(no subject)
This Is My Life, RatedLife:
6.9Mind:
7.4Body:
6.5Spirit:
9.6Friends/Family:
5.2Love:
3.1Finance:
6.9Take the Rate My Life Quiz
Yeah, that's me. Please refer to me as Mahatma Berby and/or His Holiness. Oh, and help get me laid. According to this, I need to get laid. Not enough laying going on in my life.
This meme brought to you by eHarmony, the Christofascist dating service. (Okayfine, they aren't Christofascist. Just bleah.)
Another week has gone by. How in hell's name did that happen? Where'd the time go? I can look back and see a lot of the junk I got done, things put away, bills paid, letters written, clients chased, dogs walked. A catalog of the pedestrian things any soul does to keep their life going. And I have no complaints, really, other than the usual. More time, please. And stop the self-serving guilt stuff; that sucks, it's pointless.
My friend p0g0 will be pulling in frightfully early this morning. This is fine. pencil_rain and jywldragon's wedding isn't until Sunday. My next work deadline isn't until next Friday. Honest, really, there's plenty of time for everything. Stop worrying. Dude. Are you listening?
Last weekend was the Great Open House, otherwise known as the Remodeller's Home Show. The upstairs refit was officially completed last Thursday. My GC roomie managed to snag a couple of nice paintings from gallery owners he knows. One of them was a mediocre Tuscan village print that matched the kitchen palette. The other was an oil of a crowd scene with train, circa 1940-noir/atmospherical over period, if that makes sense. It wasn't one of the dude's best. He's a former Dreamworks AD living up here somewheres, a coworker of Ron Lukas, and possesses some serious painting chops that weren't all in evidence in the painting Joe picked. It was still pretty. It made me wonder about the fine art world for the umpteenth time. Whenever I see stuff that I *know* I can do, I wonder about myself. Should I set aside time and give it a shot? Maybe. Look at me, ma, using LJ like it's a real journal or something, babbling freeflow thoughtporrige. Spoon up, yo.
My job for the Remodeller's Show was to get the pups out of the house. Saturday's Adventure: Over the mountains and through the woods. We went east to Leavenworth and worked our way Westward, dog-friendly park-by-park. One place just outside of Schnizleville was built on the remains of the turbines used to push trains through the old railroad tunnels. It was an easy hike, mostly flat with occasional scree to negotiate. We were warned at one point by some well-meaning folks that there was some fresh bear scat up ahead, and who knows, the dogs might go wild over a whiff of a dhiarritic ursine's intestinal leftovers, so WATCH OUT. I did. And of the four of us (yep, Echo was in tow, too), I was the only one who spotted the splatter. Don't know if this reflects badly on the dogs....or me.
Saturday past was a beautiful day. A perfect Shabbos day. Bright and clear and cold, with the wind making castanets of the leaves on the trees. You could spot the deciduous ones by the intense splashes of color among the evergreens. There was a stand we encountered on our second park-stop, what kind of tree I don't know, but the leaves, man, the leaves were this saturated canary yellow. Wired neon yellow trees, shivering in the breeze.
Long day, Saturday. We came home whipped.
Sunday was rainy and gray, a typical Northwest autumn day, but we went out anyway. This time I took 'em north towards Camano Island, Deception Pass and Padilla Bay. A strange thing happened. Every time we went from one park to another, it rained. Once we reached a place to hike, it stopped. Fortuitous, Dear Watson. All three pups loved the beach at Deception Pass. Echo barked at the high-tide marker, and at a couple of suspiciously-shaped pieces of driftwood. I tried to get him to fetch the telephone pole floating in the surf but he would have none of it. I guess it's got to fit easily in the mouth to be worth a shot.
At least he didn't eat any shit.
Our last stop was Padilla Bay, a place I will most assuredly be taking spacehyena and lyosha when they come up next summer. It's easy walking, the estuarine portion is all flat and gravelled and stuffed with wildlife. We sent a Bald Eagle flying right at the start. I stopped counting all the Great Blue Herons once I hit a dozen. There were scads of them in a nearby field. Once they fold their wings they blend in perfectly; it's a little spooky when camo works so well. There were Merganzers and God knows what-all, I know birds like I know car parts. We were serenaded by a trio of Sea Otters at one point, which made me think of areitu, kamenkyote and kaputotter, among others. They sounded like they were channelling Walter Matthau, bobbing in the water and grunting at us. Saw a harbour seal, too, who found us equally fascinating.
Tonight I relax, draw, clean a little and I will not worry about the rest. It's Shabbat. I'm done. This weekend will be the wedding, which is cause enough for celebration. There'll be Mike, too. Good news all round.
