My homies

Our new deck is nearing completion. We'll get the railing on next week, so this was our last chance to trespass and get this shot.

It goes without saying that I have the best staff in the world, but I like to say it anyway. They are all, without question, good people. Rather than hire good salespeople, we hire good people who are skilled at sales. It's more effective, more fun, and ultimately, much easier. I would be happy to go on a long canoe trip with any of them.

The deck is now three weeks behind schedule. Never hire a large firm for a "small project," you aren't important enough to them to get priority.

National Park Signage

My friend MK has a cool blog and she just posted a thing about weird signs found in the outdoors.

I thought about a few good ones from the trip Ian and I took a few years ago. He's a foot taller and his voice an octave lower. Otherwise, same goofy kid.

Apparently there is only one rattlesnake at Agate Fossil Beds.

Ian was smart and did not approach the bison.

Until this, I never knew we had a national grassland. But it's really cool.

I lost the picture of the sign telling tourists not to ride the bison, and also the sign telling tourons (tourist-morons) not to step off the walkway on a geyser basin as they might fall through into the scalding water. Then I saw a dumb young woman step off the boardwalk to take a picture of the sign saying not to step off the boardwalk. It's pretty graphic.

Crustaceans, Part II

Gil was lonely and needed a friend. So Ian made a lobster. Ian did most of the welding. He's getting pretty good at it.

PAC Wars VI - Return of the Clinton

"Yes.....the hate is swelling in you now. Take your PAC money. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant. Young fool, only now, at the end do you understand..."

If I were a Jedi in Florida or Michigan, I'd be looking for a transport to a remote star system.

Caveats and Disclaimers: Yes, I know, Star Wars is not real. Yes, I know Hillary cannot summon lightning from her fingertips. But you gotta admit that's really cool.

Larger Scale Thinking...

"Compassion is the ultimate attitude of wealth: an anti-poverty attitude, a war on want. It contains all sorts of heroic, juicy, positive, visionary, expansive qualities. And it implies larger scale thinking, a freer and more expansive way of relating to oneself and the world.

This is precisely why the second part of the Buddhist path, or yana, is called the 'Mahayana,' the 'Great Vehicle.' It is the attitude that one has been born fundamentally rich rather than that one must become rich.

Without this kind of confidence, meditation cannot be transferred into action at all.

- Ogyen Drodul Trinley Dorje

What a lovely sentiment...we are all born rich. It makes me think about the stark contrast between my role models and those who are considered rich. Jesus - rich. Buddha - rich. Gandhi - rich. Mother Teresa - rich. St. Francis - rich. None of these people actually owned anything of monetary value. In fact, many of them gave up their worldly posessions to repossess their innate riches.

Now pick up a People magazine at the checkout at the grocery store. Not a single rich person. All totally impoverished. I don't see compassion on their faces, I see sadness and emptiness.

I have nothing against wealth; it's a powerful tool. Controlling resources means you can dispose of them in charitable ways. May we all so do with the incredible riches we all enjoy.

With compassion,

Canoelover

Grampa-ing

Bratfest is Madison's carnivorous festival—190,000 brats were consumed last weekend. A disgusting thing if you think about it too much, so I suggest you don't.

We also took a few dozen boats over to the pond next to the Alliant Energy Center where Bratfest happens. We charge a buck a ride for the kids and donate the money to a scholarship fund for underprivileged kids to get a chance to take our classes.

Unfortunately we can't give kids under 6 a chance to paddle (insurance regulations), but this little guy was persistent. So I climbed in the boat, he climbed in too and Grampa Canoelover got to have some fun. Then I got to give him back to his mother.

I went out for a short paddle after that and noticed he was watching me the whole time. He almost fell in the water coming down to see me get out of the boat, and would have climbed in if we had let him.

So I made a friend on Sunday, even though I don't know his name. I hope he remembers the vicarious paddling as he grows up.

Thanks to Jim for his photo.

