Gooey Dresser 2 

My personal Toby. *$&#^$!!!!!! 

The not so baby ducks. Still 12. :) 

A turn of events

I sulked myself onto my hammock porch (No cigars for me thanks) and sat around watching life and it just sorta came. I feel so much better. It's a crazy good turn around. I even made myself an awsome dinner. Makes me happy all over just thinking about the past two hours. mmmm. . .

Not much to say - 7/17/05 Hammock Porch

A haunting song fills the air
As the wind tickles my bottle of beer
I dont know why it reminds me of you
But I'm glad that you're not here
Because then you could see the real me
I don't hide it so well these days
It seeps out through my tone of voice
And leaves etches on my face

I'm not saying that I miss you
Though I'm far away from home
And I'm not saying that I love you
Just that I don't do well alone

A storm is rolling in fast tonight
I can feel the thunder in my soul
Sometimes I flirt with lonely
But I'd never want you to know
So I imagine I see your headlights
Pulling in this dirt track
And your not saying that you missed me
Just that you want me back

So hold out your hand and I'll come to you
And I'll let you take me home
I'm not saying that I love you
Just that I dont want to be alone




Now I can face the world again. I can cook things and clean things and pack things and sand things and paint things. Its like a good long sigh.

Addendum

I thought of two redeeming parts of today. 1. The baby ducks love me. 2. Mr. Bird found himself a woman, and she is busying herself with moving in. To his credit he has not stopped singing for 5 solid minutes since the moment she said yes which makes the porch a little noisier today.

Sullen

I have been in a bad mood since, oh probly since I figured out I couldnt write more than 4 lines that went together. I had so much flowing off the finger tips and nothing worked out. Poetic impotence. Damn. The muse was there he just wouldn't stay on one topic- a babbling drunk. And really I cannot actually find words to describe what I am feeling, though Sullen is what I am acting and Damn is what I am thinking and Nothing is what I am doing.

And then there was the rabbit. Somewhere between realizing my inability to write and my refusal to accept it I went downstairs to find inspiration. I found a rabbit. I dont like rabbits. I never really have. And here he is with his cute little wiggly nose and invader in my house. How in the Hell did he make it into my house anyways. I am good and 'holding down the fort' (which i have decided is a ridiculous expression- before the bad mood). But there is this nagging thought that 1 the cat is going to eat the bunny which seems kind of cruel (not the actual eating of the rabbit cause that is natural, but pinning down a baby rabbit in a house is like feeding a deer corn and shooting it in the head) or 2 the rabbit will just die of starvation and the house will smell forever. Here I was brooding in my own problems and I have to save a baby bunny. I was pissed. Then of course the rabbit doesnt understand that I mean to save his miserable little life and he runs away. The damn thing has the gaul to run into mom's sewing room, which if you havent seen it looks like Joann Fabrics imploded (complete with a fishtank). I lost him. The stupid thing is gonna DIE in the sewing room and I cannot find him and I just felt, well, thwarted (thank you for re-adding that word to my vocabulary). I was gonna sic the cat on him but I remembered that I had already labeled that as 'cruel' and while I was feeling about as mean as ever I did not want to be 'cruel'. So I blocked the damn thing in the sewing room with some lettuce found my 'inspiration' and went back upstairs.

The muse had not sobered up. Rather the 'inspiration' focused me but the muse was snoring off the beer and would not be roused. I eventually fell asleep staring at the blackness of my ceiling.

My alarm that I forgot to shut off woke me up in the same foul mood as I went to bed and I located the rabbit in question shortly after I went down stairs and set him out in a patch of clover. (There was about a 5 minutes period while I watched him that I thought 'Just maybe I might like rabbits' but it faded pretty quick when I found one in the garden) The only problem is that I found him in the dining room and there was no way he was getting out of that sewing room without magical powers. So I may or may not have another rabbit running around in my house waiting to get eaten by the cat or starve to death. I dont know. It is very disconcerting. I also chose that moment of realization to stop caring and I went out to work on my dresser.

