Nature's creatures

Terry DeWald is arguably the top Indian basket dealer in the world and a heck of a nice guy to boot. He has always been an easy and exemplary guy to deal with.

The ex professional baseball player is lucky enough to live near the marvelous Sabino Canyon near Tucson, a part of the Coronado National Forest. Sabino Canyon is famous for having near year round water that brings in a lot of large mammals.

He sent a story and some great pictures over from his backyard.

Each morning upon awakening I like to go out on our upstairs deck adjoining our bedroom to check out the new day.  Since the creek is presently dry I first check out our fountain, which is a small 3 metate waterfall coming  from the overflow of our artesian well.  When I turned to look at it…..I did a double take….then slowly walked backwards inside and sprinted downstairs to get my good camera, telling Peggy not to go outside until I darted back upstairs.  Then we both slowly crept out on the deck and I started taking these photos.  It looked like the classic shot you would see in Tanzania of lions drinking at a waterhole.  They were extremely thirsty.  I don’t know how long they had been drinking before I first opened the door but as we stood there they drank consistently for the next 45 to 60 seconds until one peeled away, but the other two kept on drinking for another  minute or more.  Maybe they are Irish cougars.  Upon showing these shots to Josh Taiz, the wildlife biologist at Sabino Visitor Center/Coronado National Forest, he concurred that the cat on the left was the mother and the other two were her two twins likely about a year and a half old.  If you look carefully at the first two shots you can see small dimple spots on their twins’ coats attesting to their youth; as compared to the darker and more consistent chestnut coat of the mature mother.  

We could not believe they didn’t notice us. They were  perfectly lined up there, like at the drive thru at an In-N-Out Burger with the one intent of getting a cool and refreshing drink…. and nothing was going to distract them.  Josh said that a mature cougar need one deer a week to survive, and that these three cats likely were killing three to four deer each week.  Maybe less, depending on random hors-d’oeuvres in the form of poodles and fluffy cats fatally using their pet doors in the middle of the night.  After the one twin strolled to the right and stretched it came back as you can see, and then the mother caught sight of us and slowly went down into the creek bed.  Take a look at the second to the last photo to see how big her upper legs are compared to her twins (highlighted by the BLUE ARROW).  Her tail is also much beefier.  Once she got down to the sandy bottom she just plopped down and relaxed for another few minutes before all three of them slowly and silently went back into the desert.  

We’re having the grandkids over to spend the night this weekend.  

We are not going to be camping out in the backyard.  

At least until the creek starts flowing again after the monsoons.  Terry

Amazing to have three big cats in your back yard, no? My friend Paul Parker lives in Santa Fe and shared the following shots of his recent backyard visitor, a large black bear.

Kerry Olson showed me pictures of an even larger bear gingerly walking around her place in Santa Fe. I am going to text her and ask her to send them to me so that I can share them with you. She was worried that she had not locked her front door. The black bear had massive paws. I would have been freaked.

Here they are (she has even better ones):

Death don't have no mercy in this land...

I guess the best place to start is the end. Let me put this in proper context and setting for you. The time; yesterday afternoon.

I am crossing the Mojave. I mistakenly never got gas in Kingman. If my temperamental gas gauge is correct I can probably get to Barstow with about twenty miles to spare. But is the gauge ever correct? Showed about 145 miles left if I have some luck and a tailwind or two.

Sommers takes the final sand nap, Mojave

To make matters worse I only had a slight sip of water left, having a personal rule that you never take the last sip, ever. I know, I know, should have had an ample supply of water but I didn't so please give me a break. Run out of gas? Check. Die of thirst in the middle of desert? Check. Finish my novel? Damn, I never even started my novel.

Did I mention that it was really freaking hot out? How ironic that a well timed breakdown at that moment would have rendered all idle thoughts of suicide so pointless and futile... I cut the air conditioning off, if I was going to die in the desert I wanted to go out like a real man and not a pampered poodle. Parched but proud.

