a very wet wednesday

It's a dreary day. Everything is gray and even the colors of the leaves on the ground are murky and somber. My jeans are soggy and the pups are wet after our walk and smelling like...wet dogs. The sky is dark and the wind is blowing outside. It's cozy in the house with all the lights on and a fresh cup of coffee in my hand, but now I have to make a run for the studio and dodge those huge fat raindrops.

Drop by later for a peek at what I'm working on in the studio...

tuesday

Wishing all those vets out there a peaceful Veterans Day.

England, 1945

My dad is second from left...and I think that's Radar O'Reilly's dad far right.

USS Ranger, Vietnam 1970
That's Dave in the middle.

thursday's photo

I'm not usually prone to public displays of patriotism, but this week's election has left me feeling particularly proud to be a citizen of this country.

and there was dancing in the streets

I'd been holding my breath. For a long time. A very long time. Last night I was finally able to exhale, and I can't tell you how good that first breath of fresh air felt.


Watching the election results with our rag tag Obama posse at a friend's house was tense at times. We flipped from CNN to NBC to Comedy Central, trying to get truly fair and balanced coverage.


Sometimes we gathered around the computer, getting results county by county.


Other times we concentrated on more important things, like taking turns cuddling newborn babies. Mostly, we were on the edge of our seats.

And then, at 8:58 PM (PST) it happened. CNN projected that Barack Hussein Obama would be elected the 44th President of the United States of America. The first African American President of the United States of America.


A few minutes later, our good old friend John McCain made a very nice concession speech, praising Obama and his people.



We broke out the Obama cake


We toasted our good fortune and bright future


And then we danced outside in the rain.

Inhale. Exhale. Ahhhh.

take a stand

Have you voted today?

something to consider

Dear Red States:
If you somehow manage to steal this election too, we've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us. In case you aren't aware, that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. It may even include Florida and Ohio, as they are seriously considering it. We have given them until November 4th to decide. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country which will be known as Nuevo California. 


To sum up briefly:
You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the former slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches.
You get Dollywood.
We get the Statue of Liberty.
You get WorldCom.
We get Intel, Microsoft and Apple.
You get Ole' Miss.
We get Harvard.
We get 85% of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs.
You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue.
You get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22% lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families.
You get a bunch of single moms.


Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. We do wish you success in Iraq , and hope that the WMDs turn up eventually, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.

With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80% of the country's fresh water, more than 90% of the pineapple and lettuce, 92% of the nation's fresh fruit, 95% of America's quality wines, 90% of all cheese, 90% of the high tech industry, 95% of the corn and soybeans (thanks Iowa!), most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy League and Seven Sister schools plus Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.


In the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88% of all obese Americans (good luck with those projected health care costs), 92% of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100% of the tornadoes, 90% of the hurricanes, 99% of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100% of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.

We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.

Additionally, 38% of you in the Red States believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62% believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the war, the death penalty or gun laws, 44% say that evolution is only a theory, 53% think that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61% of you crazy bastards still believe you are people with higher morals than we lefties.

Finally, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.

Peace out,
--Blue States

Note: I can't claim authorship of this, but I thought it was so great I just had to pass it on!

the leaf people

Our neighborhood is a place full of giant old trees: elms and big leaf maples, oaks and walnuts and sweet gums, chestnuts and birches and alders (oh my!). Along with all these big, wonderful old trees come huge amounts of leaves.


It's fall, and certain sounds dictate a call to action around here. The sounds of heavy equipment and the buzzing whine of tractor tires zipping over wet pavement makes everybody jump.


The city sends out a battalion of huge dump trucks, water trucks, street sweepers, and tractors outfitted with scoops to pick up the leaves. They're supposed to just be here to take care of the leaves that fall naturally into the streets and clog the sewers, and causing a dangerously slippery surface when wet.

Supposedly, the individual homeowners are responsible for raking and bagging the leaves that fall on their property and the sidewalk. However, when everyone hears the leaf people coming, the phone trees start lighting up from block to block, passing along the message: "they're coming!" Thus begins the mad Sunday morning dash to rake all the leaves into the street before they get to your block.


While people scramble to move their cars, the scoopers zoom down the street, pushing the leaves into giant piles in the intersections.


The dump trucks move in and wait for the scoops to come back and fill them with leaves.


Before long, the water trucks and the street sweepers blow by, scrubbing up the remnants.




Just another quiet Sunday morning in Oregon...