The RQ wanted a rabbit story posted and one must keep her happy to keep one's head. I don't think its the kind of story she wanted but there were no specifics to that end so this is all she gets. And you get to suffer through it- provided you read the whole thing.

Little bird- day 3

I didnt take any pictures today but I can report that he was showing his place off to a prospective. I don't know if she liked it or not but he is bringing in smaller pieces and grass now which is probly the equivalent of plasterboard or wallpaper.

In the field

So I started packing for Peru today and I am positively giddy. Not even really at the thought of the trip cause that hasn’t set in yet. It was more the act of pulling out my field gear and thinking ‘I get to use this soon!’ So what follows is a happy little list of 6 things (in semi-ascending order of giddiness quotient) that make me glad I am a field biologist.

6. Compass- you just feel cool using a compass
5. Field notebook- a happy little book with waterproof paper full of illegible to anyone but you scribbles
4. Waterproof pens- You can go into an artsy fartsy craft store and not feel awkward
3. Field Clothes- the most comfortable clothes I own, those t-shirts that you can’t quite retire yet
2. Waders and/or big rubber boots- I don’t know about you but I look HOT in waders
1. Flagging tape- come on who Doesn’t like flagging tape?

And as the good Dr. Boorse stated when we really over topped in the crick, ‘You know you are committed when your underwear gets involved.’

This would be the little guy singing this afternoon. Check the progress. He will be painting by Sunday for sure.

Lycopersicum esculentum

When I was a kid I usta worry about being a biologist. It just sorta seemed to me that once you figured out all the technical stuff thats all the world would be. (Kinda like when Neo figures out how to mess with the matrix ) And then all the beauty in the world would be gone. I even read an essay on it once- how scientific people lose the ability to see the world.

I donno I guess I figured out I was wrong. Instead its like the deeper you dig the more cool stuff you find out and it doesnt really stop. And I always thought my world would get smaller and I would focus in so far that I lost sight of everything else. But its really like the opposite of that. Cause when you figure out some of the details about something then you have to look all around you and say "Hey I wonder if this works the same way over here?" and then you go figure it out. (Or get a research assistant to figure it out for you- I can't wait till I get my own research assistants) And really the world just gets bigger. Never a dull moment.

And hey the random food facts come up all the time at least in my life. Like today for instance after I fed the little duckies who are not so little anymore (squeak of happiness) I wandered over to the garden. I picked myself I red ripe tomato offa the vine and ate it just like that. It was still wet from the storm this morning and it was perfect. And then you get the tomatoey bush typa smell all around you and you can hear the thunder of another storm rolling in over the hills and is just like yeah this is what summer is. One of my favorite little kid memories is pickin tomatoes during the summer and eatin them before I ever made it outta the garden.

And as I was walking around the corner to check on the progress of builder-bird I thought to myself, yah know they usta call those wolf peaches and they usta think they were poisionous and the italians didnt even have them for making sauce until after they found south america Man that musta sucked. . . . .Then I came inside and wrote it all down. -Jn

This would be target practice. I specifically mean the vermin that was trying to get IN MY GARDEN but really any object in the picture would count depending on what you were thinking. Except of course the bird house in the lower left hand corner. I know what you are thinking- "that is a lamp post' right? But your wrong. It is really a wicked cool and well constructed birdhouse. And if you will step into my accidental speaking-to-a-small-child mode I will show you what I mean. . .  

The is the door of the Birdhouse and whoever built it even wired it with electricity. He/she was really looking out for the wellfare of the residents.  

And it is conveniently crafted so that you can see the progress as the birds build. See how much has happened just today? (too much illiteration- ick I sound like a 1st grade teacher) 

These poor pictures were taken a few days ago but my camera batteries died and then the internet wouldnt work. The told me they didnt want to be by the birdhouse but I posted them anyway. So just pretend they are posted a few slots down and they will be happier pictures.



