Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Spirit Journey & Manatees - Part 7

The next day we decided to drive down to Key West and see how far we could get. So into the car we got, early in the morning, after our café Cubanos (yum!), we hit the road.

At mile marker 93.6 at Tavernier we saw the Wild Bird Center, were curious and stopped for a tour.

It turns out that the WBC works with a surgical center in Marathon Key to rescue sick and injured birds, and rest and cure them for return to the wild if possible. Many of the “ambulatory” (or maybe that should be “wingulatory”) birds roam free, such as pelicans, and others who are worse off are caged in huge enclosures.

We were able to enter some of the large cages and see the less severely injured and friendlier birds, like pelicans. We were told about raptors being treated, like owls and hawks, but were not allowed to see them as they were not to be disturbed.

Sean and I wandered around the grounds and found lovely a dog cemetery for the center’s former pets and a really neat pristine little beach. We left a donation for the good work being done there before we left.

We would not have made it very far on this section of Route 1...

We continued with our drive on Route 1, a.k.a. the overseas highway, but only made it as far as Marathon Key, since we had spent so much time at the WBC.

We thought that we could drive there and back in one day since it was only 120 miles, but there is traffic at every island, er, key as well as things to do and see. And it got dark outside. So we stopped to have dinner at a fish place that had disposable plastic tablecloths. Sean had red snapper and I had tuna. We were both very impressed by the freshness of our fish and had a wonderful meal. Sean drove us back to the Hungry Pelican.

The next morning, I took my new wet suit for a test drive off the Pelican’s dock. The motel’s owner was cheering me on. Did I mention that it was a dive oriented Motel?

“You go girl! I told you you’d get into that water yet!” he cheered.

I did and man that water was fucking cold! I was so glad I bought a wet suit. I had my snorkel and fins on and paddled around the dock to see what I could. I could see some crabs and shy fish schooling, but that was all. I swam out a ways, but the larger fish seemed to elude me. It was like a tease. So, I came back to the dock and got out of the water. Tomorrow was our planned dive. I would rest until then. I managed to squirm and wriggle out of my wet suit, always a chore, and rinsed it and my other gear with a hose and hung it outside to dry.

Sean and I decided to take the Motel’s canoe and paddle out into the bay to look at the partially submerged wreck that was just visible from our dock. It turned out to be a tug boat and there were so many fish around it; we were amazed. We wished we had brought our snorkel gear. We hung around out there for a while, seeing what we could and then decided to check out the canals of Key Largo since that was where the manatees went. Maybe we would see one again there.

The canals were peaceful and beautiful. Most had houses and boats on both sides landscaped with tropical trees and shrubs that I just love. We also noticed lots of rental and for sale signs. So we began to talk about bringing our 36 foot motor boat (subject of another post – I promise) down and living on it part of the year and renting it out the rest of the year. The weather was gorgeous and we were alone together, peacefully paddling, dreaming of our happy future together; our own private bliss. We didn’t miss not seeing the manatee.

That evening, we found a sushi restaurant, Sushi Nami, within walking distance of the Hungry Pelican. Service was slow, but the fish was fresh and fabulous. I love eating sushi. I start with green tea. How civilized is that? Then I usually have miso or clear soup. Since I was recovering from sinusitis, hot fluids really were just what the doctor ordered. Then I will order what ever the sushi chef recommends as fresh (though I do not like octopus). The only cooked sushi I eat is unagi (freshwater eel), but I prefer anago (saltwater eel), because they cannot give you parasites. We ate there whenever we could.

Then, we would cross the street to the Baskins-Robbins 31 and get ice cream cones for desert. My favorite flavor was jamoca® almond fudge. Ah, vacation; the only way to live.

Stay tuned for the next post, when I will snorkel Key Largo!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Welcoming a New Link

Fair View would like to welcome Stephen from the blog "Geekslut" to our link list. Stephen is very brave, frank and candid in the way that he posts about dealing and living with AIDS (see old Geekslut - he has had it all and it is a worthwhile read) while still living his life to its fullest. He follows his bliss and we can all take a lesson from that.

