Another road trip

Judy and I will be driving to Monmouth, Oregon on Thursday. We'll be riding with Cycle Oregon Weekend for two days. Last year we slept in tents in Fort Stevens; this year we'll stay in the school dorm at Western Oregon University in the Willamette Valley. Should be fun.

But it's too hot here to be packing for a road trip. I'm sure I'll take all the wrong things.

Endurance riders & racers

I've been following Subarctic Jill's 2,700-mile race from Canada to Mexico, off-road, the length of the Continental Divide, with jaw-dropping awe. She's headed back to Juneau now, a very long drive, to start her life more-or-less over. This stood out: ". . . I have a whole life to move on with. Right now, I admit I feel a little amused when people tell me they're impressed with what I've accomplished. I want to tell them that life on a bike is so much easier than real life." She was mostly alone the entire way, riding 100+miles/day, in all kinds of wet weather, and she still made it in under 25 days. Awesome.

Yesterday I was pushing my little Bike Friday pedals as hard as I could, riding from the city to Menlo Park along the ridge, when a cyclist pulled up beside me and asked if I was Jackie. Yes, I said. (Not sure how she could recognize me from the back, off my Cannondale and not in Velo Girls' kit.) She gave me her name, which I remembered, but she was in a race-team kit, and she's lost 60 lbs. from when I knew her when she first started riding, and I could barely recognize her! We went on to talk about our bikes and this and that. She then went on ahead at her much faster training pace, but then she braked and waited for me to catch up; she said she wanted to thank me for the early encouragement on the Velo Girls rides, that cycling had changed her life. Made my day.

Death of a mouse and other non-news

Well damn, my wireless mouse just quit. I put in some freshly charged rechargeable batteries and it's still dead. How rude.

And just before that I went into the kitchen to make dinner and saw that it was time for the news on TV, and I again missed my little black & white set that no longer worked after the digital changeover. I gave it back to the Goodwill where I got it for zip many years ago. I guess I got my money's worth.

This cottage has high ceilings and sound doesn't reach from one room to the next and so I can't hear the TV from the living room while I cook. I live in only 450 square feet, cut up into four rooms, and I have to have a radio in every room so I can follow a story as I move around the house.

I never eat in the living room. In fact, I nearly always read while I eat and the TV is on just in case there's something important I should know that I don't already know, listening to the radio.

Grumble, grumble.

Other than that, life is good. I've been out riding one bike or another most days this week, and, today, I drove down to Burlingame for the First Sunday Velo Girls ride. Only two women showed up on this holiday weekend. In fact, there was strong evidence that a lot of people had left the area, which is weird since we live in paradise already. They were both strong riders and good company so we made short work of the route to Woodside and back.

After lunch and a shower I took my mystery book and plopped down on the couch to finish it. Sort of napped a little. Started catching up on the blogs I follow. Jill is somewhere on a mountain bike by herself, riding 2,700 miles in a race from Canada to Mexico along the Great Divide. And Pioneer Woman can eat up hours, exploring her posts. And on and on. Good stuff. Much better than trying to follow tweets and FBs. Substance.

And then my mouse died.

P.S. - Monday morning, I reinserted the batteries a few more times, wiggled them around a bit, and it lives!

Compost ready

For some time now I've been wrapping wet garbage for the compost bin in old newspaper, tying it with sisal cord---sometimes with a knot, sometimes a bow---and today I was down to the front page from Inauguration Day. I hesitated using it for awhile. And then I did the deed, but as you can see, I made sure the Obamas remained face up, away from the corn cob and coffee grounds. But I sort of feel bad about it, so I took this picture and will write about it a bit. Really, I meant no disrespect.

Growing up, my mother had a collection of "important" events. She saved newspapers and Life magazines. They'd be under the couch, or in the bottom of a drawer. She didn't do much to preserve them, to keep them from turning yellow, or from being dog-eared and worn, but they were fun to run into and read again.

I had the same sad feeling when I threw out all those old WWII papers. Maybe I shouldn't have. Life just gets so cluttered with this stuff, doesn't it?

One way, then the other

Yesterday I rode clockwise from Potrero Hill around the outer city limits. Today I did much the same route, counter-clockwise.

Big deal.

Periodical creep

I went back to SFMOMA this week to see the Robert Frank show again.
I like Mario Botta's building a lot.