A sweet day on the Sugar

We took the Memorial Day holiday opportunity to run the Upper Sugar (Hwy X to Hwy EE). Lovely paddle, and Ian paddled the Argosy the whole way, a good 15 miles or so. We called our friends Bill and Gail on a lark and they decided to come along. Gail packs the best picnic lunches on the planet, so by all means invite her on your next river trip.

Working at the forge again...

Ian is working on another school art project (the latest in the crustacean theme - a lobster). The forge was hot and I felt like working along side him, rather than helping him to give him a little more independence while still being there for safety and to help when he got stuck.

I enjoy making split bar crosses. It's a sort of alchemy that makes this cross out of one piece of metal. No saws, just a slitting chisel and a steady eye and hand. And a lot of patience.

The irony is that I don't wear crosses or display them. Some Christians do, some don't, I'm of the latter variety. I have lots of friends who do, thankfully. A couple of pastors, etc., as well as other friends who are of the former variety, or some who just like crosses.

So I just makes them. If there are any Muslims reading this, I can make crescents too. For the Jews, I can make Stars of David.

For the Taoists, I just stare at the anvil for a few minutes and enjoy the anvil's beingness.

The Stackpole-Cam

Jon likes to fasten his camera to the front thwart of the canoe and just let it take pictures, one every ten seconds or so. It actually works pretty well to capture what is going on.

Thanks, Jon, for a great day and several hundred photos through which I need to sort now.

Quote for the Day...

"If A equals success, then the formula is A equals X plus Y plus Z. X is work. Y is play. Z is keep your mouth shut." — Albert Einstein

Wishing for more Z from some people,

Canoelover

"Baby, I've come to take you home."

I meet a lot of happy people every day. In fact, 99 out of 100 are delighted to be alive, and one thinks life is out to get him. He (or she) should move to Myanmar. But anyway...

John C. is one of the 99. He's a vibrant and active man, excited about life, and a passionate and dedicated outdoor enthusiast. He's also 75.

When he came in today, I asked what I could to to help him and he said "I am here to get my new kayak." I found it, took him outside to the sold boat racks and before I could point out his new boat, he saw her. "Oh, baby, I've come to take you home..."

I love this man.

More Grant River

The Grant River is relatively unknown to many Wisconsin paddlers. It doesn't have the name recognition of the Kickapoo, though the rivers are similar in many ways. Limestone bluffs are common, and the ferns and other little plants cling to them in proliferate abundance (redundant, but purposefully redundant).

I went with Jon from the shop, who called the night before after noticing on my Facebook status that I was "going paddling tomorrow." I was delighted to have a companion, especially one who is a competent paddler and a thoughtful observer of life. Jon can enjoy a river without talking a lot, but he's by no means taciturn. He just doesn't prattle.

Stephanie and I had paddled the section of the Grant just below this one, and I was curious to see the upper section. It was lovelier still. Great little grottos like this one.

The Five Fingers KSOs were on their maiden voyage and did a fantastic job, better than the Classics I used to wear as watershoes. I still use Classics for dry land stuff (such as grocery shopping—you should see the looks I get), but the KSOs (Keep Stuff Out) kept stuff out. I hate to sound like an infommercial but I really think these are great. Jon was wearing sandals and the abrasive action between boat and foot (just add a little sand and water) left him with a few little open sores. My feet, besides having a funny tan line, were perfectly sound.

Okay, back to paddling...

Or not. The wildflowers were still thick, and while Jon volunteered for the bike shuttle, I poked around the woods. Anemones were in bloom, lovely little patches of white in the deep green of the forest.

There was also one stalk of red baneberry (Actaea rubra) which was rare for me to see, I guess the wet cold Spring kept things around a little longer than usual. Nature waited for me to get my affairs in order and get out there, and for that I thank her.

One of the benefits of a waterproof camera is that you can take shots like this and not worry about your camera getting damp. The water was gorgeous, very clear for this time of year, and with polarized glasses you could see fish darting about and the occasional turtle wondering what we were.


