so much to post these photos of Steve's. I regret not having gone with him -- I had the chance, but I passed, wanting to wrestle with the new novel, which is kinda driving me nuts. I'm taking a break from it, working on a short story, which features an elk as a character, though not as "fancy" as the grand old bull, below. Anyway, glad to be back -- and just in time, too. The mountain bluebirds are in, and I saw a flicker on Friday. Got a lot to talk about!

Drinking Ron Carlson's Kool-Aid

2009-08-26T16:56:00.000-07:00

While at Squaw Valley Writers Workshop in August, Ron Carlson, one of our fiction workshop leaders, encouraged us to lay off the email until after 4:00 p.m., and to forgo blogging altogether. He's no Luddite, but he's got a point: all things technology are time suckers -- and he never even mentioned Facebook, which I confess is an all-out addiction.

The point is that there are too many distractions for writers, most having to do with eating, coffee drinking, and excuse-making in general, and if we're "working" on anything other than fiction, we're simply goofing off.

So I'm taking a sabbatical from blogging, and limiting myself to two Facebook visits per day -- before 9:00 a.m., and after 4:00 p.m., when I'll also check email.

Can I do it? Heck if I know, but I'm gonna try. I gotta try. I've got a deadline for the first draft of my new novel, and if I'm going to nail it, I've got to drink Ron's Kool-Aid.

See you April 1?

Dusty Checkin Us Out

2009-08-17T10:01:00.000-07:00

Dusty is a four-year-old Morgan gelding owned by Toni Deery. I met with Toni on Saturday to get a better understanding of horses and their habits, hoping to incorporate this knowledge into my new novel. Dusty was a kick, no pun intended. Steve took the photo.

New Wildlife Pics

2009-08-01T08:37:00.000-07:00

Off to Squaw Valley Writers Workshop, but before I go, I wanted to post a couple of photos that Steve took in/around Grover Hot Springs during our 3-day camping excursion earlier this week. (Top photo is of a mule deer buck; he stood outside our tent in early evening and browsed on a plant that looked a lot like a wild rose; second photo is of a cinnamon-colored black bear with her two cubs. She appeared on the outskirts of Markleeville, around 12:00 p.m.)

First afternoon we were rained out, but timing was perfect: we'd just set up the tent when the first drops hit, and not having eaten yet, ate our sandwiches in the tent, then sacked out for a nap. That evening, we took a nice soak in the hot springs, and by 6:30 the next morning, the coffee was on the camp stove and Steve was off to do a little fishing in the creek. I stayed behind, finalizing my manuscript for Squaw, sipping coffee near the fire. Ah, glorious Sierra. How we love to visit.

Little Bit Buried

2009-07-24T04:12:00.000-07:00

Finalizing the additions to BRIDGE AT VALENTINE, due from Tres Picos Press in Summer 2010, and wrapping up the short story for Squaw Valley Writers Workshops Aug. 1-8.

Also received a nice invitation yesterday to write a book review for Larry McMurtry's LEAVING CHEYENNE, which I'll post here as soon as it's live.

Happy writing, all!

Crushes on McCourt and McMurtry

2009-07-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

I've always had a little crush on Frank McCourt, author of Angela's Ashes. I read yesterday that he's in a New York hospice and not expected to live. This is distressing news, as he's one of my favorite writers (Larry McMurtry is another, and I've got a crush on him too). A few years ago, I had a chance to hear Frank McCourt speak in Sacramento (he was 76 at the time). Afterward, I waited in a long line to have my book signed, and when my turn came, I said, "Thank you for coming to Sacramento to speak to us, Mr. McCourt."

Pen in hand, he paused, glanced up, and grinned. "What choice did I have?"

Even now I laugh, thinking of it.

Catcher in the Rye

2009-07-16T09:11:00.000-07:00

It was on this day in 1951 that J.D. Salinger's first and only novel, The Catcher in the Rye, was published. It has gone on to sell more than 65 million copies. (Tidbit courtesy of The Writer's Almanac.)

Wedding Weekend

2009-07-14T21:28:00.000-07:00

Just got back from Fort Bragg, where our niece, Megan Fleshman, married her sweetheart, Josh Lydon. We stayed at the Elk Cove Inn, our favorite, with daughter Maya and son-in-law Erich. Steve got some beautiful pics. Top photo is of Maya and Erich. Middle photo is a river otter (yes, they swim in the ocean!), and middle photo is a western grebe.

