Saturday, April 12, 2008
Found it!
If you've been reading this blog for a few months, you may remember Gap in the Record, about my misplaced (and feared lost) notebook. I couldn't imagine that I'd thrown it out, but I'd looked everywhere and no luck. Just now I was looking through a stack of clippings and other assorted bits in the "things I'm saving to deal with later" basket, and there it was, stuck amongst the stuff. None of the writing in it is mission critical, mostly just notes to myself, quotes I want to remember, book titles I jotted down at the bookstore so I could remember them later when I went to the libarary, that sort of thing; even a grocery list or two. And I'm sure I would have lived just fine for the rest of my days if it had never turned up. But I hadn't forgotten about it, there was that gap, and now it's been filled. Quite made my day.
Ant-ics
I've heard from the Bohart. Monday, Thursday and their bretheren (sisteren?) are camponutus essegi, better known as carpenter ants. Here's what Steve Heydon at the Bohart had to say about them:
"Carpenter ants are found in houses and can be a pest since they hollow out wood to make themselves a home. You should do your best to determine if the ants are coming in from the inside or if they are living in your house since they can nest either place. When you look outside, you need to check dead wood, stacked boards, firewood, etc. Going around with a flashlight in the early part of the night might help. Many ants are nocturnal."
So far, I haven't done any flashlight hunts. But given their random and singular appearance in my house, and then only on my computer table, I have a feeling that these babies may be strays from the trees around my house, lost and trying to find their way home (see the link above). (Another one showed up last evening, again as I was sitting here typing away; I saw not from whence it came.)
So I've satisfied my curiosity, but I'm kind of let down. I think I liked it better when Monday and Thursday didn't have any other name. I'll have to be content now with the mystery of just how the heck they manage to appear. My landlord may be less thrilled with the whole thing, but I guess I should inform him . . .
"Carpenter ants are found in houses and can be a pest since they hollow out wood to make themselves a home. You should do your best to determine if the ants are coming in from the inside or if they are living in your house since they can nest either place. When you look outside, you need to check dead wood, stacked boards, firewood, etc. Going around with a flashlight in the early part of the night might help. Many ants are nocturnal."
So far, I haven't done any flashlight hunts. But given their random and singular appearance in my house, and then only on my computer table, I have a feeling that these babies may be strays from the trees around my house, lost and trying to find their way home (see the link above). (Another one showed up last evening, again as I was sitting here typing away; I saw not from whence it came.)
So I've satisfied my curiosity, but I'm kind of let down. I think I liked it better when Monday and Thursday didn't have any other name. I'll have to be content now with the mystery of just how the heck they manage to appear. My landlord may be less thrilled with the whole thing, but I guess I should inform him . . .
Friday, April 11, 2008
The Masters
A minor surgical procedure early today left me with some residual mental spaciness. So, what better fit for a slightly dulled brain than daytime TV? Channel surfing, I found the live broadcast of the Masters Tournament from Augusta and have been watching it for the past 90 or so minutes.
Golf was a big presence in my growing-up life. My father was an accomplished amateur golfer who won many tournaments and, until his stroke at age 51, played whenever he got the chance. Neither I nor my sister took to the game (a deep disappointment for him, I know), but we learned a lot just by proximity, and names like Sam Snead, Ben Hogan, and Babe Zaharias were as familiar to me as the characters in my favorite books.
I don't follow golf much any more (I prefer baseball, another of my father's favorite sports and one I could participate in with him, as we were both spectators), but watching the Masters was a treat. The course, itself, is beautiful—lush, green, azaleas blooming, so, well, Southern—but it is diabolically wicked. Seeing the way the greens break, the position of the bunkers, the needle-thin fairways on some holes reminded me of nothing so much as some miniature golf courses I've hacked around; the ball never, ever goes where you want it to or where you think it should.
Despite that, a couple dozen or so players are under par following today's second round of play, about three times as many as were in that spot in 2007. The big surprise seems to be Tiger Woods' poor showing; he was even par until the 18th, when, executing a difficult shot out of the trees onto the green, he then sank his putt for a birdie. Brent Snedeker, on the other hand, is the current leader at 7 under par. But anything can happen; winds up to 25 mph are forecast for Sunday's final round.
