A Single Flop

I keep a pair of flip flops on my back porch, right next to my kitchen door. Correction: I kept a pair of flip flops on my back porch, right next to my kitchen door. It's the wilderness out here in the wide open Mojave Desert, you don't want to be surveying your land in bare feet and you don't want to be tracking all that sand back into your house, so a pair of flip flops by the back door equals perfect solution. Until today. When I went outside this morning to water the trees, I found this:

I can't decide which thought is more disturbing. Something big enough to carry off my right flip was on my porch, just outside my kitchen door, while I carelessly slept. Or, that some poor something is wandering around the desert right now wearing a single flop.

Man, I loved those flip flops too! I've had them forever and they fit just right.

It will take every ounce of energy I have NOT to google "desert serial killer and flip flop thief".

An Even Wilder Kingdom

I realize I run the risk of becoming Marlin Perkins here, but I gotta tell ya, my yard is amazing! Yesterday, I discovered I don't just have the two roadrunner lovebirds living in my yucca bush, I also have both species of roadrunners, the Greater Roadrunner and the Lesser Roadrunner, in my yard. The lovebirds living in my yucca bush are the Greater Roadrunners, but I've seen an adorable little Lesser Roadrunner two days in a row now. It's kind of blowing my mind! I've had zero luck getting a good photo of either of these guys, but I've had lots of luck getting mediocre ones. Like this one of one of the lovebirds:

I spent the late morning and early afternoon today tearing down some old fencing and doing some general yard clean up. This involved lots of wire cutting and hauling and moving pieces of wood from one pile to another. That's where the scorpion comes in. He was having an afternoon nap or something underneath a previously discarded, but yet to be hauled away, fence post. I fear he might have the misfortune of being one of the Greater Roadrunner's dinner tonight. Again, no luck getting a good photo, but I think if you click on this one to make it bigger you'll find him, right smack dab in the center:

This evening I was sitting at my desk, listening to "Ted Quinn's Sunday Evening Variety Show" on Radio Free Joshua Tree and gazing out my big picture window when this sweet guy came hopping by for a visit:

Apparently, he was hungry:

Luckily for him, not for scorpions.

It was a really good day at the Double D Ranch and Wild Kingdom Desert Critter Sanctuary.

Wild Kingdom

My desert yard is teeming with wildlife: quails, jack rabbits, insects by the dozens, lots of birds I don't know the names of, and my favorite of all, roadrunners. I have two roadrunners. They live in the yucca bush next to my driveway. Roadrunners are usually solitary, but occasionally live in pairs and are known to mate for life. In fact, I swear the two in my yard were courting last month.  I see one, or both of them, every single day. And every single time I see them is a treat. They're wily little things -- which is funny if you think about it. They're quite shy. Quite skittish. And they don't stand still for more than a couple of seconds at a time. And when they move, they move pretty darn quickly. Which is also funny because they do indeed, run. I'm told it's great luck to have them around your house because they eat tarantulas, and scorpions, and rattlesnakes, as if just being completely adorable wasn't reason enough to love them.

Today though, I had a couple of quails put on a show for me. I was sitting at my desk which faces a large picture window that looks out at my side yard. The view is breathtaking and it's usually where I catch the glimpses of my roadrunners, and today, two quails came by for a late afternoon sand bath. I honestly thought the larger of the two was nesting. She (assuming it was a girl) went to town digging a hole in the sand beneath a small tree that's right outside my window and then proceeded to fling the sand and dust up and over herself in what can only be described as a little quail frenzy. Then she got up and moved to a new spot (same routine) and left the first hole to her smaller quail companion so he could have his way with the soft, cool spot she'd created. I'm guessing, just for him. They hung around for awhile, lounging in their holes, flinging sand, cooing, prancing around the tree. When the large one fluttered up to the top of a fence post I knew, that she knew, I was watching them. She was showing off. And she sat there for several minutes, posing, while I took her photo.

If only I could get my roadrunners to cooperate like this!