No photos of the bride and groom yet, as we don't want to post until they've seen them, and they're in Hawaii now. More to come, I promise...

Swooning in the Swamp

2009-07-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

Now reading The Snoring Bird: My Family's Journey Through a Century of Biology by Bernd Heinrich. Three chapters in, and am hooked. The New York Times, in reviewing the book, said, "This particular gene pool turns out to be something of a fever swamp, and thereby hangs a tale of two naturalists that reads like a cross between a Darwinian parable and a Nabokov novel: an absorbing scientific saga rife with uncanny twists and fraught with quandaries over the primordial tussle between nature and nurture."

Take Ten to Recharge

2009-07-03T08:32:00.000-07:00

Writing, reading, exercising, weeding, sleeping and eating (though not necessarily in that order!). Evenings are for us, though, and last night Steve skipped off to capture this image of horses in a field on the south side of Hwy. 50. One day, all of this land will be houses. We're enjoying it now, while we can.

Snoozing Mallard

2009-06-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

Too hot to do anything but sleep.

112 in the Shade

2009-06-29T09:15:00.000-07:00

Steve came upon this panting coyote last night around 8:00. It was 112 degrees, breaking the record for Folsom (paper actually recorded temperature at 114; we believe it). We're hoping for a little relief today. And maybe a glass of iced tea.

Early Flockers

2009-06-20T21:36:00.000-07:00

Still hunkered; just started chapter four of novel, and am editing short story for Squaw. Meanwhile, nice pic of Steve's to share -- house finches near the 'hood. SPT says they are done nesting, and although it's early, they appear to be flocking for fall.

Donner und Blitzen!

2009-06-05T09:42:00.000-07:00

The blogs will become less frequent for a while, as I've begun writing a new novel, "Old Will Road," the first chapter of which was featured as a Story of the Week in Narrative's May issue. I'll continue posting Steve's photos from time to time -- this one taken Wednesday evening, when we'd scheduled a camping trip to Grover Hot Springs, but later cancelled due to inclement weather.

This shot is looking north from our upstairs bedroom window.

You Think You've Got Problems

2009-05-29T09:12:00.001-07:00

The Monterey Herald reported today that sea lion pups are overtaking the parking lot in the Breakwater Cove area, near the Coast Guard station. The city has hired a part-time temporary worker to "sweep" them back to sea, but when he leaves at 5 p.m., they take over the place, going so far as to camp out on the toilet of the men's restroom.

Read the story here. (Photo by Orville Meyers/The Herald)

Sweet Delilah

2009-05-25T19:24:00.001-07:00

Jena and Jeremy have a new beach house, and Maya and Erich have a new dog! Meet Delilah, an 8-week-old female yellow Lab. She joins Country, at home. (Miley lives in San Diego with J&J; of course we love her too!)

Larry's Kidney

2009-05-21T18:09:00.000-07:00

Just started LARRY'S KIDNEY, by Daniel Asa Rose, "...the true story of how I found myself in China with my black sheep cousin and his mail-order bride, skirting the law to get him a transplant -- and save his life."

I was in bed, reading, and when I got to page 19, I busted out laughing. It seems Daniel is in Tiananmen Square, and he asks his tour guide, Yuh-vonne, if she's aware of what happened there in the late 1980s. This is what transpires:

Yuh-vonne winks lasciviously. "Inside those walls, emperor spend so much time playing with his concubine," she says.

"No, not inside the Forbidden City," I say. "Across the street in the square. In 1989."

Yuh-vonne quickly averts her gaze. "Our elders will not tell us," she says. "Many time we ask them, but they say don't ask."

"Do you know that students were hurt here?"

"A few," she says carefully. "That about it."

I bring her gaze back to me with a hand on her shoulder. "Not a few," I say. "Hundreds. The tanks rolled right over them when they were protesting."

"Ow my God!" she says, sucking in her breath. "I have to go tawlet!"

"Seriously?"

"No, I can wait," she says, but she looks constipated suddenly, buttoned up.

Can't wait to read more!

Wood Duck Sits on 23 Eggs. (That's a lotta eggs!)