I ambled along steely on my journey through death's doggy door. After an interminable purgatory in the vast desert wasteland, I finally decided to cut my losses and apprehension. I stopped at the Indian clip joint in Newberry Springs for a single gallon of gas, priced to sell at a mere $4.93 a gallon. Would make my survival a near certainty. And let me make myself clear, when I say Indian I am talking red dot, not feather, although this guy may have been born on the other side of their own particular Mason Dixon line.

One of these places out here in Newberry, Amboy, Ludlow, Essexland used to have a sign behind the counter that said any complaints about the prices and you were 86'd. So you learn to grin and bear it. Take your whipping silently and skedaddle. Not like you have any options.

The gas I would say was a bargain at twice the price. I would survive and be able to live comfortably through both global warming and the next Presidential sweepstakes. I splurged for water to boot, attractively retailing in Newberry Springs for a bit over two bucks a pint. Had been dreaming about a popsicle but none could be found. I grimly settled on an ice cream sandwich but there was no way it could satiate my craving in the intense desert heat. What craven oasis from hell can't even sell a goddamn popsicle?

Did I mention that said establishment smelled like the worst abattoir in Calcutta? That the curry smell at the front door that mingled in a hellish symphony with the pungent body odor of the swarthy cashier was so strong that corpses on the Ganges would have jumped off their rafts and started dog paddling for the exits at one whiff of the place. You see there is a makeshift Punjabi restaurant next door or what passes for one in this lonely land of scorpions and crank.

Your devoted scribe will pretty much eat anything. But I would sooner suck the pig poop out of a chitlin than eat Indian food. Garam masala makes me hurl. And here I was trapped inside the desert's own fetid tandoori oven from hell.

To be continued...

The Rifters

I caught this band, the Rifters, on the plaza too, the wonderful Don Richmond and cohorts.

Flora and fauna

scrub jay

immature male black chinned hummingbird

I had less time than usual to get out and explore this year but still made do the best I could. I didn't bring my premium equipment, no room in the van and too valuable to haul around. I did the best I could with the old Sigma zoom.

The fast prime really spoils you but that's the way it goes. I took a bunch of shots up at Randall Davey Audubon Center one morning, up at the top of Canyon Road, always a mandatory stop for me. We don't get many black chins where I live and their gorget color is a gorgeous pure purple.

black capped chickadee

rufous hummingbird

broad winged hummer 

hummingbird hawk moth

On my off day I traveled up the Pecos River, stopping at the Tererro General Store. Multiple feeders, more hummingbirds than I have ever seen at one place at one time. Literally hundreds. Will take a while to process.

Went a little further up the road towards Cowles. Last time I saw red crossbills but the bounty was meager on this trip. Had too much fragile stuff in the van and decided that discretion would beat valor this time around.

Eliza Gilkyson

I caught this fine Austin based performer free on the plaza one of my first evenings in Santa Fe this month. Her father and brother were also great musicians. Very enjoyable if a bit dark.

Faces from Santa Fe

I just got back from New Mexico yesterday, did two shows in Santa Fe, the Objects of Art and the Antique American Indian Shows.

They were both lovely shows with very high quality ethnographic merchandise and excellent dealers.

Assemblage by Victoria Roberts

These shows are produced by Kim Martindale and John Morris.

I made a little money and had a good time, will elaborate when I have a chance. Ate pretty well for sure.

For now a few pictures of fellow dealers and visitors to the show. Beautiful week in New Mexico. I didn't take a lot of shots on this trip, wasn't really feeling it but will share what I got.

Soon.

J.P.

Wasn't born to follow

Tex Mex

As I mentioned, I spent a lot of my youth in El Paso. We moved around a lot but it was one of the places that stuck. My mother was a teacher there, her husband, my stepfather, worked at White Sands. El Paso is the butt of a lot of jokes and a target of derision but I enjoyed my life there and in Las Cruces the previous year. Played a lot of sand lot baseball, swam at the Blue Dolphin, absorbed the Tex Mex culture. Trips to Juarez with my family to our favorite restaurant, the Alacazar. Elmer's restaurant on Montana.