His current post deals with how his viral level is currently undetectible and he does the right thing by disclosing his HIV status to his partners, but many of his negative partners still want unprotected sex with him, which I find rather alarming. The current comment thread on his post addresses this issue. Adults only please.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Friday Fantasy - Sculpture

Sometimes I imagine that I am a great sculptor with talents that rival Michelangelo. He had his David. Most artists work from life. Do we doubt for a moment that David was a real young man, or that Michelangelo didn't enjoy his model's body to some extent or other? The artist can gather so much more information with hands instead of eyes.

Meet my model, Adonis. Stratis introduced us only earlier this week. I will source my white marble for this work from Carrera in Italy; only the best for my Adonis. FirstI will shape out the block roughly, then get into the more painstaking details. I hope Adonis had lots of time on his hands, as this will take a while. I cannot wait until I get to the part where I need to tilt the head, separate the chin from the neck, carve each ear as if it were a shell, carve out those biceps and shelf-like pectorals, smooth flat that pelvis, make that little vein on his arm stand out. Carving out each abdominal muscle will be pure joy. Then there are his genitals. There I will pay special attention and maybe not just with my hands.

You see, there can be great joy in being a sculptor if one has the right model. Don't you think?

The very best thing is that when your stone sculpture is complete, it will be around for the ages, for you to touch and fondle, as well as for others. It will feel exactly like the model did.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Bookfield, Nowhere Road - Part 2

Further down the road I came to two women weeding a large vegetable garden. They resembled each other closely in the nose and jaw line, both had blue eyes with light brown hair, and as it turned out they were mother and daughter. They were clad in house dresses with light floral patterns. The daughter, who looked to be in her twenties, gave me a sideways look and excused herself, saying she had someplace else to be. The mother had graying hair and was as fair of face as her daughter. I gave my approach and the mother dismissed me out of hand. She had no small children or relatives with children and had no interest in the Bible Dictionary. She did tell me that there were folks down the road that desperately needed the bible books to save their wicked souls.

So on I rode. I had a memory of a story that had circled Parchment sales training school of an African-American man who was told he could make a sale for sure at the end of the road. So on he went, and when he got to the end, it was a set up, and they were racists and shot him dead. I didn’t know why African-Americans would be brave enough to sell books; there was only one in our class. It was so racist here in the South, even I was nervous. Everybody had guns, and I had met people who had been shot. One such man was in bed in a trailer; he had been shot in the stomach during a disagreement in a bar.

When I got to the end there was only a two storey white farmhouse. I knocked on the door and there was no answer. So, I went around the back. There was a huge pond out there, and far off in the distance I could see several people lazily tubing on it in the summer sun. I called to them and they turned and saw me and called out and waved for me to join them. I shook my head “no” and they slowly and reluctantly started paddling over. As they came closer I could make out that it was two guys and two women. The man getting closer first seemed to own the place and as he stood to get out of the water, I could see that he was naked.

Then I noticed that they were all naked. The place was so remote, skinny dipping would be private, just as it was for Evan and me. This man had long scraggly hair and a beard. He had to be in his late twenties. It struck me suddenly that they were all hippies. I felt safe then. Hippies usually preached peace and were typically anti-violence, so there is no way they would hurt me. My worst fears were for naught.

“Come and join us!” the lead man said. “It’s beautiful on the pond, and it’s such a hot day.”

“Not this time, thanks.” I think they hoped to shock me, but really, it was tempting to join them. It was really hot. I didn’t need to school my face at all. I was a bit concerned that since they were naked and I was comfortable with it, they would expect sex, but then I noticed one of the women was from the house I just left, the daughter of the woman gardening. I made eye contact with her and she blushed.

“Please don’t tell my Mom that I was here. She’d kill me, or it would kill her.”

“I won’t.” I replied.

“You guys know each other?” the lead man said.

“We met at the house down the street.” I did my approach and here also and there was no interest what-so-ever in the books. But, it was time for lunch. Maybe I could get some interest there. Most folks who don’t buy books feel like they should do something else for you. I mentioned my quarter for a peanut butter sandwich line and the women responded immediately that we should have a picnic. It was a lovely day for it. Everyone else seemed comfortable naked, but I kept my clothes on.

The picnic was lovely; we had cheese and bread and fruit on a blanket which lay on the grass. They offered wine, but I stuck to water because of the heat. They offered me a ride back in their van, but it was way too early to knock off selling. So off I rode and continued my adventures.

Monday, October 23, 2006


Laila playing with Gus, the neighbors beagle/basset mix

Jenny on her favorite chair

MORAL: Never get two female dogs.