The Miterwort was blooming...get a hand lens and enjoy. These are amazing flowers. I am so glad I don't live in a desert.

Respectfully submitted to the committee,

Canoelover

Went canoeing... it was fun... more later...

...when I get a chance. The Upper Grant is a winner.

Good Eggs vs. Commodity Eggs

We try to get our eggs from Larry, our friendly neighborhood egg dude. They taste better, look better, and they give money to Larry instead of to Eggs R Us or whatever the Egg Conglomerate is.

So we ran out of Larry's eggs today. We had to use two Larry's eggs and two Eggs R Us eggs. The difference in flavor is noticeable. The difference in color is equally dramatic.

Ian was not pleased. "How come I don't get the Larry Eggs?" This from a teenager who barely tastes his food as it passes down the warped space of his esophagus into the black hole of his stomach.

They're that good.

Looking down

weed (wēd) n. 1.a. A plant considered undesirable, unattractive, or troublesome, especially one growing where it is not wanted, as in a garden.


I went to the UW Arboretum today to photograph some friends from church. They have cute kids and are very nice people, so it was pleasant. Since they have little kids, I knew they'd be late so I took some time to poke around.


Everyone was looking at the lilac garden, which was, of course, gorgeous. The smell is almost intoxicating and a little overwhelming. While everyone was looking up, I took the opportunity to look down at the dandelions.

A dandelion is in the same family as Asters, a flower that is often cultivated for its beauty. The dandelion flower isn't a flower really, it's a collection of flowers on one flower bud. Whatever it is, it's pretty, with a lovely fractal pattern. If we weren't so addicted to the sterility of a golf course lawn as the ideal, we'd like dandelions a lot more.

Mundane is a label often misapplied. Dandelions are not at all mundane, they're lovely. Actually, I'd say the perfect suburban lawn is the epitome of mundane. It's sterile, a mono-culture of millions of grass blades that all look exactly the same, with all the excitement of a Moonie wedding. The fertilizers and herbicides that make the "perfect lawn" render it a desert to all other forms of plant life, and while it may be good for croquet, it's not much good for much else.

And this guy is in sales???

My cousins

Last week my Aunt Karen visited with my cousin Wendy and her two sweet kids. We took them to Pizza Brutta and it was all good. Dallin (shown above) was particularly enamored with the good old Wisconsin cheese. Kenna (shown below) was content to distort her face by pressing it against the screen of the porch. And yet, she was still cute.


Frequent readers of my blog (both of you) will notice I am not a habitual poster of cute kid pictures. Indeed, these may be the only two cute kid pictures on my entire blog. This compares (favorably in my mind) with the blogs that are nothing but cute kid pictures. The cuteness effect is somewhat dissipated by the overly saturated and saccharine postings.

So let's just move forward, accepting the fact that these are seriously cute kids, but more importantly, they are seriously cool (albeit little) people. They are interesting. They are engaging. They are totally 100% alive, and live in the moment. Good little Buddhists, and they don't even know it. Perfect.

Kenna was particularly fascinated with the didgeridoo. Heck, Kenna was fascinated with everything, including our poor dog. Already neurotic by nature, Gracie was often found in our room, just wanting to go five minutes without hearing the word "Doggie!"

It has been 14 years since we had a one year-old around for more than a few hours. I had forgotten just how wonderful it is. I am now in the paradoxical position of wanting grandkids without wanting my daughter to marry and have kids just yet.

Porn!

I am in the unenviable position of not being able to view my own blog. Our spam/porn blocking software decided that something I posted was "recreational nudity."

Okay, I admit it. The snapping turtle was naked. Some of the trees on the riverbank could be seen as somewhat phallic. The frog was, of course, fully nude, and to quote the Old Testament, "and was not ashamed." Amphibian porn is insidious, I agree. It starts with a few tadpoles, pretty soon you have hundred-gallon tanks with three or four turtles, of course, fully nude.

Anyway, I tried to delete the post and see what would happen. Nothing. Canoelover is still tainted with a pornographic stain that will not be easily blotted out. I have written emails to the guys who administer this service. They do not respond.