The Sound of Silence

Holy cow! It's been a solid month since I've written a blog entry! Not good. Not good, at all. I knew I hadn't been feeling particularly "creative" lately, but jeez, a month is too long. So, so many things go down in a month's time. Where to begin?

The biggest news is that I am now officially a resident of Joshua Tree! Yes, another desert rat (or fox) is born. I've been house sitting on and off out here since mid-January, but as of this week I have my very own (well a rental, but still) desert pad. It's beautiful and quiet and cozy and quiet and remote and quiet and teeming with wildlife. Did I mention it was quiet?

I was back in my LA home last week for a couple of days and was quite suddenly struck at how noisy the place is. I grew up in the suburbs and I've lived in other cities including New York City for ten years, so I know from some noise, but I guess I'd already (and without really noticing) become accustomed to the "silence" of the desert. LA is car alarms blaring, trucks passing, airplanes flying, dogs barking, power tools buzzing, air conditioners running, people talking, cars beeping, neighbors doing what neighbors do. Joshua Tree is birds chirping, quails cooing, coyotes yelping, wind blowing even sometimes howling, the occasional fly or bee buzzing, and every now and then a boom from the military base many miles away. But mostly, when the refrigerator isn't humming and the air is still, there's actual, honest to goodness, silence.

Like nothing I've ever heard.

Buddha is Not Amused

It was Wizard of Oz windy in the high desert all day yesterday and through most of the night. The air and the sounds seem to find a way into the house through every possible and impossible entry point. The front door moans. The chimney and the swamp cooler vent hiss. And every window rattles and hums. At 2:30 a.m. the sleet and freezing rain sound like a gang of love-sick '50's movie teenage boys, pelting the house with stones to wake up their equally love-sick teenage girl counterpart. I was tempted to to get out of bed and open the drapes to make sure that wasn't the case. As if. But, I was warm and cozy in bed and knew if I climbed out of my body warmth cocoon it would take me the rest of the night to get it just right again. So I stay put, listening to the ice crystals pelt the windows, and wondering what the cactus and yucca trees and creosote bushes will look like after a night of winter weather. By the time I do finally summon the courage to face the world on the other side of my blankets, most of whatever had fallen overnight has melted or blown away. Snow doesn't last long out here, and I regret not getting up at 2:30 to see it while it weathered. But, there's still a bit of snow hanging onto some things scattered around the yard, so I go outside to take some photos and a little walk. Looking west, the storm clouds are huge and ominous and rolling over the mountain tops and into the desert valleys, headed east.  It's freezing in the desert this morning! I'm fascinated with the sight of the clouds and the mountains though, so I stand there, shivering, staring at nature, like I'm waiting for something unexpected, or dramatic, or magical to happen. But, Mother Nature doesn't care that I'm cold and waiting. She's gonna do what She's gonna do in her own sweet time. I know this wind is going to bring those clouds and that weather and whatever else She has in store for us desert rats, eventually. But right now, those clouds are perfectly content hanging onto that mountain top for dear life. It must be snowing like crazy up there!

My hands are frozen, my cheeks are bright red, and my hair is crazy. So, I go back inside and spend the next hour or so in front of the pellet stove and space heater and with a hot cup of tea, thawing out. The wind is howling still, but this afternoon I'm feeling a bit more like one of the little pigs than Dorothy.  The clouds are still moving past at a good clip, but the birds are chirping and the sun is out. It's going to be a cold, blustery day in the desert for sure, but somehow, She just can't keep from letting the sun shine down on us desert rats, eventually.

An Officer and a Gentlewoman

"I pulled you over because you were going 54 in a 40 mile an hour zone."

"Oh, sorry. I'm usually the one being honked at and passed on this road. Honestly, didn't realize I was speeding."

"What are you up to tonight? Where you coming from?"

"A friend's house. Bunch of ladies hanging out, swapping clothes. Good, clean fun."

"Have anything to drink tonight?"

"Had a glass of wine."