2009-05-16T17:15:00.000-07:00

Steve met Mike and Toni Deery at their ranch this morning, where they have a pond with a wood duck box. Steve's gone over twice to check the status, and this morning there were 23 eggs -- double the normal amount. He's guessing another female wood duck "dumped" her eggs in this female's nest after a raccoon got her own first batch. The eggs will hatch in about five days.

Steve, Toni, and Mike also banded the duck (number 1096-90254), removing her briefly from the box to place the band and check the eggs before setting her back in. She settled in cozily.

"Old Will Road" Hits Narrative Magazine

2009-05-12T14:54:00.000-07:00

I think there are maybe three people I haven't yet told about my short story, "Old Will Road," featured as a Story of the Week in Narrative magazine. It hit the site on Mother's Day, and will remain accessible all of this week from their home page. (After that, click on the archives link and search for my name, down there at the bottom of the "T"s.)

Thanks to everyone for the wonderful emails and comments. I love that you love the story, and yes, I promise to give serious thought to giving these characters a permanent home via a novel.

Young Barred Owl

2009-05-09T19:30:00.000-07:00

Steve took this photo of a young barred owl at the Francis Beilder Forest, an Audubon and Nature Conservancy bottomland hardwood sanctuary, near Charleston, South Carolina. The little guy's parents are likely nearby, and are probably still feeding him. He's not exactly a fatty, and looks like he could use an extra mouse or two!

New Logo for CLO

2009-05-07T08:51:00.000-07:00

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a new logo -- a yellow-bellied sapsucker. Love it!

Pete Fromm

2009-05-06T10:11:00.000-07:00

I met Pete at Tomales Bay in late 2007, where he was leading a fiction workshop. We sat together at breakfast one morning, talking about the things we have in common -- or, rather, the things he and my husband have in common (swimming and wildlife biology). I liked Pete, and when I got home, picked up a copy of his memoir, INDIAN CREEK CHRONICLES, which I have since shared with my hairy wildlife friends.

Pete's got a Story of the Week in Narrative this week, "Peas," which you can access here. (If you're reading this after May 10, search the archives, instead.) I know you'll enjoy it as much as I did, so check it out and leave a comment on Narrative's board; it's definitely worth your while.

Olive Kitteridge

2009-05-02T15:45:00.000-07:00

Just finished OLIVE KITTERIDGE, this year’s Pulitzer Prize-winner by Elizabeth Strout. The book is a set of 13 linked stories set in small-town Maine, and features as its protagonist a retired school teacher named Olive Kitteridge.

There is much debate among readers concerning Olive’s bristly personality – whether she’s gruff, maddening, loveable, sympathetic, or “blunt, flawed and fascinating.” One reviewer stated “Strout makes a reader feel protective, even tender, toward Olive…” but I could not disagree more. I found her to be heart breakingly mean-spirited, as she is in this scene with her husband, Henry:

It was Henry who bought the groceries now. One day he brought back with him a bunch of flowers. “For my wife,” he said, handing them to her. They were the saddest damn things. Daisies dyed blue among the white and ludicrously pink ones, some of them half-dead.

“Put them in that pot,” Olive said, pointing to an old blue vase. The flowers sat there on the wooden table in the kitchen. Henry came and put his arms around her; it was early autumn and chilly, and his woolen shirt smelled faintly of wood chips and mustiness. She stood, waiting for the hug to end. Then she went outside and planted her tulip bulbs.

I could cry, reading that.

In an interview with Robert Birnbaum, Elizabeth Strout says she doesn’t have a stake in readers’ reactions to Olive, but that she does have a stake in their reactions to the book. “I hope that even if they have a negative response to much of Olive’s behavior, they are maybe still drawn into this humanity that is underneath all of her actions.”

But it is difficult to find humanity in a woman who is cruel to her family, friends, and those in her community. Her favorite word seems to be “stupid,” as in “you are stupid, they are stupid, he/she/it is stupid.” So I do not commiserate when sad things happen to her, or when she at last realizes the value of what she has so consistently and cruelly dismissed. (In other words, lady, what goes around, comes around.)

Having said that, I don’t need a soft and fuzzy protagonist to appreciate a finely crafted novel. The writing is delicious, and all of the characters supremely drawn. Which, despite cranky old Olive, is to Elizabeth Strout’s credit.