It's happening again, the number of magazines coming in my mail is creeping up & up. Right now I have twelve open on my kitchen table, one on top of the other, all partially read. This month's Wired has some interesting stuff. They all do. But other than reading while I eat, who has time for so many? (I had expiring frequent flier miles I had to use or lose. I probably should have let them go.)

Next to my bed I have a half-read novel. Sometimes it moves into the living room and I actually sit and read it; sometimes I just read it during commercials on TV.

And then there's all the online news and Googling and Wiki'ing. I think I read too much. I usually have NPR on the radio, not really listening because I'm reading, but it's company, especially while I work on image files on the computer---though when I'm focused, I'm not really listening.

I used to take long baths, reading until the water got cold. I'd reach up with my toes and turn on the hot water in my too-short, but deep tub.

But now I take showers and Sibyl takes a shower with me. She's very funny looking when she's wet---and she smells like an old goosedown pillow, but only when she's wet. Pionus and amazon parrots give off a sweet, old rose, perfumey whiff. Not all the time, but when it happens it's a nice surprise.

Monday

I spent today doing bookkeeping and playing with Sibyl. Not sure why either took all day, but they did. I meant to mail my finished Netflix DVD (Weeds, Season 2) so I'd get a new film to watch now that there's nothing but reruns on television - and one can only work at a computer just so long - but I never got out of the house. My converter box and rabbit ears work for all but CBS. Too bad. I made vegetable soup for lunch, tasty, zero points, and I'm already hungry two hours later.

Detours

Since I started working with images again a few years ago I've mostly just kept what pleased me. Last year I took a spin down stock photography lane because DB said I should---and why not, I said---and was immersed in the black & white project for many months. I learned a lot of technical stuff, though not enough to play tricks---and I do want to play a trick or two from time to time---but, so far, just enough to mostly pull out what I want from an image. Not much different than working in a dark room. I still do miss the magic of pulling a print from the developer; don't miss those nasty chemicals.

Now I want to see what it is that I see beyond the obvious image.

This image has 12 people either shown directly, reflected or mirrored. Four are seen inside the window, plus the two on the bench are shadowed inside; there are four reflected on the outside of the window, plus two of the reflected figures are mirrored on a surface inside the gallery = 12. You probably need to see the high res version to see them all. I love things like that. Not everyone does. Well, maybe I should spare the blog this obscure stuff.

SFMOMA with Beverly today

"Stele I" 1973 by Ellsworth Kelly

I hauled me and my big camera down to SFMOMA to meet Beverly for lunch and to see the Robert Frank show, hoping to reshoot the north face of the building in Minna Alley (see North Face from a year ago May), but it needed bright sun at 2:45 to get the same strong shadows and that didn't happen.

As an unexpected bonus, we also saw the Ansel Adams/Georgia O'Keefe exhibit.

After walking and standing and looking at both those shows my back hurt (I'm not a museum lover) and we went to see the new roof garden. I'd call it a sculpture garden. I liked it.

Bev caught a bus and I rode up to Front & California to watch Swoops dive bomb people when they walked under his nest tree. Videos of the action have been making international news. (This photo is from the blog about him and is titled "This bird is pissed.")

Back to my (immediate) future

So, it looks like I was the Missing Link again! Been such a long time without a new post, my "fans" will disappear!

It's good to be home after two weeks in Seattle. They had a weird heat wave and no rain the whole time I was there. Read four trashy novels. Did a lot of casual riding with DB, took boring pix which I haven't even looked at yet, spent four days on Orcas Island doing the same. They really do have too many trees and green, green, green everything up there.

Sibyl is glad to be home, too. I was asked for some high res images of her for a national magazine (no money involved), showing her specific specie's features (Pionus senilis) and I'm sending the one above and some others where she's less hidden.

I'll go get the Freds (western painted turtles) from Jill's today. The 3-toed box turtle, Hercules, is doing fine in his little yard, apparently finding the well hidden snails I import for him.

And so it's back to the routine here. Not sure what's next. . . .

Found at last

When I was a kid it was a great joke to ask me if I was the Missing Link, so popular in everyone's imagination. So it was with great relief that I saw the news story today that the missing link has (probably) been found. Here's the scientific report in PLoS One.

Hard work

On my way to Fairfax early this morning I stopped at Vista Point to see the Lone Sailor; he's still keeping his silent vigil.