Remember, these are the guys who blocked www.hornytoad.com. Again with the amphibians...

The Art of India Darbar Restaurant

Namaste, art lovers.

Some say public art is dying...I say "hogwash." These fine images are poor facsimiles taken with my camera at the India Darbar Restaurant, which in addition to these amazing images, has really good food.

I saved the best for last, a gorgeous print in the style of Caravaggio that I liked so much I decided to get a picture with me and S.

Next time...the art of the Kwik-Trip.

P.S. The food really was excellent.

Turtles

The Grant River is a little gem of Southwest Wisconsin. It drains 269 square miles, has a median water flow of 175 cubic feet per second, and feeds into the Mississippi near the old lead mining town of Potosi. Aside from the USGS statistics, it's just a lovely little river, and I highly recommend it.

Today there was significantly more water than the median 175 cfs. It was closer to 500, and it was lovely. The temperature was perfect, the water was chilly but refreshing, and my wife was, of course, ravishingly beautiful.


S. called in well (something she never does, ever) and we decided to hit the Grant. It's 90 minutes from the house, just a few gallons away. We decided to run a bike shuttle since the traffic counts are so low we'd never get a ride hitchhiking and it's a nice but hilly ride. Actually, very hilly. Welcome to Southwestern Wisconsin.

Once in the boat, we settled into the familiar rhythm of paddling a tandem canoe. Though I prefer solo canoes, paddling a tandem with a well-practiced partner is a joy. Though we had a few communication issues (it was our first tandem paddle of the year), we did okay.

The thing that struck us immediately was the number of turtles. Not your everyday run-of-the-mill C. picta belli painted turtles. We're talking Chelydra serpentina, a Snapper the size of a dinner plate. Not huge, but decent. He seemed to hardly be aware of us, certainly not threatened by a couple of canoeists. He was well-camoflaged by a coating of mud, but I broke off a branch that was hiding his face and managed to snap a picture of his eye, the only thing that wasn't gray.

The other turtles we saw were not painted turtles either...they were Midland Smooth Softshell Turtles, Apalone muticus, and their more common cousins, the Eastern Spiny Softshell, A. spinafera. The Midland Softshell is a "species of concern," which is what you make them before they're threatened or endangered. They usually live in the Mississippi and Lower Wisconsin, but I'm not surprised a few sneaked up the Grant. They're tough to tell apart, especially when they dive for cover before you can get close enough to see their carapace markings, feet, and noses if you're lucky. The Spinies have cheerio-shaped markings, the others have spots, and the A. muticus has a really cool nose. They're prehistoric and look every bit the part. We saw a dozen of both species, the smallest being a saucer-sized, the largest the size of a turkey platter. Sweet.

We also saw an abundance of bird life—bald eagles, herons, redtailed hawks, a few Baltimore Orioles, goldfinches, song sparrows, cliff and barn swallows, a pair of shrikes (cool!), a red-headed woodpecker, a flicker, numerous plovers and sandpipers. I heard a lot more than I saw, and frankly, couldn't identify them by their calls. There were thrushes. That much I know.

As we pulled out at the take-out, a very confused Pickerel Frog (R. palustris) jumped into our canoe. After a quick picture, we turned him loose. Pickerel Frogs are somewhat uncommon so it was fun to see one.

Because the parking area was a mud pit, we parked along side the road on a fairly steep incline, probably 20 degrees or so. As I was tossing the strap over the canoe, I slipped on the gravel and skewered by face on the end of the rack crossbar. It has a piece of hardware on it for the Hullavator, so it was sharp and nailed me but good. To quote Lance Murdock (Simpson's Motorcycle Daredevil), "Chicks dig scars..."

Ow,
Canoelover

Jack in hiding...