Eucalyptus Visitors

2009-05-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

Two birds new to our backyard yesterday: the western tananger (above) and the black-headed grosbeak (below). Both of these birds arrived ahead of a moderate cold front and significant rainfall (just over an inch). Steve took the pics from his upstairs office window.

We also think the hooded oriole is back -- heard him, but haven't yet seen him, as he/she is quite the hider-outer.

Birdwatching Bonanza

2009-04-29T17:14:00.000-07:00

Spotted during walk along the trail this afternoon:

1 barn own (it flew directly overhead and landed in a stand of cottonwoods near the creek)
1 black phoebe
1 lesser goldfinch
1 California quail
1 zippy little lizard with short, stout legs
2 downed saplings and a big pile of wood chips (the beavers are back in the neighborhood pond -- maybe we'll see some kits soon)

Novel's Early Promise Stalls

2009-04-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite halfway through Gil Adamson's THE OUTLANDER (not to be confused with OUTLANDER by Diana Gabaldon), and suspect I've stalled because the book is a bit slow. Premise is great -- "In 1903 a mysterious young woman flees alone across the West, one heart-pounding step ahead of the law. At nineteen, Mary Boulton has just become a widow, and her husband's killer..." -- but the promise of a great adventure remains unfulfilled.

I am hopeful, however, as the character called The Ridgerunner has just come back on scene, implying he and Mary will again get together and stir up a little action.

Happy Earth Day!

2009-04-21T17:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm a day early, as Earth Day doesn't actually arrive until April 22 -- but I've got two commitments tomorrow and may not get a chance in the morning to post this link to the Peregrine Fund Webcam.

The peregrine pair laid their first egg in this nest box in Boise, Idaho, on April 10; their second on April 12; their third on April 14, and their fourth (and last) on April 17. I just took a peek, and the female was standing over the eggs and then she gently sat and took her time settling in. Her back is to the camera as I write this, and I'm hoping she'll turn a bit so I can see her face. (If she's not moving when you click on the link, don't worry -- she's alive. Just check again later.)

Little feathers clinging to pebbles are waving in the wind, and every now and then a car passes by in the upper left-hand corner.

She just poked her head up!

Grover Hot Springs Here We Come!

2009-04-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

Made our res this afternoon for our annual trek to Grover Hot Springs (our favorite camping spot), just a few miles west of Markleeville. We'll take our bicycles and our bathing suits, as there are lots of great hiking/biking trails, as well a pool, fed by six hot springs. Ah, heaven. Can't wait for a campfire, coffee, and melted marshmallows on a stick!

(Photo by Gary O'Toole)

Focus on Writers Contest 2009

2009-04-15T11:22:00.000-07:00

Focus on Writers Contest 2009, sponsored by Friends of the Sacramento Public Library, is accepting unpublished manuscripts between May 1 and August 1, 2009. Categories include:

Short Story (2,500-word limit)
First Chapter of Novel (3,000-word limit)
Poem (Two-page maximum, per poem)
Non-fiction Article/First Chapter of Non-fiction Book (2,500-word limit)
Book/Article for Children, Fiction/Non-fiction (1,000- or 2,100-word limit; see rules)
First Chapter of Book for Young Adults, Fiction/Non-fiction (3,000-word limit; see rules)

Prizes awarded in each category: First ($250); Second ($150); Third ($75). Winner will be notified by September 15.

World's Greatest Irony?

2009-04-14T08:28:00.000-07:00

This month's Vanity Fair features an advertisement from American Spirit, a tobacco company featuring "100 percent additive-free natural tobacco cigarettes." In other words, organic. Yes, you read that correctly -- no fertilizers or pesticides (at least those prohibited by the USDA's National Organic Program) are used in growing this tobacco -- although, apparently, the nicotine is still somewhat problematic, as there are no fewer than eight (count them, eight!) boxed warnings that the absence of additives in their tobacco products "does NOT mean a safer cigarette."

Yep, they're pretty sure you'll agree: Natural Tastes Better. Oh, and here's a bonus: the advertisement was printed on 30 percent PCW recycled stock.

Crazy.

Oh Joy! Rapture!

2009-04-12T19:54:00.000-07:00

The poppies are in bloom!

Candyfreak

2009-04-08T17:09:00.000-07:00

I'm reading Steve Almond's "Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America," a sort of memoir/walk down candy memory lane, and finding it wholly entertaining. The first chapter of Almond's book brought to mind my own favorite candies, which I bought at The Variety Store (walking distance from Arden Park), some 90 decades ago.

