The Cutest Baby Bird

We were on our way out the door to surprise a friend on his birthday, saying goodbye to a guest who had spent the night and was now on his way to Colorado, by bicycle. Tom had taken the first load of things out to the car, when he called me, and pointed out a small baby bird, still slightly downy, hopping and cheeping on our walkway. It didn’t seem able to fly yet, and could only manage a few feet in a flutter.

That was interesting, and I thought maybe I’d go out and take a picture. I sat down on the sidewalk, and started taking pictures, and the little guy (girl?) started hopping toward me. I held still, delighted to be getting a close-up view, and trying not to frighten it away. I shouldn’t have worried about that. It hopped straight up to me, and cuddled in next to my leg. When I moved away, it followed me and settled in again. It seemed cold (in spite of the down coat?), and desperately cute.

The baby bird hopped right up to me and snuggled in for warmth.

Normally, I can be fairly stoic when it comes to natural selection. In nature, sometimes even the really cute little guys get killed and eaten, but then the cute little guys rarely make a personal plea. They rarely come right up and ask for a little warmth. It had snuggled up to me. It had started a Relationship.

Crap.

I know nothing about how to care for a young bird. I didn’t know what kind of bird it was, or what it would normally eat. If we fed it, would it still learn to forage for itself eventually? Even more of an issue, we were leaving for a 3 day weekend in San Diego. We couldn’t take it with us, or care for it while it was here. so, we settled for leaving an old fleece jacket on the sidewalk with the little bird, and continued packing the car. Almost immediately, the bird settled into the jacket and I was able to pick up jacket and bird and move it to a more sheltered location. Then we left.

What kind of bird is this?

We’ll never know. When we got back, the little bird was gone.

I learned later, that sometimes when a young bird is first learning to fly, it spends some time hopping and flapping furtively on the ground, with the mother bird nearby, before getting itself straightened out and getting on with its life. I choose to believe that is what happened to my little bird.

Of all the birds in Yosemite, this little brown bird is my new favorite kind of bird… or would be if someone can tell me what kind of bird it is.

Cousins at Glacier Point

On Saturday morning, after late night arrivals for both cousins, we got a leisurely start with Quiche (courtesy of Kim) and strawberry scones (courtesy of Stephanie and Tom, respectively), and then hit the trail. Fortunately, because Tom and I had left one car in the Valley, we were able to start the hike down the Panorama and Mist Trails from Glacier Point, rather than driving down in the Valley and battling for the few remaining parking spaces. The hike was wonderful.

As seems typical lately, Tom and I slipped into flower picture taking mode, and brought up the rear of our procession for the first part of our hike. I saw some purple nightshade for the first time. The Brewer’s Golden Asters were out in great numbers. Whisker brush. Monkey flowers. Pacific stonecrop. We decided that we need to keep a journal of some sort to catalog all the different flowers that we saw along the trail including things like time of year and any other interesting things. That would be a fantastic record to have.

Tom and Orestis playing funny boy games along the trail

Dinner was interrupted with the need to go and retrieve Kim’s car, from where we left it at Glacier Point, but the ice cream and the conversation was excellent. Stephanie decided to get up early instead of driving late, sneaking out of the house at 4am on sore legs and feet from hiking, only to work a full shift on her feet for the day. Next time, maybe we should try rafting instead.

Kim and Orestis spent the night in the downstairs apartment, and we got to spend a little more time with them in the morning (my actual birthday) before they took off to explore Tuolumne and maybe Mono Lake, while we settled in to clean the rental apartment for the next guests, and then curl up with movies and a bit of champagne. All in all, a very happy birthday weekend.

The steady churning of projects surrounding our new Yosemite vacation rental increased to a frenzy starting late May into early April. We have a nice stream of renters from VRBO who are planning to stay in our downstairs apartment starting on June 1, and the pressure to have everything in order by then is intense.

In addition to the furniture purchases we’ve made online, in the last two weeks we’ve made, collectively, 3 completely separate trips into Fresno for furniture and other finishing supplies for the house. We’ve bought a brown leather sofa for the living room, new comforters, sheets and bedding for the bedroom and the living room daybed that we ordered online, a sharp-looking 42″ TV, TV stand, rugs, blinds, and a multitude of other home supplies like kitchen gadgets, pots and pans. The friendly cashier at Lowe’s mentioned today that he recognized us from the previous times we’ve been in the store. We’d be a lot happier about that if we didn’t spend so much money every time we went in.