6.9Mind:
7.4Body:
6.5Spirit:
9.6Friends/Family:
5.2Love:
3.1Finance:
6.9Take the Rate My Life Quiz
Yeah, that's me. Please refer to me as Mahatma Berby and/or His Holiness. Oh, and help get me laid. According to this, I need to get laid. Not enough laying going on in my life.
This meme brought to you by eHarmony, the Christofascist dating service. (Okayfine, they aren't Christofascist. Just bleah.)
Another week has gone by. How in hell's name did that happen? Where'd the time go? I can look back and see a lot of the junk I got done, things put away, bills paid, letters written, clients chased, dogs walked. A catalog of the pedestrian things any soul does to keep their life going. And I have no complaints, really, other than the usual. More time, please. And stop the self-serving guilt stuff; that sucks, it's pointless.
My friend p0g0 will be pulling in frightfully early this morning. This is fine. pencil_rain and jywldragon's wedding isn't until Sunday. My next work deadline isn't until next Friday. Honest, really, there's plenty of time for everything. Stop worrying. Dude. Are you listening?
Last weekend was the Great Open House, otherwise known as the Remodeller's Home Show. The upstairs refit was officially completed last Thursday. My GC roomie managed to snag a couple of nice paintings from gallery owners he knows. One of them was a mediocre Tuscan village print that matched the kitchen palette. The other was an oil of a crowd scene with train, circa 1940-noir/atmospherical over period, if that makes sense. It wasn't one of the dude's best. He's a former Dreamworks AD living up here somewheres, a coworker of Ron Lukas, and possesses some serious painting chops that weren't all in evidence in the painting Joe picked. It was still pretty. It made me wonder about the fine art world for the umpteenth time. Whenever I see stuff that I *know* I can do, I wonder about myself. Should I set aside time and give it a shot? Maybe. Look at me, ma, using LJ like it's a real journal or something, babbling freeflow thoughtporrige. Spoon up, yo.
My job for the Remodeller's Show was to get the pups out of the house. Saturday's Adventure: Over the mountains and through the woods. We went east to Leavenworth and worked our way Westward, dog-friendly park-by-park. One place just outside of Schnizleville was built on the remains of the turbines used to push trains through the old railroad tunnels. It was an easy hike, mostly flat with occasional scree to negotiate. We were warned at one point by some well-meaning folks that there was some fresh bear scat up ahead, and who knows, the dogs might go wild over a whiff of a dhiarritic ursine's intestinal leftovers, so WATCH OUT. I did. And of the four of us (yep, Echo was in tow, too), I was the only one who spotted the splatter. Don't know if this reflects badly on the dogs....or me.
Saturday past was a beautiful day. A perfect Shabbos day. Bright and clear and cold, with the wind making castanets of the leaves on the trees. You could spot the deciduous ones by the intense splashes of color among the evergreens. There was a stand we encountered on our second park-stop, what kind of tree I don't know, but the leaves, man, the leaves were this saturated canary yellow. Wired neon yellow trees, shivering in the breeze.
Long day, Saturday. We came home whipped.
Sunday was rainy and gray, a typical Northwest autumn day, but we went out anyway. This time I took 'em north towards Camano Island, Deception Pass and Padilla Bay. A strange thing happened. Every time we went from one park to another, it rained. Once we reached a place to hike, it stopped. Fortuitous, Dear Watson. All three pups loved the beach at Deception Pass. Echo barked at the high-tide marker, and at a couple of suspiciously-shaped pieces of driftwood. I tried to get him to fetch the telephone pole floating in the surf but he would have none of it. I guess it's got to fit easily in the mouth to be worth a shot.
At least he didn't eat any shit.
Our last stop was Padilla Bay, a place I will most assuredly be taking spacehyena and lyosha when they come up next summer. It's easy walking, the estuarine portion is all flat and gravelled and stuffed with wildlife. We sent a Bald Eagle flying right at the start. I stopped counting all the Great Blue Herons once I hit a dozen. There were scads of them in a nearby field. Once they fold their wings they blend in perfectly; it's a little spooky when camo works so well. There were Merganzers and God knows what-all, I know birds like I know car parts. We were serenaded by a trio of Sea Otters at one point, which made me think of areitu, kamenkyote and kaputotter, among others. They sounded like they were channelling Walter Matthau, bobbing in the water and grunting at us. Saw a harbour seal, too, who found us equally fascinating.
Tonight I relax, draw, clean a little and I will not worry about the rest. It's Shabbat. I'm done. This weekend will be the wedding, which is cause enough for celebration. There'll be Mike, too. Good news all round.