"What time was that?"

"What is it now, 10ish? Around 7."

"I'm gonna need to see your license."

"Okay. It's in my bag, in the back."

"That's fine. Step on out and get that for me."

"What are you, visiting?"

"Sort of. I'm house-sitting for a friend just up the road, off of Border."

"See the tip of my pen here? I'm gonna need you to follow that with your eyes. Don't move your head. Just your eyes."

"Ha. Oh, sorry. I thought you were gonna move it back over to the other side just then."

"You can step back in your car now."

"Here ya go. Take it easy on your speed, okay?"

"I definitely will. Thank you!"

Seriously, thank you, Officer Whoeveryouare, who looked young enough to be my offspring!
I owe you one.

A Very Big Deal

I stayed up late last night doing some freelance work. Not a big deal. I was happy to do it and happy to have the work. At 6:00 a.m. this morning, I got a text that woke me up. Not a big deal. I have the luxury right now of not having to get up and get going anywhere in the morning, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. Then I slept a little later than I meant too. Had lots to do today, but as I said, no where I had to be, so not a big deal. I got up, fed the fish and the tortoise and the lizard and myself. Made a cup of tea and hunkered down on what turned out to be a two-hour phone call with Time Warner. By the end of the call the wireless internet was working again. Last week it took my friends four days to get their internet back up and running, so my two hours, not a big deal. I got a lot of work done today. I soaked my sore, maybe broken, toe for a little while. I gazed out the window at the unbelievably beautiful light on the mountains just before sunset and wished I was a painter. I took a few not nearly representative enough of the beauty photos of the mountains, touched up my roots, took a shower, had a bite to eat, and then remembered it was take the garbage and recycling cans all the way down the driveway to the other side of the street night. It was already dark and chilly out and it's a long driveway, but not a big deal. I have a coat, and a flashlight app on my phone. Since I was outside anyway and already wearing my coat, I decided to take a quick trip to the grocery store, so I'd have something to eat for breakfast other than week old grapes. I drove down the driveway, made a right onto the dirt road, a left onto the next dirt road that becomes paved by the next block, and a right onto highway 62 heading east. A couple of blocks later, traffic came to a slow crawl. A traffic jam in the desert is a pretty rare thing. A misbehaving traffic light, possibly? A coyote crossing the highway, perhaps? A sobriety check-point, maybe? Whatever it is, not a big deal, not in a hurry, and chances are it won't take too long anyway. Ten minutes or so later, as the now single lane of traffic inched along, following the directions of the little orange cones that were leading us to detour off the highway and around the eerily quiet and now obvious but seemingly undramatic accident scene, I turned my head towards the dim lights of the police cruiser and saw it. A body, covered in a blanket, alone and laying in the middle of the two east-bound lanes of highway 62, just past Palm Trail. There were no mangled vehicles. There were no sirens blaring or lights flashing. Just a few police cars and officers politely directing the traffic and a fire engine or two. I don't even remember if I saw an ambulance or not. It was an oddly serene and thoroughly disturbing and absolutely heartbreaking scene. I turned off the highway initially to follow the traffic around and through the detour, but without really thinking about it, turned right instead of left and found myself headed absentmindedly back towards home. I drove up the driveway, walked into the house, made a cup of tea, turned off all the lights, and crawled into bed. I'll have week old grapes for breakfast. It's really not a big deal. Not a big deal at all.

Confessions of an Addict

The first month of this new year is on its last legs and I have slept in my own bed, in the year 2013, seven times! If I hadn't pulled out a calendar and actually counted the days, I would have guessed a lower number. And even though this current incarnation of "my" bed has only been mine for four months, I really like it, and I miss it when I'm away. It's a futon actually, on a raised and slatted platform, and my pillows (just two) are like little rectangular clouds under my weary head, so I get this whole firm and comfy-cozy thing going all at once. Add to this my organic cotton sheets, my handmade quilt (every inch of which was lovingly sewn and quilted by my second-oldest sister) and my extra blanket made from recycled saris, and you've got a pretty darn dreamy, sleepy-time adventure. So why, pray tell, when I'm nestled all snug as a bug in my proverbial bed rug, am I now pining away for something as silly as...television?

