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Archive for the ‘rain’ Category

Taken around dinnertime today in our backyard:

5:37 PM, May 29th, 2010 - Wet Whiskery Budding Poppy

There are lots more poppies in this part of Washington than where I grew up and my favorites are the huge salmon-colored ones, like the one above just starting to unfurl. I’ve had my eye on it the past week or so; it’s the only one we have in our yard, and like everything else in our yard seems to be there by accident.

It’s Memorial Day weekend, which is a big ole get-drunk-for-three-days kind of deal to most people, which is a small part of why I’ve been celebrating the drizzle for the past five days and the forecast for five more days of the same. Because I’m a disapproving asshole who hates the way most people celebrate this holiday and the way they don’t appreciate (and even resent) the rain. Where we live the rain hasn’t been the kind that would ruin doing stuff outside; it’s the perfect kind that invites people like me outside into it while the other kinds of assholes avoid it.

But I haven’t gone out in it the way I wish I could would. We have too much work to do. I know not much of it seems to be showing up, but I have *great* beginnings on so much of it! And then I run out of steam or have to divert my steam to starting something else. We did shoot and post this video for members to jack off to and I hope to post another one tomorrow. We have to shoot as much content as possible before Delia’s surgery and also try to promote our sites so we can actually make sales. Not a lot of time left for other stuff without mind loss, but I have spent time looking out the windows. It’s been beautifully and consistently overcast without constant rain so the birds are still active and I can gaze outside without a bunch of glaring sunshine giving me a headache.

While I drove home from the store today I wound up behind some drunk jackass in a giant, perfectly-clean pickup truck, weaving all over the road in both lanes and the shoulder. I just laid on the horn, like “hooooooooooooooooonk . . . . hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonk” for five blocks at 25 miles per hour. It was a meaningless gesture of hatred: a fortuitous opportunity to express some of my distaste for the world. I actually laughed when I read the “breaking news” that BP’s “top kill” approach failed. Did anybody honestly think that would work anyway? Whatever.

On other news of the day: I love watching Dennis Hopper movies, but as a human being he’s NOT somebody I looked up to in an off-screen kind of way. I mean, YES, I may fantasize about a threesome with me, Paul Newman and Dennis Hopper in their primes, but in real life Dennis Hopper probably deserves to be ass-raped all the way to hell and back. Google “Roman Polanski” and “Dennis Hopper” if you want to know ONE reason why.

*****

Shit. I really just wanted to post a pretty picture of a flower and write about how sweet the wet grass feels swishing around my ankles but alas . . . my attitude took a turn for the worse this evening and it makes me feel a little better to leach out some of the poison. It sucks because after writing a post like this I feel relief and am able to see and let go of some of my negative emotions, but by preserving them on my blog I’m probably making other people’s days feel ugly when they came here to feel GOOD. On the other hand, I know a lot of people are feeling depressed and helpless so

Okay, this isn’t going anywhere and I have two choices: delete or publish. And since I haven’t been posting much I’m just going to hit publish because posting something crappy is better than posting nothing as long as I don’t make it a long streak of crappy posts which reminds me: do you know what happens if you eat too many cashews? We covered up the spycams in the bedroom temporarily when we got an eyeful of the orange oil slick on the mattress. It didn’t smell, it just looked like someone spilled taco grease on the bed.

JUST LOOK AT THE FLOWER AND IGNORE ALL OF THE REST! The flower is real, its greens are whiskery, and the raindrops are like the most perfect drops of fake acrylic water to make it look more real and taking pictures of stuff that looks so real that it looks like the best fake is what nature photography is all about! blah blah blah accepting hugs now.

Speaking of raindrops and Paul Newman, did you know that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Easy Rider are, like, the same movie and came out the same year? So envisioning having sexual relations with Paul Newman and Dennis Hopper at the same time isn’t really random at all.

Tonight’s ending on a very positive note that could even be viewed as a metaphor for other things going on in our lives; we finally installed a second hard drive for storage on my main work machine so I’m moving big files off my weighted-down C drive. It feels like a fresh start! Right now I’m filling up some of that space by transferring non-work photos over to this machine so I can enjoy playing with shots we’ve taken for fun/to learn about our camera.

November 20th: a buck Delia spotted in our neighbor’s backyard:

Our “new” camera (Nikon D300) has been therapeutic for me, making me stop and take time out to really LOOK and lose myself in details outside of myself. I’m not the kind of person who tries to capture EVERYTHING with a camera — I definitely appreciate being in the moment with family, friends and on vacation — but when we’re at home (which is the same as being at work unless we make a really concerted effort for it not to be) doing the daily grind it’s a big challenge for me to get out of my head. But now, when something mundane and beautiful captures my attention I feel justified in grabbing the camera, ostensibly to learn to take better photographs, and spending 5-20 minutes to really SEE and try to understand what I’m seeing: the light, the textures, the motion . . . challenging myself over what’s real and not real because it can look so different viewed with my eyes compared to how it’s captured by the camera. Immersing myself in all those different versions of truth and light and darkness and the stories we instantly create and details we insert after pulling them out of our asses when we think we’re looking at our surroundings.

Looking out our window a few hours ago:

We actually bought three 500 GB hard drives months ago for three different machines and up until today, had only installed ONE of them because of little nuisances like not having Dell’s annoying little drive “caddies”, not having serial ATA cables with the 90 to 180 degree corner jobbies so the case will close properly, me despising crawling around on the floor fucking with all the cables and cords tangled around dust bunnies, etc. If you heard me screaming last night it was when I bashed my elbow into the corner of my desk during that process. Anyway, we finally took care of it and I ordered everything we need to install a couple more on other machines.