This will be a dresser. (If you are bored try to figure out how many critters you can identify. I have no clue how many there are)

And this is a blank canvas. 

And this is me excited. No really I am honest.  

Just like a little kid

Recent discovery worth noting: Cats don't like Bailey's. Not even Bailey's with a little milk thrown in. Though I will give Jazz (my cat) credit. He did at least try the mixture. Then he just gave me a dirty look and walked away. Oh well. -Jn

Rants on Toby

So I don't think I have posted this before but I am pretty sure everyone has seen it. Everyone should see it anyways. I only post this because I care. But its the sort of morbid curiosity type of care not the save the cute fuzzy bunny type of care. Honestly the site is great. Every time I go to it to check up on the furball I have a different reaction. The first time I was horrified and angry and wanted desperately to save the rabbit. The second time I was flirting with the idea that its all just a big joke- there isn't really a rabbit and even if there is they wouldn't eat it. And then I went back to look at what kinds of crap I could buy just because I wanted something random not because I care about saving Toby in earnest. Tonight I went back on a whim. The rabbit is supposed to be dead and I guess I was expecting pictures or something but I guess they got a book deal and you can preorder a book on Amazon and save the fuzzy thing from extinction. I don't know what they are putting the the book but hey why the hell not?

So tonight I was just marveling at the website as a study of people. Like the guys who made the site. I think they really do have a rabbit and one night they were sitting around drinking and someone thought it up. They were lucky enough to remember it the next day and poof Toby goes public. I think there really is a rabbit, they really did find him, and they don't actually care all that much about him, basically they will eat him. Why not? They will probly even take pictures of it but only post finished recipes and people will wonder for weeks if they really ate him or just made the stew with something else. I don't think they are bad or twisted or anything. They probly didn't think it would get this big and weren't really trying to trick people out of money but now they are on a roll so why not go with it. Typical college aged guys. I could see my friends doing it. I could see me doing it actually. (but not anymore cause I don't like to copy other peoples random ideas. It just sorta kills it)

Now look at all of the people who write in hate mails and send death threats. (They post the really good ones) Some people are mad about the extortion factor, some are mad about the rabbit death threats, some want the bunny to go to a good home some want it dead but everyone is so angry and bent out of shape. They get so angry that they use nasty words often enough to lose sense and most of the time they cant even spell. And you know they check in again and again just to get more pissed off. Its like a college prank with publicity. Honestly the more angry you get the more ridiculous you sound, the more press they get, and the more the general public enjoys the show- at your expense.

So take the people who send in money. Some are desperate and crazy and care enough about the rabbit to throw money at the guy. I don't really understand these people but I guess if you could use pay pal to donate you could just drop your 'spare change' into the save Toby dish like you do with the spinny coin droppers at the grocery store. Other people (like me if I actually had spare change) just want something random to wear around. I by shirts in the kiddy section of Salvo cause they make me laugh so why not buy one about a rabbit threat that gets national news coverage. That's right folks you have paid enough attention that NBC picked it up and ran a story on it. So go ahead, buy save Toby gear. The rabbit may just get another chance at life* and you get to strut around with pride because you are wearing controversy my friend. Who doesn't appreciate that. (and any donations of Toby gear you want to make to the Jenn is a starving college student fund I will gladly accept on her behalf.)


Still wondering why I care about this- Jn


*At the exact second I typed those words I thought of the real kicker. You heard it here first. That damn rabbit is gonna DIE before Thanksgiving (the new death date). He will just keel over and die of natural causes and no one will eat him and there will be sad gravesite pictures and everyone will be confused (and with slightly less money). End of story. Everyone goes home. That would be so depressing- like when some big game ends in a tie. . . . And it would probly serve everyone right too. Hmmm. . .