The building phase is finished. We passed our final building inspection a week ago on Friday, but we’ve hired the Roosevelt Cooks (that’s plural, Sr. and Jr.) to help us pour a separate parking pad and walkway, so that our renters will have their own space when they drive up. They framed it up in just half a day, it looks great, and now are getting ready to pour just as soon as the weather cooperates. I love hiring professionals.

We’ve also started thinking of the front yard area, and what we can do there that will be beautiful, but wild and un-manicured at the same time. We bought some Sierra wildflower seeds at a local nursery, and I hope that the yard area turns into a wild garden of color when the weather warms up. We’ve had some blissfully warm days, but just tonight there was snow again, and the Dogwoods in the yard still haven’t been persuaded to bud and bloom. This is a long winter year, and the snow is lingering.

Still, it’s coming together so fast.

Getting fit

I’ve finished the first week of a new weightlifting/fitness program, and am looking forward to decreased soreness in week 2. The first week, the bicep curls left me unable to straighten my arms, and after the leg work out, I now groan and stretch my protesting calves into a standing position in the morning before taking the first my first tottering steps. Truthfully, it feels fantastic because it feels like I’m getting stronger. Tom says that there is already some visible difference in my upper arms. My biceps are back. I’m not completely sure that I believe him, but the positive reinforcement is welcome anyway.

Tom also tells me that according to one of the fitness experts that he now follows regularly, sometimes the nutrition is the key to big breakthroughs. The expert himself is not a nutritionist, but he’s just noted over the years that often his athletes make a big jump in performance as soon as they get the diet part of the equation right. So, Tom’s concerned that the many handfuls of almonds I snack on pre-dinner, is not the winning strategy I’m looking for after all. The highly recommended 6 small meals a day (with an emphasis on protein) program is the hardest part of this fitness program for me. I’m going into week 2 with a renewed commitment.

The frozen shoulder is thawing slowly, as it tries to keep up with the other exercise. I’m up to 160 degrees of passive flexion – the same as the active range of motion in my ‘healthy’ shoulder. Still, my external rotation still needs some work, and the left shoulder as a whole is still terribly weak, although between rehab exercises and my weight program, it seems to be getting stronger quickly. I’m looking forward to making a first stab at rock climbing again. I want to try my hand (my shoulder really) on an easy boulder problem that everyone has been recommending (everything from 5.2 to V4). It’s going to be a long time before I’m climbing as hard as I used to, but at this stage in the game, I’m just looking forward to being out on the warm granite pulling hard.

Wouldn’t it be great if this summer was my summer to put all the things I’m interested in together? Backpacking, trail running, rock climbing, photography, playing the piano, art and the internet? Not to mention running a vacation rental and too many projects at work. There’s so much to do!

Swiss and Bay Area Guests

Next week, our friends from Switzerland arrive for a few weeks of mountain adventure and exploration. It’s going to be so good to see them again, and to meet the littlest Longchamp, who I think is already 3 years old. It’s strange how time moves. It seems seems mostly to slide by unnoticed, except for the size and ages of our friend’s children.

We had hoped that they would be the first guests in the new downstairs apartment, but there’s still too much to do to make them feel comfortable there, especially with a toddler. Instead, we’ll have a few more evenings of preparing, and then when more friends from the Bay Area arrive on Thursday, Tom and I are going to do the honors ourselves, and give the place it’s inaugural stay (if you don’t count the handful of people who crashed down there among the construction debris when it was still completely unfinished). It feels like we’re going on vacation, and I can hardly wait. Also, we’ll hopefully figure out if anything is missing before our renters arrive, so that everything will be ready for them when they come.

1. Blog more.

Fairy Lanterns in Hite Cove

2. Get fit.

I’m just plain sick of being fat and weak. Part of that is this ongoing shoulder injury/condition – frozen shoulder, aka adhesive capsulitis, which is getting steadily better, but more of it is an overall lack of fitness that is absolutely driving me nuts. On the way back from Buffalo, I picked up a fitness magazine with a 2 month program that will be a good jump-start. At this point, I feel like the exact program is far less important than simply starting one. My bad shoulder will have to keep up the best that it can.

3. Spend Time Outside

Living in Yosemite is fantastic, but when things get busy, I find myself inside 4 walls, staring into a computer screen, instead of taking advantage of the scenery and the outdoors. That’s about to change too. Even if it means nothing more than getting outside for my lunch times, that’s going to be on my priority list too.

Between a Sisyphusean marketing workload with DNC, a conversion optimization class that operates heavily on the you’ll-get-out-what-you-put-in principle, volunteer activities at the Valley Visitor Center for a full day once every other week, a frozen shoulder that seems to be adamant about remaining stuck, and house construction (Tom’s been going nuts, and we now have flooring down in most of the house, and appliances waiting for installation, it’s very exciting), it’s been a long couple of months between the last post and this one.

Fortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel seems to be getting closer. Two weeks ago, Tom and I met up with our friend Shauna, and skied out to the Nelder Grove of Giant Sequoias. Neither Tom nor I had ever been there before but it’s close to Shauna’s new house, and it was a perfect day and a great chance to explore. Last week, I got out for a quick walk on the Hites Cove trail to look at the wildflowers. And with those two activities as the sum total of my exercise for the last month, today Tom and I hiked up the Snow Creek trail to Mt Watkins and back. Our agreed-upon turn-around time left me a few hundred yards short of the summit, but I have Tom’s pictures from the top as inspiration for the next trip.

The skiing was brilliant and beautiful, the weather perfect, and it just feels fantastic to really get out and DO something for a whole day that doesn’t involve my computer.

It was about 11 miles round trip, with nearly 4500 feet of elevation gain, and I am bone tired and fully expect to be hobbling and sore tomorrow, but I am ever so happy. I’ll try to post some pictures soon.

In the morning, the candy would be gone – taken by the Pumpkin Prince – and, magically, in its place would be some amazing, and much-desired present. The kids thought this was fantastic – new basketball shoes, toys, whatever – and felt like gloating when the other kids had only their paltry daily ration of Halloween candy in their lunches. And the advantages to the parents? After the one-night candy-fest, the kids were happily back to eating healthy food. And then, of course, there is the Pumpkin Prince, who makes out like a bandit with all the kids’ candy, which can then be generously re-distributed at events or throughout the year.

Happy Halloween!

Me and my Vending Machine

As part of a photoshoot I participated in while I was working at the Mountaineering School, my picture was taken while I was hiking – or pretending to hike, rather – out on Old Big Oak Flat Road with El Capitan in the background. That image, for a short time, graced the cover of the activity brochure, and is now on the front of several Pepsi vending machines. My Pepsi machines, my friends tell me, are in the Village Garage, at Housekeeping Camp and maybe some other locations. Unfortunately, I’ve never really liked that picture of myself, and it’s a little disconcerting to run into such a big image of myself. I’m glad that the two machines in front of our offices have pictures of other people.

While at YMS, I also had a chance to go snowshoeing with Tom Stienstra, an outdoor columnist for the SF Chronicle, TV personality and guidebook author. Between that and his continued close relationship with Kenny, who now works only 15 feet from me, he recently decided to publish a story about me in the Chronicle. It is a story about the accident I was in nearly 3 years ago, and my subsequent recovery. It was interesting to work with an experienced journalist and storyteller, and to see the process that he went through in terms of preparing for an interview and then writing a story. Unfortunately, the online article generated a bunch of pretty negative comments, which I thought were either petty, immature, uninformed or a combination of the three, but they still left a bad taste in my mouth.

Some nice things have happened as a consequence of that story too. One was that another writer, Bill Katovsky, who is working on a book entitled Return to Fitness, contacted me about putting a short sidebar about me in his upcoming book. Again, I had the opportunity to witness the writing process of a professional author. The methods and styles of the two men are very different, but each time I was amazed to see the sometimes subtle, sometimes sweeping influence on the story I would have told, making it more dramatic and/or fleshing out details.

Another thing that surprised me was that someone who had recently been in an accident and had injuries similar to mine contacted me to find out about my experience with recovery. I was happy to report to him that so many of my issues have gotten better over the years. But most interestingly, to me, was the number of old friends who got back in touch with me after reading the article. Reconnecting with them gets me thinking about other phases of my life, and the cool people I’ve met.

I’ve gotten back in touch with some friends over the last year, since my sister-in-law, nieces and nephew convinced Tom and I to get Facebook accounts. Facebook is kind of a strange service. On Facebook, I am friends with old High School classmates that I hadn’t been that close to, even then, and co-workers that I rarely interact with in real life. And when it comes to HS friends, the day-to-day updates don’t seem to come close to filling in 20 years of radio silence. Still, I love it. I love getting little messages about what people are doing – just random news and noise from their days.

And then there are the actual conversations! I just got back in touch with my orchestra teacher from high school and she reminded me that at one point I was upset that my dad wouldn’t let me get a job. “School is your job”. I don’t remember that at all. School is an awesome job. Getting to hang out and learn things all day – I wish I’d been more appreciative when I was younger. I wonder what else I’ve forgotten.

I wonder if some day I’ll stumble back across this post and think back. Oh yeah, remember those silly Pepsi machines with my picture on them? Those were the grand old days in Yosemite.