I learned Spanish from the second grade in Las Cruces and became fluent at an early age. One of the things I liked most about El Paso was the fact that there was no racism that I could see in Cielo Vista, the community I lived in. Gussie Rodriguez lived across the street, people were honestly color blind in El Paso and they integrated, probably more than they do here today in San Diego County.

I was reading an interview earlier with an Arnold Sameniego, a 40 year old who works at the Walmart and I got to thinking; My best friend up the street was Eric Sameniego and he was my age.  Maybe Arnold's dad, who knows? The age would be about right.  My heart goes out to to all the people of my old hometown.

Happy birthday, James Baldwin

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.
James Baldwin

Bill Monroe

Set up like a bowling pin

On fumes, I am ready to start another summer journey. Make or break, last roundup. Like an old bank robber, hoping for one last score and a little breathing room. Getting by ain't a whole lot of fun. Of course, it's all a matter of perspective. I could have been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at Dayton or El Paso del Norte yesterday, any of those poor folks would trade places with me in a heartbeat. If they had one. For better or for worse, I'm still in the game, so fucking sad what has happened to our country, 250 massacres in 215 days, or is it 251  292 now? You feed the crazies all that hate and then get surprised when they start acting out? Send Trump and Coulter and Limbaugh and Ingraham and Bannon and Miller and all the rest of the bastards to their own little desert island and let them play Survivor or Lord of the Flies til the cannibalism starts. I've been surviving on charity and a steady diet of near misses, removed myself from my fellows of late, no desire to talk or plumb the depths, been bingeing Daredevil on Netflix, which is way too violent but not terrible. I am usually a few years late to any party. I threw the i ching the other day, got fire on the mountain, an auspicious hexagram for a deadhead and a decent portent for a traveler. The Wanderer - Strange lands and separation are the wanderer's lot. Been using the Wilhelm edition since I was about 13 and it can be remarkably prescient. Second line changing. Long distance runner, what you standing there for? Hit the road jack, don't you come back, no more, no more...Did you know that they threw lots in the bible, both testaments old and new? Leviticus 16:8 And Aaron shall cast lots for the two goats, one lot for the Lord and the other lot for the scapegoat. Psalm 22:18 They divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots. Prov. 16:33 The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the LORD, anyway the second line changing talked about throwing all your valuables in a van and skedaddling down the road where you will meet a trusted helper, much obliged. Six in the second place: The wanderer comes to an inn. He has his property with him. He wins the steadfastness of a young servant. They call me the wanderer, Yeah, the wanderer, I roam around, around, around...

New Mexico awaits. Will let you know how it all turns out.

Booker T. Jones and the MG's

Cropper at his nastiest...

Cielo Vista

I just heard that there was an active shooter at the Walmart located at the Cielo Vista Mall in El Paso. Maybe two.

This sort of hits close to home for me. I lived in Cielo Vista as a kid from 1965 to 1968. My elementary school, MacArthur, is only two blocks away.

Still remember my teachers' names; Mrs. Fischer, Mrs. Heller, Mrs. Bingham and Mrs. Saudermeister. Used to be a nice place to live, no longer such a "beautiful view."

My one sister went to high school at Burges, the other went to the Catholic Loreto Academy. My street, Basil Court, another block or two away from the school.

Of course there was no mall back then. Not much of anything, we were on the outskirts, now it's practically the center of town.

Horned toads, an occasional desert turtle, not much else. Decent place to be a child. We weren't rich but not many people that we knew were either.

I've been gone a long time but it is still startling to hear about this. Longest time I ever stayed in one place as a kid. I guess it was home base.

 World definitely has a screw loose. I hope everything turns out okay.

***********************************************************

Brown Eyed Women

I heard this all woman Grateful Dead cover band on David and Gary's show on Sirius Radio two weeks ago. Jaded old me was captivated. I think they are great. This was always one of my favorite first set Jerry songs. Sounds awesome here. Happy belated Birthday, Jerry!