I started riding up Mt. Tamalpais counter-clockwise from Fairfax, meaning to meet the Velo Girls who would be riding from the Presidio, through Mill Valley and over East Peak (clockwise), and then we'd ride together back to my car, which would then be available to sag back to the city, if needed.

Getting to the turnoff at Ridgecrest was definitely the most hill climbing I've done in one stint in a long, long time and it was very hard. For one thing, there was no warm up leaving from Fairfax before the unrelenting climb - and then after Alpine Dam, more of the same.

(The last time I went on this ride it was in the rain and fog and I missed the turn at Ridgecrest, ending up in Bolinas, adding lots of miles to get back via Shoreline Highway. )

I found the left turn from Bolinas Rd. easily enough (though I didn't see a sign for it), and I waited for them to arrive, but when they still weren't there by noon, I decided to ride back to Fairfax to get the car and drive back looking for them, a little worried, though mainly I was just tired of waiting.

I got an iced coffee, used the much needed restroom! and drove back up the mountain where I found them regrouping about 4 miles out from Fairfax. They'd had one misadventure when a bee went into a rider's helmet and she fell, smack in the middle of traffic. No one needed a ride so I went on over the mountain, taking an hour to get down to Mill Valley. Spectacular views along the ridge.

After my shower, Jill took me out to dinner for Mother's Day.

Good day.

Singin' in the rain

I knew no one would show up for the First Sunday ride this morning: it was, if not raining, very wet outside. But I just felt like getting out in it and so I put all my rain gear and my bike in the car and drove down to Burlingame where I started riding in the rain.

And if it wasn't on-the-radar-map rain, it was very, very heavy mist, because my glasses needed windshield wipers and I had a rooster-tail. Every once in a while it would clear up for a few minutes, but it stayed that way for nearly the entire ride.

You know that part of the Gene Kelly number where he's stomping in the puddles, singing in the rain? That's what I feel like every single time I get out in it. Like I'm for sure getting away with something deliciously wicked.

Pedaling along, with just Me, Myself and I for company, I started trying to remember the details of this or that days-long ride in the rain on my travel adventures.

I thought about my very first bike touring experience in early May 1984. I'd gone into the VVV in Amsterdam and within ten minutes they'd set me up with a self-supported bicycle tour, with vouchers for various hotels and meals, and directions that I swear were translated from the Dutch to English by Japanese---they made almost no sense.

Every day it rained and every day I'd be lost on some bike trail, too early in the season for the signposts in the shape of cement mushrooms to have been repainted, in a country so flat that there were no visible landmarks and no sun shadow to tell directions, and I'd laugh because I knew I would eventually run into a train station or a village and sort myself out.

Oh but it was so cold. I'd bought a Dutch rainsuit in Arnhem, but I finally shoved newspapers under my sweater to stay warm. Sometimes I'd come across a working windmill, grinding grains, and be given a tour inside. Every village had something happening, like a noon-time organ concert, always Bach, in the open church, or a farmers' market, or people sitting out with their coffee and paper in the brief break between rains. I paid extra for a 3-speed rental bike; on the last day I went up over a highway overpass and finally used a lower gear. Every day I'd say to myself, it's only fresh water (those were my sailing years; salt water is so much harder to deal with!).

And I was hooked. The next time I had my own bike and my own maps. It's all good, rain or shine.

Well, it was a good ride this morning, but afterwards I had all my wet stuff to hang up after a warm shower. And no matter how good your rain gear is, you will be wet inside it. Warm wet. Cozy wet.

Easy riding

Taking it pretty easy the last two riding days: Judy and I rode the Sawyer Camp Trail yesterday, and this morning I met the Mellow Velo for the Woodside out & back. Tomorrow I will ride Sunday Streets along the waterfront which will be closed to cars for the day. Not much else going on around here, just reading, watching DVDs or TV, going to classes, cleaning Sibyl's messes and stuff like that. Easy riding.

Hot day & Hercules sighting

This guy hadn't been seen for weeks and wasn't even eating the blueberries I put out (can only pray he's been eating the snails brought to him from a park across town by my neighbor), but since it's so hot I watered his yard this morning, and he liked that. He went to his little pond for a long drink. But he still didn't eat his new berries.

I went out today with just my little point-and-shoot camera, and if it wasn't so friggin' hot, I could go back with the big camera and long lens to get Willie McCovey Hitting Into the Sun again, this time with a crowd in the stands. (But I think I'd still like my old shot of Willie, without the people in the stands, better.)