I remember the store well -- its high ceilings, dark linoleum floor, and sundry offerings from sunglasses to Slinkies to lined notebook paper -- as well as the set-up of the candy rack, which rested on top of a glass case, near the cash register. Penny candies were arranged in slotted boxes on the bottom row, within arm's reach, but the pricier candies -- full sized bars, which cost five cents each -- were lined end to end, filling four tiered rows of the candy box, so that a kid could lose his mind while making a decision, sometimes buying a Sugar Daddy out of sheer desperation and wildly regretting it later.

Too, I remember my favorites, as well as the proper method of eating to achieve premium enjoyment. In no particular order they include:

Candy Cigarettes (bite tip off end and blow imaginary smoke while simultaneously chewing candy)
Peanut M&Ms (separate colors, eat reds first, check hands for chocolate-residue)
Payday (pick off peanuts, eat peanuts, save caramel nougat for last)
Jujubees (a movie favorite, although choking is sometimes a problem)
Good 'N Plenty (shake small amount into palm, toss directly into mouth)
Burnt Peanuts (delicious little toothbusters; ingest with caution)
Boston Baked Beans (boxed candies quite good, but better if purchased from gumball machine with twisty metal handle; often available in tire repair shops, and at your dad's local mechanic)
Ice Cubes (available for purchase in 1967 for two cents each; now cost $39.99 for tub of 120, making them 33 cents each; that, my friend, is a travesty)

I would giddily devour any and all of these candies today, and can only imagine how much fun I'd have with a pack of cinnamon toothpicks. Ooh, and a Chick-O-Stick. Yum.

Soar with the Eagles

2009-04-04T18:26:00.000-07:00

Bald eagle, Klamath Falls, Oregon
Taken April 2, approximately 3 p.m. (photo by Steve)

Overheard at Borders

2009-03-30T18:16:00.000-07:00

Writers are compelled to take notes. Commit to paper every detail that might one day serve a story. I've often pilfered the conversations of others and incorporated them into my stories. I recently transcribed a scene between a father and son at Borders, while drinking a cup of coffee. The dad, who looked to be in his late fifties, sat a table with his son, who was in his early-to-mid thirties. The dad did all the talking. This is what he said:

"Your mom's had a couple of little episodes. She gets that vertigo thing you have. No. Not what you have -- she goes to absolute zero, flat down on her back. She lost ten pounds in two and a half days. She looked like a walking corpse. She starts feeling bad and has to sit down -- she can get up with help and make it to the bathroom. Then she vomits. She's got crystals in her inner ear canal and it kills her balance."

Here, the father paused. The son didn't say a word, and then after a moment, asked, "Want to go?" And just like that, they were gone.

I've often wondered about that son -- why he had no comment to make about his sick mother. There's a story there, and I may tell it. But I know it won't end well.

Hummingbird Babe

2009-03-28T13:54:00.001-07:00

Steve stumbled upon this hummingbird nest a few days ago, and returned this morning to snap a pic. We think the female began nesting around the first of March. Mom returns every 15 minutes or so to feed Itty Bitty.

March Madness

2009-03-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

March Madness means something different to birdwatchers -- it's the time of year when hummingbirds (as in the Anna's, above), finches and doves pair up and become quite territorial. Downy woodpeckers, however, are simply looking for a pre-game snack, as demonstrated by the fellow below.

Another Manhattan

2009-03-23T18:03:00.000-07:00

Donald Antrim's "Another Manhattan" is a short story I know I'll read again and again, just as I've repeatedly read William Gay's "The Paperhanger." Antrim's story was my introduction to his work, and because I so enjoyed it, I requested his memoir THE AFTERLIFE from the library. This book deals primarily with Antrim's relationship with his toxically alcoholic mother, and while it showcases his admirable skills as a writer, I just didn't dig it.

Having said that, I'm still very interested in reading more of his work, and plan to request THE HUNDRED BROTHERS next. Reviews sound exceptionally good.

Shrinking Bread Inspires Witty Retort

2009-03-19T20:35:00.000-07:00

So Steve and I were at Macaroni Grill a few days ago, ordering our usual -- halibut for me and scampi for Steve -- and while we were waiting for our entrees to arrive, the waiter brought the traditional little loaf of bread and filled the tiny saucer with oil.