I have a deep backyard with a sort of wild ravine behind it. The city owns it, but judging from the state of repair, it's of no worth to them and is of much worth to me. It has become infested with garlic mustard, so we've taken to pulling it as soon as it emerges. Since garlic mustard is a biennial, you gotta stay on it for a while, because just a few seeds can make a big mess, and the plants take two years to mature and bear seed. I have heard it takes five to seven years to totally eradicate. At least it makes a decent pesto.

The nasty part about garlic mustard is that it emerges first, blocking light that is essential for the early Spring ephemerals, so they crowd out the native cool stuff.

After pulling a trash bag full of mustard, I found a few little treasures hiding under the canopy. They're little Jacks in the Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum), a native Wisconsin species that managed to keep a toe-hold while we clear out the nasties. They'll spread now, and we'll keep at it until the JITPs replace all the GM.

There was also a few small Solomon's Seal, some phlox, and a lot of invasive trees like silver maples and buckthorn. Truth be told, the little Jacks have inspired me to clear out the invasives and help re-establish a nice native plant shade garden. It's a long-term project, but I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

I pinch.

Ian needed to make a art metal project for his art class. and decided to make a crab. I think it is supposed to be Gil the Crab, so we staged a few shots.

Ian has become a natural metal artist. He thinks how metal moves and doesn't work against it (a very common error with beginning smiths). I still have to do some of the welding if it's intricate, and I usually run the wire cup angle grinder because it's so freaking dangerous -- it is definitely a wonderful and evil tool. Beyond that, he does most of the work himself.

Maybe little pinch?

Cubicle, sweet cubicle.

It was my first day of work at the State Department of Labor in my new position of Statistician for the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The date was December 17th, 1990.

I showed up with a tie on (first mistake), and was lead through puke-colored partitions to a small square of real estate located in the back corner of a massive cubicle farm.

"Heres your cubic- er, your workspace," said Chuck, the project assistant for the Bureau, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"It's okay, you can call it a cubicle," I said. "After all, that's what it is." He grinned and said, "Yep, you have to be a Section Chief to get a window, and you have to be a Bureau Director to get a door."

"I guess we're just too smart to get a window or a door," I said. He smiled, and I knew I had an ally.

---

18 years later, I'm back to the cubicle. My office with a door (without a window because it's in a basement cum bomb shelter) is now Mary's domain, our accountant who needs a lot more space and a lot more privacy than I really wanted. I want to be interrupted. I love my staff and I enjoy their company.

So the old cubicle is a mess, but it's a pleasant sort of disorder.

May Flowers

A nice walk in the Arb revealed some new treats. We found not one but three wood poppy patches (Stylophorum diphyllum). They don't last for more than a few days once they bloom, so it was nice to see them.


The Prairie Trillium (Trillium recurvata) are in bloom too, just starting and they're lovely. I also found what looks a lot like Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica) but it's hard to tell as I am a crappy botanist. Help me, Rosie-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.

The cousins loved the walk in the woods -- the giant turkeys who were in full-on display mode, telling all female turkeys that they were the desirable goods. I wonder if Puff Daddy ever considered the unintentional metaphor.

"Yo, whazzup, henz? I be da baddest galliform in da Arboretum 'hood, dig? Check out mah waddle and mah snoot, all puffed up an' purple, a cullah dat accent mah wrinkly head. And mah beard, it almost reach da grass, it be so long and all, an' dere's mo where dat come from."

For the record: I am the second whitest person on the planet so if my gansta seems a bit stilted, its because I am, as noted previously, the second whitest person on the planet. Word.

The Pasque Flowers are a little late...

The Pasque Flowers (Anemone pulsatilla) are late this year. They are supposed to bloom around Easter (Pasqua in Italian) but someone forgot to tell the Pasque flowers that Easter was early this year. No matter, they're here now, and I'm glad.

If you want to see some Pasque Flower action, try here.

Pictures from the morning commute...

Getting Ready
The Isthmus
Lakeside Street
Capitol City Bike PathAround Monona Bay
Self Portrait of Happy Cyclist Who Should Really Be Looking Where He Is Going

Just another thing to love about Madison.