That's my old touring Miyata in the foreground. After being off the bike for two weeks and riding 36 fairly hilly miles yesterday, my legs were none too happy today. What's with that? All those miles and miles two weekends ago were for naught?

It's 82 here in my house and very hot in the sun.

There will be many sunburns from today, some probably serious.

Three days and the fog will be back.

Seattle times

The sun was out for my last two days in Seattle with DB and we went to the locks and to Gasworks Park. And now the sun is shining in San Francisco, the winds of earlier this week have died down and I want to get on my bike, not sit here trying to write about my trip. . . .

. . . but instead I got groceries and cleaned Sibyl's boarding cage and cooked artichokes and worked on a couple of Seattle images. Tonight is the symphony, and then I get up early tomorrow to ride to Pt. Reyes Station with the Velo Girls.

Hope rides on

Today I actually drove my car downtown, parked at the Sutter-Stockton garage and walked around Union Square for a bit before going to see my opthamologist in the art deco, 450 Sutter building. This billboard stopped me in my tracks. Love it.

Yesterday, while working here at the computer there was a scintillating spot marring my vision. At first it was in both eyes, and then it got bigger and weirder - a flashing football shape obscuring my vision - but at that point, clearly only in my left eye. I called my internist first because if it started in both eyes I thought it was a brain dysfunction more than an eye problem, but they had me call the eye doc. By the time I'd been on Hold at both offices, the flashing football moved off to the periphery and then disappeared - within 30 minutes it had come and gone. My exam today confirmed that it had been either an ocular or retinal migraine or, in other words, a vascular spasm affecting my vision. This is pretty common and no biggie - which is what I thought yesterday when it quit and I felt fine.

I'm packing up to visit DB in Seattle for a week or so. Maybe there will be some red tulips there.

Miles & miles

Last Friday I met Theresa at the Ferry Building and we rode back to Larkspur, where we ate lunch. I planned to take the ferry home, saving my legs for Saturday's 67-mile Cinderella Classic, but as I was pedaling into Larkspur Landing I could see the ferry pulling out, the next one not for another hour and a half, too long to just sit there. I rode back home, a 48-mile round trip.

Saturday I got up at 05:00, Diane picked me up and we were off and pedaling by 07:40. At the first rest stop I learned my friend and riding buddy, Sarah, had taken a bad fall and was on her way to the ER with a head injury. The next twenty miles were very hard. I wasn't sure I would make the whole ride and was just pushing grimly through it. And then at the last rest stop I was able to talk to Sarah and know she was OK. The last twenty-plus miles just flew by. What a huge difference attitude makes! I was pleasantly tired when I got home, a bit wind and sun burned, but otherwise fine.

Sunday was my regular Velo Girls' First Sunday ride and I had to wonder if I'd have any zip left in the legs, but there were two experienced and three inexperienced riders and I could ride at a reasonable pace for the 42-mile Strawberry/Tiburon loop from the Presidio. One rider lost her chain on that ugly steep bit getting out of the bridge parking lot and fell on her elbow hard enough to turn back. Another took the ferry back from Tiburon, but the rest of us had a great - and most unusual - tailwind the whole way back. If it hadn't been for so many tourists, the bridge ride back would have been outrageously beautiful. Well, I don't begrudge the tourists; I can share.

So. That's 157 miles in three riding days. Reminds me of touring, but without the heavy load. And today I feel better than I've felt since last summer, really great. I guess I'd better keep it up, lots of riding seems to suit me.

This day

I'm so disappointed by yellow tulips. They really just bore me. Yesterday, I rode all the way over to the beach to check them out again. I even planted my butt down on the wet cement to get them in the foreground. And then I went to the de Young to see the Yves St. Laurent show before it closes, and I'm glad I did. Great stuff. Really.

Today I cleaned my cottage of Sibyl's mess (and mine), vacuuming and cleaning, but just superficially. I was going to ride 50 miles, but last night I had a sore spot in my mouth/throat/neck/ear either from a virus (boo, hiss) or maybe one of those gum injuries that make things hurt. Well, I don't feel sick so I guess it's a gum-thing (probably from brushing too hard). So I spent the afternoon working with pixels again, instead.

It was nice to hear from folks on the peninsula that they have an endless supply of snails. I may have to go south on a collecting trip. Hercules disappeared again, perhaps because he's waiting for his dinner to reappear.