And when I say "little," I mean "dinky," because the size of the loaf the waiter set down was easily half the normal portion.

Me (upon waiter's departure): What? What!? Look at how small this thing is, will you? What are they trying to do? Downsize?

Steve: Maybe they're trying to save some dough.

I don't care who you are...that's funny.

Hard Times, Less Trash

2009-03-15T12:18:00.000-07:00

I remember reading not too long ago that shoe repairmen are seeing a surge in business since the onset of the recession -- that people who once gave no thought at all to tossing slightly used shoes now take them to the local cobbler to have soles and heels replaced.

The EPA says Americans discarded 7 million tons of clothing and footwear in 2007, but with the souring of the economy came news that we were finally heeding the environmentalists' mantra to reduce, reuse, recycle and repair.

The Washington Post reported that landfill managers knew something was amiss in the economy when trash levels began dropping last year.

"The trash man is the first one to know about a recession because we see it first," said Richard S. Weber, manager of the Loudoun County, Va., landfill. "Circuit City's closing, so people aren't going there and buying those big boxes of stuff and throwing away all the Styrofoam and shrink wrap...and whatever they were replacing."

And we must have been replacing a boatload, as Americans tossed 254 million tons of unwanted stuff last year.

Now, says the Post, some landfills are reporting declines as sharp as 30 percent.

Breakfast in the Suburbs

2009-03-11T18:51:00.001-07:00

Steve captured this female lesser goldfinch as she waited her turn at the feeder. She's sitting in a redbud tree in the back yard, watching Steve and her little finch friends, and keeping an eye on the thistle.

A Day at Crocker Art Museum

2009-03-08T16:37:00.000-07:00

Steve and I spent a few hours this afternoon at the Crocker Art Museum in downtown Sacramento. We'd read about Mari Kloeppel's exhibit, "Animals in the Drawing Room: Portraits by Mari Kloeppel," and knew it was a show we didn't want to miss. The painting above was on display, as were pieces showcasing her knowledge of brown pelicans, peregrine falcons, horses, dogs and rabbits. A truly gifted artist.

Afterward, we toured the rest of the museum -- it's been years since we've had a chance to visit. Steve loved all of the California paintings, and my favorite was "Invasion of Persia by the Russians, 1829" by German artist Karl August Aerttinger (1803-1876). Click on the link above, and when the full illustration appears, click on the painting to enlarge, then scroll left/right for all the glorious details.

Bad Dog

2009-03-06T15:07:00.000-08:00

Jena said, "I'm freaking home, for goodness' sake. She's not even sneaky anymore!"

Exercise in Futility

2009-03-03T13:06:00.000-08:00

Go to your local Borders with your 30% off coupon and look for books by Antonya Nelson, Mary Gaitskill and Donald Antrim.

When you can't find these authors in the alphabetical listings, squint, look around for a stool and drag it over. Step on stool and feel around on top shelf to ensure you haven't missed anything. Sigh. Step down.

Schlep to Customer Service area. Perform a search on the Borders computer system to ensure you haven't somehow overlooked the obvious.

Note that NOT ONE of these authors has a single book in the store.

Curse under breath.

Go home and order from Amazon.

Antonya Nelson

2009-03-01T08:56:00.000-08:00

Speaking of subscriptions (see yesterday's post), I also regularly receive Writers Ask, a Glimmer Train publication, wherein various writers interview other writers on topics ranging from point of view; editing; endings; publishing; and the writing life.

Andrew Scott, of Ball State University, interviewed Antonya Nelson, a professor at the University of Houston and author of several novels and short-story collections. "What do you find most difficult about teaching?" he asked. "Is there anything you find yourself stressing over...that students don't seem to grasp?"

Antonya said, "The commitment to the first draft, that's the most tiresome thing about teaching students. When they say, 'I want it to be confusing. I want it to be ungrammatical. I want it to be a big freaking mess.' Well, I don't. You get an F."

I laughed out loud over this, loving her sensibility. And because I appreciated her straightforwardness, I wanted to read her work -- something I've not done before -- so I ordered her short-story collection NOTHING RIGHT from the library. Alas, there's a waiting list, so I may run to Borders, see what's on the shelf (taking advantage of my 30% off coupon. Woo-woo!).