I received an email today from my boss that had the whole office giggling out loud. We had people wandering in from the hallway to tell us that we all seemed to be having too much fun. Really, some funny emails are just worth sharing. If I had a pic of KK crying with laughter, I would put it into my list of reasons why I love my job. It happens pretty often – I’ll get that pic one of these days.

I wish I could figure out who the original author/editor is. The contents of the email is all over the internet, mostly from blogs (like this one) that are posting it up to share, but I have found an attribution. (Interestingly, I usually see it on the internet titled “Random Thoughts” but it has morphed along the way, and by the time we got it, it was “Observations of a modernist on post-modern life”.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy…

Observations of a modernist on post-modern life…

I wish Google Maps had an “Avoid Ghetto” routing option.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong.

I don’t understand the purpose of the line, “I don’t need to drink to have fun.” Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they’ve invented the lighter?

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you’re going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you’re crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase “Regards” again.

Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn’t work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ’s. We just figured it out. Today’s kids are soft.

There is a great need for sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I’ll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f*** was going on when I first saw it.

I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I’ll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone’s laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I’m still the only one who really, really gets it.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

I think part of a best friend’s job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.

A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.

Was learning cursive really necessary?

Lol has gone from meaning, “laugh out loud” to “I have nothing else to say”.

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

My brother’s Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, “Cuz we beat you, and you hate us.” Classy, bro.

Whenever someone says “I’m not book smart, but I’m street smart”, all I hear is “I’m not real smart, but I’m imaginary smart”.

How many times is it appropriate to say “What?” before you just nod and smile because you still didn’t hear what they said?

I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!

While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it…thanks Mario Kart.

MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories

Whenever I’m Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don’t mind if I do!

Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year?

If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I’m from; this shouldn’t be a problem….

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you’ve made up your mind that you just aren’t doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don’t want to have to restart my collection.

There’s no worse feeling than that millisecond you’re sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far (except the moment in an argument when you realize you’re wrong).

I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

“Do not machine wash or tumble dry” means I will never wash this ever.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There’s so much pressure. ‘I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren’t watching this. It’s only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?’

While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don’t win, they are executed.

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What’d you do after I didn’t answer? Drop the phone and run away?

I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

When I meet a new girl, I’m terrified of mentioning something she hasn’t already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.

I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it’s on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles…

As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

Sometimes I’ll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood.

I keep some people’s phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

I think that if, years down the road when I’m trying to have a kid, I find out that I’m sterile, most of my disappointment will stem from the fact that I was not aware of my condition in college.

Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn’t know what do to with it.

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey – but I’d bet my a$$ everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time…

My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day “Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?” How the hell do I respond to that?

It really pisses me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.

I wonder if cops ever get pissed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There’s nothing like being made to feel like a fat b@st@rd before dinner.

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle boils down to a book about a boy and his dogs. Edgar is born mute, to a family of passionate dog breeders, dedicated to breeding the perfect companions – selecting dogs for certain elusive qualities that make them soulmates – or something else that is just beyond defining. Trouble starts when Edgar’s uncle, Claude, returns to town. Edgar’s father, Gar, dies mysteriously, and then Claude starts to manuver into his place, capturing his mother’s (Trudy) affections. Edgar is forced to run away into the Chequamagon with 3 of his dogs – learning to survive in the woods on his own.

It’s a good read, not the kind of book that I can’t put down at night, but it moved along quickly and easily for a volume or its size. I finished the book tonight, was surprised by the ending, and am still trying to make sense of it. It will be a good book to discuss at our book club, whenever we get around to officially reading that one.

Spoiler Alert: if you don’t care

I was wandering around online, looking for Dr. Papineau’s first name, when I got distracted by a forum where someone suggested there were strong parallels between Edgar Sawtelle and Hamlet. His father dies, his mother takes up with his uncle, and then there is the matter of the accidental killing – behind drapes in Hamlet, and beyond a door in Edgar Sawtelle’s. Plus the tragic outcome is certainly characteristic of Shakespearean tragedies (except for the last chapter, which does soften the blow for me). Honestly, I don’t remember Shakespeare well enough to make my own conclusions, and this is all from the anonymous poster on the forum I saw, but I thought the idea was interesting anyway.

It’s not that I can’t start to figure out now, how someone would start to put an image like that together, but coming up with the ideas, planning the shot out, taking different images and figuring out how to put them together. Truly cool.

And while you’re there, check out some cool wildlife pics. I’m not sure some of them aren’t also examples of very clever Photoshop-ery, but they are neat anway.