The past couple of days I had the alarm set for 8:30 in the morning to try to get us back into a groove of semi-normalcy; at least I *thought* I set the alarm for 8:30. Turns out I forgot to adjust the ipod when the time changed so we were actually being woken up at 7:30 which just didn’t feel right. We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe I’ll even start my day by going outside with the camera.

November 2nd as the sun took a dive:

And now a couple of random notes:

*Check out Delia’s post about today being the Transgender Day of Remembrance (and way to go Governor Gregoire for signing the proclamation – the most we could have expected Dino Rossi to do would have probably been to wipe his ass with it).

*Last night I enjoyed a conversation with my wanker in which I wasted lots of time raving about this Teddy Thompson fellow and a performance we saw on Later with Jools Holland. Here it is, and it slays me:

I’ve only downloaded one of his songs (a cover of “She Thinks I Still Care”, one of my all-time faves) because there’s no way I can narrow it down so I’m trying to hold out to be able to buy some of his albums, though I will probably download his cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Tonight Will Be Fine”:

I can’t even describe how much joy a couple pots of pansies have given me. We rarely spend money on yard-stuff since we rent, but damn . . . just having a reason to go outside and water a couple bowls of flowers and inspect their tiny, perfect faces makes me so fucking happy. It did suck when we were gone last week and came home to find the deer had eaten half of them in our absence, but since pansies are so cheap it didn’t feel like a major loss:

We took most of the day off on Wednesday, AND IT WAS GOOD. We took the dog for a walk on the beach when we got up, then we came home for breakfast: eggs scrambled up with onions and softened apples (that Delia picked from the tree in our yard). It’s pretty rare that I cook any of the food we eat together (Delia takes care of all the housewifey things here), so it made me feel good to contribute in that way for once.

We also spent time outside pruning the Camellia, meaning Delia pruned while I stood there and watched, enjoying the rain that started to fall while I picked up the branches. Or maybe that was yesterday, I don’t know. I also got a headache on our day off, but since we didn’t have anything planned it felt SO GOOD to not worry about what I wasn’t going to get done and just nap instead. I’m redoubling my efforts to avoid migraine triggers, for real! I just had a minor lapse Tuesday night when I had some processed meat. Bad, Trixie!

On my birthday (Saint Patrick’s Day) we went for a walk in the woods with our dog. We’ve gotten more rain in the past week than we normally do in our Western Washington “banana belt” location, so the moss and everything seemed a brighter green edging the path.

One of my favorite things about being in the woods with Delia is the way she will point out pretty things, first using their common names and then (if I’m lucky) their Latin names. Was it a flowering quince she pointed out? I can’t remember what it was, only that it had pink buds and the water was behind Delia when she said it. I can hear the sound of the comma between the English and the Latin, even if I can’t remember the words.

As we wandered off the beaten path, Delia notified me that she found a morel:

For the rest of our walk she kept her eyes peeled for more while I just grinned feeling that fortune had smiled upon us. On me, especially.

Today she fried it up in butter and soy sauce and we shared that one small, delicious mushroom. It was better than a birthday cake. The kiss afterwards was salty and slick with grease.

The older I get the more awed I am by the weather. Or maybe the longer I work inside from my own home without being obligated to go outside at all for anything, the more STUNNING the weather is when I do take notice of it (or maybe I mean nature in general rather than just the weather). Today was gloomy all morning then POURED down rain then did the sunshine thing so beautifully that everything was dripping with wet drops of light. Here’s a photo looking the same direction as this one with snow:

A little something that the deer left us near the compost bin (and yeah, I think it’s BEAUTIFUL; I love the green in contrast to the glossy little pebble-turds):

The tunnel-like animal trail the deer take:

I interrupted my lunch-making to take those photos, then got in bed with my cooled-off soup, keeping an eye on the prettiness outside while I ate. Less than an hour later the sky and wind started hurling snowflakes at me, pelting the glass between us. It make me fucking giddy (this picture in no way does it justice, but there is that one flake you can see on the window and the obvious difference in the sky):

*****

It’s funny to compare how I feel about the weather to the way I feel about sex; I think people are entirely too excited about sex and really underenthused about the weather. I know local television news is enthusiastic about weather, but not the way I mean. I mean one or two people or some swinging couples in an RV campground hearing the rain pelting their roofs and hopping out of bed to say, “whoah! Dja hear that? WOW, look at that!!” Then everyone hugs and cuddles and gets wet. Or you hug yourself and grin and stare.

Everyone’s so fucking excited about taking pictures of naked people, but I honestly think that will get old and tiresome faster than the weather. Maybe I just feel that way because I work day in and day out with naked pictures of people. But I also have lived near Seattle for my entire 34 years so you’d think if it was a matter of overexposure I’d be OVER getting excited about precipitation. Maybe if it were my job to take nature pictures, THEN I’d be able to compare sex vs. weather on a level playing field.

I’m not saying that sex and naked people aren’t fantastic — they are — I’m just recognizing the intensity of my feelings for the weather and that I’m at a point in my life where sex seems almost ho-hum in comparison. To the weather.

Maybe it just feels good to experience and submit to a greater force that I can’t control or harness for work. I don’t know if there are a lot of surprises left for me in the realm of sex, but the weather? CONSTANTLY SURPRISES ME even though it shouldn’t anymore. And hey, have you noticed how the sun and moon are in different places in the sky every day? Even when you look at them at the same time every day, there are all of these variables (WEATHER! PLANETARY ALIGNMENT!) making them appear different all of the time. That’s fucking cool! Why don’t we talk about this more often instead of all this SEX blah blah blah SEX SEX blah sexblahblahblah?

Next up on my exciting, sexy blogging agenda: how steam locomotives are unfairly ignored and underrated by sex bloggers AND bonus entry listing the ten best new age songs to play at the planetarium!