If you've read Antonya, let me know what you think.

Favorite Pubs and Subs

2009-02-28T07:18:00.000-08:00

The demise of the Rocky Mountain News got me thinking about my own newspaper and magazine preferences and the reasons I enjoy reading what I do. In a nutshell:

Paper I subscribe to and enjoy reading with a morning cup of coffee:

The Sacramento Bee (national news is dated by the time it hits the driveway, but I like following what's happening in the city itself, as well as movie and restaurant reviews)

Paper I subscribe to because Steve likes it:

Wall Street Journal (this is a new subscription; too early to report)

Paper I used to subscribe to, but dropped b/c it took too long to get through:

Sunday New York Times (a delicious read, but three hours later I was still hunkered at the table)

Mags I subscribe to, love, and actually read cover to cover:

Poets & Writers (interviews, advice, conferences, contests -- what's not to love?)
Vanity Fair (interviews, intrigue, perfume ads -- with samples! -- and tons of interesting models...which sometimes make for good character descriptions)

Mag I subscribe to, love, and with which I sometimes vehemently disagree:

Audubon (Ted Williams writes a column called "Incite," and that he does, my friend)

Mag I subscribe to because Texas is a hoot:

Texas Monthly (if you ever lived in Texas, you'd totally get this)

Mag I subscribe to primarily as a research tool:

Western Horseman (what does it mean to be a cowboy? I'm still trying to figure it out)

Mags I sometimes buy at the newsstand, but have never subscribed to: The New Yorker; Esquire; Men's Health; People. Once in a while, if I'm traveling, I'll pick up a copy of O, but by and large the traditional women's mags don't turn me on. It strikes me that even in publishing, the guys have a little more fun.

No Bull

2009-02-25T10:51:00.001-08:00

These bulls are still in the pasture, waiting to meeting their sweet California girlfriends. Guy on left just checked his Blackberry, and he's raring to make a surf date. Guy in rear can't wait to show off his jet ski, while Mr. Polka Dots is all about the tacos.

Ah, Fiddle!

2009-02-23T08:33:00.001-08:00

Fiddleneck grows in disturbed grasslands and is harmful to cattle if eaten. Sure is pretty to look at though. Steve took this shot on the south side of Highway 50, which is now blanketed in pasture but will one day encompass thousands more houses, no doubt.

The Pillars of the Earth

2009-02-21T11:04:00.000-08:00

I'm late getting on this train, picking up Ken Follett's PILLARS OF THE EARTH only after several friends encouraged me to hop aboard. For the most part I enjoyed it -- Prior Philip is a likeable and engaging character -- but in the end I found the book too long by almost half. Fairly early on I discovered I could skim significant chunks of narrative without losing the gist of the story by simply reading the first sentence of a paragraph, then skipping to the first sentence of the next paragraph, and so on, until I'd landed where I could again settle in on the tale.

Around page 750, though (of 973 pages total) I began to wonder if the book would ever end -- and then having reached it, I was a little disappointed.

SPOILER ALERT: When William Hamleigh died by hanging rather than Aliena's sword, I felt cheated. She, more than anyone, deserved the satisfaction of killing him -- and had long ago established she was capable of the deed -- for all she'd endured at his hand. Mr. Follett did us (and his character) an injustice by not allowing her the privilege -- and I'd be curious to know if in hindsight he wishes he had.

Ode to Insomnia

2009-02-20T02:08:00.000-08:00

Fell asleep, woke up.
Tossed, turned, adjusted pillow.
Hell with it, got up.

Results are in -- Great Backyard Bird Count

2009-02-14T17:33:00.001-08:00

Resident great egret at neighborhood pond.

Anna's hummingbird on the trail near the house.

Cinnamon teal pair -- female leading, male behind.

The results are in -- Steve and I spent two hours this afternoon, participating in the Great Backyard Bird Count (a bit of an accomplishment, considering Steve has a bad cold). The weather was cooler than last year and we didn't see quite as many birds, but we still had a nice afternoon. In all, we recorded 32 species -- a total of 273 birds. Spotted our favorite kingfisher, but he wouldn't hold still long enough for Steve to snap a pic. Also reported a pair of red-shouldered hawks, who appeared to be nesting (or preparing to nest) in an oak scrubland not far from the trail.