Something from past midnight

Drunk and casting blame- 7-12-05

You never meant to hurt me but hell that wont change a thing
Yah know it just sorta happens when you take back a ring
I guess sometimes the pain just sinks in too damn deep
And those are the nights I try to cry 'til I can sleep
And yeah, sometimes I drink more than's advised
But how else can I crawl out from under your lies?
And sometimes it seems I place the blame square on you
But damn it, if you were me, wouldnt you blame you too?


This one wants honest inspection and dissection. And addition or subtraction or division if necessary. I think I like it but I am not sure. -Jn

For Earl I guess. . .

Death comes packaged in pink

Death comes packaged in pretty pink flowers and bows
Soft music piped overhead and hard chairs in rows
Tissues placed aptly and a guest book to sign
While well dressed patrons, voices low, stand in line
And the children gather to collect the regrets
As old men step outside for memories with cigarettes
But the man in the back with a grief-reddened face
Looks like he hasn't slept these three days
God think of Earl when he lays down to sleep
He's got a long lonely life now with no Betty to keep

07-11-05 My living room- with tears

Lunch

Since someone I know seems to think it is ok to post about lunch I figured I would give it a whirl. Chalk this one down as a 'what I did today' post and if it bothers you quit reading.

So I decided it was time to make lunch not because I was hungry or because I looked at the clock but because I started getting shaky. (This is why I have friends- to remind me to eat regularly) So I peruse the kitchen even though I already know everything that is in there cause I cleaned it out yesterday. I suppose I should eat that left over half a can of soup even though it wasnt that good in the first place way too tomatoey. But then again those mashed potatoes are getting a little old and dry and crusty. In reality I didnt want to eat either but I felt guilty pitchin the whole bunch and I wasnt sure what I was gonna eat otherwise. I heated up the soup but while the microwaves were dancing on it I decided I wanted the potatoes instead so I popped those in. But then I changed my mind and sometime during the hemming and hawing in between the two I mixed them together. The result looked like something you end up with when you have a bad case of the flu and are on "bed rest with toast, soup, and lots of fluids" And I tried it anyways. Better than either of the 2 would have been alone (I think) and now I dont feel guilty tossing it and looking for something else to eat. It is a win-win situation all around and you even get a picture. -Jn

This probly wont show up like I want it to but oh well. A honduran artist's rendition of the landing of Columbus since he is supposed to have landed somewhere around those parts. And because we were staying at the Chris Columbus Hotel- That may also have something to do with it. The Indians are quite docile and curious in appearance and the knights are wicked perky. The boats are also in slightly better shape than one would have imagined after a lengthy sea voyage.  

Termites. . . for no reason at all 

Osito (Little bear) - Doesnt he look so cute and well behaved? 

Who wouldnt want their own freedom ship when it comes down to it? 

Mountains. 'nough said.  

Murder of One -Counting Crows

Blue morning blue morning wrapped in strands of fist and bone
Curiosity, kitten,
Doesn’t have to mean you’re on your own
You can look outside your window
He doesn’t have to know
We can talk awhile, baby
We can take it nice and slow
All your life is such a shame, shame, shame
All your love is just a dream, dream, dream
Are you happy when you’re sleeping?
Does he keep you safe and warm?
Does he tell you when you’re sorry?
Does he tell you when you’re wrong?
I’ve been watching you for hours
It’s been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I’ve been wondering where we’ve gone
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
I dreamt I saw you walking up a hillside in the snow
Casting shadows on the winter sky as you stood there counting crows
One for sorrow two for joy
Three for girls and four for boys
Five for silver six for gold and
Seven for a secret never to be told
There’s a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you’d let me in
All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream
Open up your eyes
You can see the flames of your wasted life
You should be ashamed
You don’t want to waste your life
I walk along these hillsides in the summer ’neath the sunshine
I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me
Change, change, change

You can get anything you want at Alice's Resturant

. . .excepting Alice.