No escargot for Hercules

Last year at this time my neighbor Barbara brought me 45+ snails of all sizes for Hercules, my box turtle. This year she could only find two large and one tiny snail. I could find none in the yards around my cottage. This is very, very disconcerting.

Why no snails this year?

I'll have to feed him chicken.

He came out of hibernation sometime in the last two weeks. I saw him twice sunning himself this week. There was mud in his water dish where he'd soaked. I ran out and bought him blueberries at Trader Joe's ($2.99 vs $6.99 at Rainbow Grocery).

My mood takes a huge swing up when I see Hercules in the spring. I'm so relieved he made it through another winter, buried in the ground somewhere in his little yard.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow I will get up early and ride down to the Ferry Bldg., where I will take a ferry to Larkspur, where I will meet Theresa to ride around Paradise, and then I will ride all the way home. I haven't been riding for three weeks, thanks to rain, rain, and more rain. I can hardly wait.

Chasing tulips

I got there too late this morning for the right light and was again disappointed by the display this year - though if you like yellow, this is your year. There's a window of sun that comes between the large cypress trees, and I missed it.

It was good to turn the pedals on a bike again today. Yesterday, Diane and I drove all the way to the far south bay for the Velo Girls' ride, hoping for a break in the weather. It was raining when we got there, but worse was the intense spring winds, and so we turned around and headed back home. And, wouldn't you know, as soon as we gave up the sun came out for the rest of the day. We got to see the beautiful green hills at 70 mph instead of fifteen. (More like 5 mph headed into the wind on a bike for me!)

I hope they plant red bulbs next year. I really want to replace the too-low resolution JPG files from two years ago. I loved the red tulips and yellow Icelandic poppies that year.

Rain, every weekend?

I'm going stir-crazy. No ride last weekend because of rain, and then I spent the week on other stuff. Now it's supposed to rain again tonight and tomorrow, once again interfering with the Velo Girls Cinderella Training Rides! Not fair.

I could have gone riding today, though I didn't know it wouldn't rain - it sure looked like it was about to all day long. I pulled a few weeds, but mainly I sat here and copied old image files to rework to try to sell. No wonder I'm getting a big butt.

We're hoping to delay the ride start until late morning, when perhaps the sun will come out, after all. Got my fingers crossed and getting my gear ready, just in case.

Back in business

My internet connection disappeared on me yesterday while listening to a podcast. It took all day yesterday and some of today to get my DSL line back. You know the drill: tracing every line, switching and checking every piece of equipment, replacing the modem at great cost, and finally ordering the truck to come out and check the ISP's line....and after umpteen calls, it was indeed their line that failed. I took the modem back for a refund, so all I lost was time, lots of time, and aggravation.

I can still process old images, like this Darth Vader-like sculpture in front of St. Germain des Pres, but to research the keywords to put it up for sale (as if someone in cyber-world will buy my work) I need the internet. It took some doing, but I found the sculptor, Ossip Zadkine, a Russian living and working in Paris until he died in 1965, and the name, 'Promethee,' 1955/1956.

A Wild Parrot & more about Hirsute Portraits

I hadn't been hearing or seeing the wild parrots very much lately, but spring is almost here and they'll be entertaining us along the waterfront again. This guy was having words with a crow as I was riding along The Embarcadero yesterday.

Off & on all day today, I've been researching the odd painting I put here two days ago, thanks to my friend Dianna's insistence on knowing more about the subject. If one is persistent, one can find anything via Google - and this took many links before I finally got to it. I started with "hirsutism in children." When I added "France," I got to a page in "France for Dummies," giving me the location and title of the painting, "L"Hirsutism" at the Chateau de Blois, but nothing else. I saved their reproduction in order to get background information, and from there I found another name, Antonietta Gonsalvus - which led me to her father, Pedro Gonzales (Petrus Gonsalvus), from the Canary Islands. So, that poor creature is a young girl, painted in the court of a king.

Based on documents, this painting is the portrait of Petrus Gonsalvus, born in 1556 on Tenerife. As a child he came to the court of the French King Henry II, who became his tutor. Petrus Gonsalvus and his family, especially his hirsuite children, were popular objects of medical research in these times. Now doctors found out that their 'odd appearance' was the results of a sickness, known as hipertricose.

...and I just keep finding more interesting links, like this blog about Musica & Arte by Ninon.

I meant to work in the yard or the basement today, not stay sitting in this chair!