The Godfather Wars by Mark Seal

2009-02-14T09:48:00.000-08:00

There's a great article in this month's Vanity Fair, "The Godfather Wars" by Mark Seal, in which the writer reveals Francis Ford Coppola's struggle to get the film made, as well as his vision of a story not about organized crime, but a family chronicle, "a metaphor for capitalism in America." Robert Evans, the head of production at Paramount Pictures, thought Coppola was nuts but ultimately acquiesced.

Seal also reveals some details which I'm sure I'd read before, but which I'd forgotten, and which were good fun to revisit on the page: the Mob's early endeavors to prevent the film from being made; how film executives hated Coppola's casting choices, "especially Pacino, who they felt was far too short" to play Michael Corleone -- Evans going so far as telling Coppola that "a runt will not play Michael"; Mario Puzo's insistence that Marlon Brando play the lead; and Coppola's casting of many of his family members in the film: his sister, Talia Shire, who played Connie Corleone, his father, Carmine Coppola, as a "gun-toting mobster," his wife and two sons in the baptism scene at the end, and his daughter, Sofia, as the baptized infant.

Seal quotes Al Pacino as saying he is at a loss as to why the movie that made him a star connected so powerfully with audiences everywhere: "I would guess," he tells me, "that it was a very good story, about a family, told unusually well by Mario Puzo and Francis Coppola."

Photo credit: Steve Schapiro

Rattlesnake Hole

2009-02-11T11:42:00.000-08:00

Here's a photo making the rounds at the California Department of Fish and Game. Now, when someone says, "Watch out for the rattlesnake hole," you'll know what they mean.

Great Backyard Bird Count

2009-02-09T16:37:00.000-08:00

The Great Backyard Bird Count, sponsored by Audubon and the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, begins in just four days. Friday, February 13, is the first day that bird watchers of all ages can tally the birds in their communities and backyards, then enter their totals on the GBBC website.

Participants can download a checklist from the site, spending as little as fifteen minutes counting birds, or as long as they like. Waterfowl, raptors, shorebirds and songbirds (anything and everything) are then reported on the website.

Grab your binocs and go!

Cowboy Gathering Pics, Part 2

2009-02-03T09:12:00.001-08:00

This fellow was the one little guy who refused to follow the rules -- all the other horses were lining up quite nicely, but this horse trotted toward us and generally goofed off until the man in the green jacket flicked him on the rear.

Barn interior.

Long view of barn interior.

Buckaroos fixin to rope.

Quitting Time

2009-02-02T15:57:00.001-08:00

Started a new short story today, applied to Aspen Summer Words, and submitted a short story to The Tusculum Review. Now my back's got a kink in it, so it's probably time to quit.

National Cowboy Poetry Gathering

2009-01-30T18:23:00.001-08:00

Steve took this photo at the TS Ranch, originally settled by William Dunphy around 1870; the ranch is now owned by the Newmont Mining Corporation and is one of the largest private holdings in Nevada. Steve and I had the chance to visit during our trip to Elko for the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. It was as educational as it was fun, and we'd do it again in a minute.

Ranch manager Dan Gralian said the TS is a "totally buckaroo outfit," meaning it follows cowboy and buckaroo traditions. One of those traditions is known as "off the rope," whereby buckaroos select the horse they'll ride for the day from a semi-circle of horses which have lined up inside a corral along a rope -- rears facing the center of the corral, noses facing the rope -- and the horse is then roped and given to the cowboy.

The buckaroos pictured above demonstrated the technique for us. I was curious if working horses look forward to cutting cattle in the same way that working dogs look forward to cutting sheep, so I asked one of the buckaroos. He smiled and said, "Not so much." He also said he'd once worked at a ranch where the horses sort of adopted a group sway, so they'd be harder to rope.

I don't care who you are -- that's just funny.

Country at Conaway

2009-01-25T09:40:00.001-08:00

Steve and I took Country to the Conaway Ranch last Thursday, where he kicked up his heels and frolicked in the marsh. We really laughed, watching him bolt into the water, then make his sweeping circle of perhaps 12-15 yards before returning to the shore. He must have done this 20 times, occasionally pausing to snatch up a mouthful of weeds, or to listen to ducks calling in the distance.

It was his first visit to the marsh, and for a pup just six months old, he did very well.

Can't wait for him to meet his cousin, Miley Meredith. More adventures to come!