Golf was a big presence in my growing-up life. My father was an accomplished amateur golfer who won many tournaments and, until his stroke at age 51, played whenever he got the chance. Neither I nor my sister took to the game (a deep disappointment for him, I know), but we learned a lot just by proximity, and names like Sam Snead, Ben Hogan, and Babe Zaharias were as familiar to me as the characters in my favorite books.
I don't follow golf much any more (I prefer baseball, another of my father's favorite sports and one I could participate in with him, as we were both spectators), but watching the Masters was a treat. The course, itself, is beautiful—lush, green, azaleas blooming, so, well, Southern—but it is diabolically wicked. Seeing the way the greens break, the position of the bunkers, the needle-thin fairways on some holes reminded me of nothing so much as some miniature golf courses I've hacked around; the ball never, ever goes where you want it to or where you think it should.
Despite that, a couple dozen or so players are under par following today's second round of play, about three times as many as were in that spot in 2007. The big surprise seems to be Tiger Woods' poor showing; he was even par until the 18th, when, executing a difficult shot out of the trees onto the green, he then sank his putt for a birdie. Brent Snedeker, on the other hand, is the current leader at 7 under par. But anything can happen; winds up to 25 mph are forecast for Sunday's final round.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Take me out to the ball game
Today was Opening Day at AT&T Park: Giants vs. the San Diego Padres. Gishi, Liese, Wayne and I sat in the bleachers, drank a couple of beers, ate Crazy Crab sandwiches, peanuts and sunflower seeds and had a wonderful time. Sun was shining, the ball yard and the bay sparkled, the crowd was happy, Matt Cain and Greg Maddux were dueling on the mound, and all was right with the world.
The Giants lost, 8-4, but this team in this season being what it is, we didn't expect to win, really. And truly, we didn't care; just being out there amongst all the other Giants fans in their orange and black, cheering each time one of our guys did something hopeful, chanting "Let's go, GI-ants!" and stomping our feet to encourage the team, was plenty satisfying.
And for me, a bonus: a new Giants jacket!
Right after this picture was snapped, Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow walked past us. Liese blew him a kiss, I shouted "We love you, Mike!" and he blew us a kiss right back. If we couldn't get a win, a day at the game with friends, a new jacket, and Mike Krukow was consolation a-plenty.
The Giants lost, 8-4, but this team in this season being what it is, we didn't expect to win, really. And truly, we didn't care; just being out there amongst all the other Giants fans in their orange and black, cheering each time one of our guys did something hopeful, chanting "Let's go, GI-ants!" and stomping our feet to encourage the team, was plenty satisfying.
And for me, a bonus: a new Giants jacket!
Right after this picture was snapped, Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow walked past us. Liese blew him a kiss, I shouted "We love you, Mike!" and he blew us a kiss right back. If we couldn't get a win, a day at the game with friends, a new jacket, and Mike Krukow was consolation a-plenty.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Splendor in the grass
The Tule Ranch held an open house today. Part of the Yolo Bypass Wildlife Area, it's not usually open to visitors, and the article in the Davis Enterprise promised wildflowers and birds and lots of native grassland. I wasn't disappointed.
There were docent-led walks available, but I ignored them and just wandered off on my own to the west of the visitors' reception area toward masses of goldfields and tidy tips carpeting the fields. Sat in the midst of them, sketched a small green plant or two, and took some photos, but mostly just sat, listening to the wind and watching the flowers bob their yellow heads. Coast range sharp and blue in the distance, clouds moving slowly across the sky.
On the drive into the ranch, I stopped to watch a huge flock of geese (don't know what kind) circle over a field then slowly settle back down. Closer to the road, I spotted two large, long-legged birds with extraordinarily long, thin, curved bills. Looked them up in the bird book when I got home: aptly (though unimaginatively) named long-billed curlews.I spent about two hours out there and came away feeling happy and peaceful; a mini-retreat for the senses and the spirit.
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