We don't have cable here in Casey in California's home in the Valley, but three out of the four homes I've slept in the other twenty-four nights this year, sure did. Philosophically, I'm not a fan of having a television in the bedroom, but man, I surely have enjoyed it -- philosophical viewpoint aside. It's sort of decadent, no? Burrowing into your nest for the night with the soft glow and low murmur of an old black and white movie in the background. Or the welcome company of a beloved film you've seen so many times you can recite the dialogue, word for word. Even just a well-worn anthology that feels like family or a long lost friend.

Ah, who am I kidding? Heading back out to the dez this morning which means woohoo! Project Runway tonight!

My January Daze

Have I really gone twenty-two days without posting a blog entry? Has this month really been that busy? The short answer is: yes.

The holidays are a distant blur and right after those wrapped up I flew to Baltimore for a ten-day visit. Even that seems like it was months ago! I spent every minute of those ten days hanging out with Jack and my family and my friends and watching some amazing kids play some badass rock and roll! Well, every minute except the 1,440 of them I spent having a stomach virus instead, but other than that, it was a good visit. I like Baltimore...let me rephrase that...I like my people in Baltimore and I like some things in and about Baltimore. Like the kid I saw in Hampden playing outside, hopping down Chestnut Avenue on his pogo stick. I mean seriously, where else but in that neighborhood are you going to spy a kid on a pogo stick? That's something to like, I think. And my people, I do like my Baltimore people. I miss my Baltimore people. I even had good weather while I was there. Which can be hard to come by in January in Baltimore. It was a good visit. Celebrated my mom's 89th birthday. Watched the Raven's win - twice! Made it through a twenty-four hour bug. Got my hair did. Got a new tattoo. Got to see my kid a lot. Spent some quality time with my family and my bff K and the X and my dog and my SLBC. And rocked out at eight (maybe nine, I lost count) SoR Baltimore shows in three days! It was a good visit. Exhausting. And illuminating. And confusing. And sickly. But good!

It was good to get back to Cali though, too. My bed and my stuff and my California people. I unpacked, did a few loads of laundry, and repacked, because three days after I got back from Baltimore, I dove straight into a twelve-day puppy sitting gig in the dez. Good work, if you can get it! The weather's been great. The puppies are adorable. The house is cozy. The friends are fantastic. And the hot tub is, well come on, it's a hot tub - in the winter - in the high desert - how do you think it is?

Although it's been busy and hectic and even a little unnerving, I can certainly think of worse ways to spend the month of January.

Run, Rabbit Run

Ah, the holidays, here and gone. I’m a bit thankful for the swiftness this year, though. Christmas and New Year’s 2012 had a little more heartache than I would have preferred, but they will ultimately be remembered for time well spent and time spent well in one of my favorite places with some of my favorite people.

I was driving from the desert back to LA yesterday, deep in thought about the year past and the year ahead and contemplating last year’s mantra, unfold. That was a really tough one for me. I do tend to try to make things happen, instead of letting events organically unfold, hence the year’s intentions. In retrospect, I recognized lots of times I was not as successful as I had thought I’d been, incorporating the concept into my daily life. As always, I had my iPod on shuffle and turned up to eleven, and as I was beating myself up about when and where I could have done better, a song came on, that on almost any other day I would have skipped, but for whatever reason, yesterday, I let it play:


Breathe, breathe in the air.
Don't be afraid to care.
Leave, but don't leave me.
Look around, choose your own ground.


And I realized, I just need to take it a step further. And I remembered a word that had resonated with me a few months ago, when I saw it painted on the side of a barn, in that favorite place of mine.

So this year’s mantra is similar to last’s, but maybe it’s just a way of giving myself a second chance. After all, that’s what New Years are all about, right?