Phoenix Cross

About twenty eight years ago I bought a 15 gallon palm from Rancho Soledad Nursery in Rancho Santa Fe. They told me that it was a phoenix hybrid, canariensis x reclinata.

In layman's terms that is a cross between the rather common Canary Island Palm and the multi trunked Senegalese Date Palm.

The palm grew and grew but it was actually very ugly. It was a mountain of fronds and suckers, we called it Cousin It. Big amorphous blob.

Leslie and I cut off a lot of bottom sucker growth. It had the worst qualities of both parents, a botanic disaster. The spikes were long and lethal.

We never took the beard off the palm and it became a dense thicket. Orioles played in its protective skirting. Left it well enough alone.

Our neighbor Todd has been helping me around the house lately. Great guy and an arborist. I asked him if he could trim it up for me.

He wasted no time attacking the job. Has taken several trailer loads of fronds out.

And lo and behold, my ugly duckling is now a beautiful swan with nine trunks, topping out near twenty four feet in the air. Who knew?

In a day or two it will be finished up. I need to fertilize it, green it up but will wait until it is a little cooler.

I sent a picture to a palm expert friend who thinks it is more probably a reclinata x roebelenii cross. He mentions a lack of side shoots on the trunks and some identifying frond characteristics.

Rancho Soledad now thinks it is a straight reclinata. I sure don't. I will have to look around for a before picture. The difference is startling.

Love this headline

Hello in there

Suggested by Hudgins...

Putin's Mitch

Poor Mitch McConnell. People are putting up some very funny billboards in his home state of Kentucky. I like it when libs take the gloves off. And he certainly has it coming.

Mitch's protestations notwithstanding, he did thwart bipartisan efforts to stop the Russians during the Obama administration.

The Obama White House, swayed by enormous amounts of evidence compiled by the U.S. intelligence agencies, asked for  bipartisan support to push back against Russian intrusion.
In mid-September 2016, Obama sent counterterrorism adviser Lisa Monaco, FBI Director Comey, Homeland Security Secretary Jeh Johnson to brief top members of Congress. He didn't want to appear partisan so he sought a “show of solidarity and bipartisan unity” against Russian meddling in our democracy.
But it didn't happen – because McConnell refused. He didn't want to go public and he questioned the validity of the intelligence. He finally agreed to a watered down version that didn't mention Russia.

And of course his former top aides have been lobbying for the Russians in order to build an aluminum plant in Kentucky.

Hunter Bates–McConnell’s former chief of staff–and Brendan Dunn, who advised the senator on policy issues such as taxes, trade, and financial services–and played a key role in Republican’s successful effort to pass tax-cuts–both filed lobbying disclosures last week confirming that they were working for Braidy Industries on the development of a new aluminum mill in McConnell’s home state of Kentucky, per Politico. Rusal reportedly has $200 million invested in the project.Braidy Industries, an Ashland, Kentucky based aluminum alloys manufacturer that creates products for the automobiles is 40-percent owned by the Russian aluminum behemoth Rusal. EN+ Group is the parent company of Rusal, and Deripaska no longer owns a majority stake.
To make matters worse, Rusal was only able to procure its stake in Braidy after the U.S. granted Deripaska sanctions relief in January, relief that McConnell advocated for. McConnell previously said that the push to lift sanctions was “completely unrelated to anything that might happen in my home state.”  

Right...

Future Games

I will be the first to admit that this is not nearly as good as the version on the Fleetwood Mac album. But it is not terrible. I used to think that Fleetwood Mac meant Peter Green but as I get older I keep coming back to the playing and beautiful vocals of Welch and Kirwan, as illustrated on the albums Bare Trees and Kiln House and Future Games. What beautiful songs from this period. Bob Welch brought many of them, including Sentimental Lady, Future Games and Hypnotized. His life had a very sad ending, committing suicide after a terrible bout with spinal problems that his doctor said he would never recover from.