This however is NOT Alice's resturant and you cannot get much here. But we do have pictures of Cheerwine in wierd places (without the mother unfortunately). Enjoy-Jn

Words to fill a void

Private Ghosts

I heard you cry out in the darkenss
And baby I wasnt surprised
You were beautiful when I met you
But with fear in those dark rimmed eyes

Does some private ghost haunt you in the still of the night?
Do past memories grab you or jump out to bite?
How long has it been since you've slept with that light?
And will you ever believe me when I say 'It's Alright'

I heard you cry out in the darkness
And baby I wasn't surprised
But there's no need for tears tonight
Cause I'm right here by your side



A few days ago, my bedroom - Jn

The 'animal' fair

I went to the animal fair,
The birds and the beasts were there,
The big baboon (J-dub) by the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair.
The monkey (Greg) bumped the skunk (Steve),
And sat on the elephant's (Shuff) trunk;
The elephant sneezed and fell to his knees,
And what became of the monk!
The monk!

Names assigned randomly because i wanted to except for J-dub because he DOES have auburn hair.

It was a good night and I got lemonade and a funnel cake and rode all the rides I wanted to and some of the rides I didnt. I screamed like a little girl more than once too, and just generally ended up feeling sick by the end of the night. I think thats the point of the fair anyways. I made the guys go with me to the petting zoo too. I asked the guy by the sheep why sheep dont shrink when it rains and he didnt know. I was VERY disapointed. Its worse than going to Chuck E. Cheese's and finding out his middle name is Entertainment. (How lame is that anyways) I didnt even get a stupid answer, I got no answer then he just sorta looked at me like i was retarded when he realized i was serious and tried to make up some cute please-the-kid answer. No thanks buddy you can keep your stupid sheep. I also got two 'compliments'. One I will keep, the other one not so much. Now I smell like fair and that in itself is making me sick. Time for bed. Now! -Jn

Pacing back and forth

The tree frogs sing in off-beat chorus
As the fire-flies twinkle dance
And sleeping songbirds snuggle closer
In nature's mid-summer romance



Somewhere in there include baby ducks dreaming but thats more cute than romantic and they were hard to hear over the treefrogs.

And I also have this problem of gathering my S's into piles even in stupid little stuff that I write at random. I bet you never noticed it before but now I will be ruined because you will see it in everything I write. Oh well. -Jn

A not so sunburned picture from the top of our little sunburned piece of paradise. It hints at the view (sans mountains) and showcases a pretty spectacular tree fence. (The idea is what shines- our tree fence leaves much to be desired including most of the trees and barbed wire) 

If only I could remember the name

These little guys are great. Real bright and kinda like bugs. They grow on vines all over our sunburned little piece of paradise. They used to use them for baby-doll eyes in Mexico (and presumably elsewhere) until the little girls started eating them and keeling over. Toxic little buggers too apparently.

This is for Dan and really only for Dan because of the Mexico trip way back when. By the way the word is black because they used electrical tape I am assuming when you could no longer read the white paint. You do what you can. . . 

Shoooooot!

I knew I was gonna have a lot of pictures to share with the masses whether they cared or not. I figured I would make it easier to stomach by posting them a few at a time and that would break it up a bit but I realized that even with little chunklets of words inbetween as captions it still all kinda flows together in one smooth mass. I don't know at this point whether I care. I am gonna post more pictures right now anyway. -Jn

Everyone and their mom owns a store. You just live in the back of your store. The thing that baffles me is how can anyone sell anything to another human being because they have the same things availible in their store.  

And if you want you can sell both pepsi and coke in the same cooler. This is a bus station and a 'pulperia' seperately but some places paint half red and white and half blue and white. Coke and Pepsi also fight for the priviledge of being the first sign you see with the name of the town printed on it. They even fight over towns that the state doesnt bother with. 

One does not find pelican skulls everyday and so they must be shared. . . or something like that.  

One very large red fish and a bag of smaller 'fresh' fish all caught by the 'negro feo' as he is lovingly called at thr gringo bar. More pictures to come when I get around to it. Someone just happens to think this one is particularly important.