I learned this the hard way. I got Laila and Jenny, and Lili before them, because I prefer female shepherd dogs for smaller size, more even and loyal temperament, and prettier looks. But, never again will I get two female dogs.

It all started innocently enough when Laila was 2.5 years old and we got Jenny as a little puppy. Jenny was our little princess. She was a little upstart because she was half Belgian Malinois and that breed is known for being aggressive and needing to be number one. But since Laila was so much bigger and older, she was able to put Jenny down with no problem. We have never been able to feed them in the same room as Laila is food aggressive and we have always supported Laila as our alpha female.

Matters became more serious when Jenny turned 2 years old. Jenny made a serious play for dominance (read: they fought) and Laila gave Jenny a serious gash about 2 inches long that required stitches on her foreleg ($329). Our usually obedient dogs had turned into uncontrollable monsters overnight.

The veterinarian told us that some people had to give one dog away to solve this problem, but this was never an option for us. But then we spoke about our dog containment system. We use a radio fence that sends a beeping noise and a vibration to the dogs’ collars at a certain distance, and if they proceed, actually gives them a little (or not so little) electronic jolt. One of the options the system offers is a remote that the owner can use to modify a dog’s behavior. So, we bought one. Now, when I took them outside, I had the option of beeping Jenny or zapping her if she was bothering Laila. (Laila did not need to wear her collar any more as she was fully trained to stay in the yard and never would have bitten Jenny if not attacked.)

But, then I saw that Laila was taking advantage of Jenny’s being unable to come at her by pestering Jenny. So, I ended up putting collars on both of them.

However, Sean did not keep up with the program. He had both of the dogs out with him in the garage and they began to fight. Laila gave Jenny a gash on her abdomen near her flank and it was back to the vet for more stitches ($410). Oh well. At least that made him into a believer.

Time went by and all was peaceful. We were lulled by the peace and had stopped using the remote. Jenny mounted another attack and I was completely caught off guard, as was Laila. Laila lost that one and suffered a small gash on her foreleg. Back to the vet for more stitches (only $183!). Mind you, each time we go to the vet it costs us cash as the “losing” dog has to undergo anesthesia, receive antibiotics and then have the staples removed.

We went back to using the collars. By now the dogs are 7 and 5 years old. I would have thought that this entire struggle for dominance crap was over. But NO. I was wrong. I was on my way out to feed the koi; a very exciting time for the dogs. For some reason they got into it. I didn’t have the remote on me, just the friggin fish food, which I dropped. All you can really do is command the dogs to stop by saying, “No!” and pull on their tails to part them. But with only one person it is just an exercise in futility. That is just what I did. I tried to pull on the aggressor dog’s tail. Then that dog would fall down and the other dog would become the aggressor. I would run around to the other side and pull on that dog’s tail. Meanwhile I screamed for Sean’s help. But, we had just put up the storm windows and he was in the house watching a loud program on TV. I screamed at the top of my lungs to no avail. Ever have one of those dreams where something horrible is happening and you are screaming for help and no one can hear you? That is what it was like.

I thought the dogs were going to kill each other. Thank god they have thick fur around their necks because that is where they were biting at each other. Jenny would be on top of Laila worrying Laila’s throat, but only getting a mouthful of fur. I remember seeing Laila's snarling snout, her nose soaked in her own blood. Meanwhile I pulled on Jenny’s tail and managed to pull both dogs along the lawn, straining the muscles in my legs at the same time. They only stopped fighting when they were tired. I know I was exhausted.

Jenny had a puncture wound on her left lower foreleg, large canine hole outside, and small canine inside. Her face was smeared with Laila’s blood. Laila must have had a cut inside her nose, because it was bleeding fairly profusely from there, but she also had a deep scratch on top of her nose and a swollen left lower foreleg. Her nose stopped bleeding almost immediately. Five minutes later, we were all sitting in the office peacefully licking our wounds as if nothing had happened. At least we didn’t have to go to the vet again. My nerves were jangled to say the least.

Sean and I checked all of the batteries in the remote and collars and the dogs are wearing them today. This morning I had to beep them once. Guess I’m going to have to warm up to the idea of having a male dog in the future.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Thanks for the Link!

Hotguy has granted Fair View a link with his site, Guypaper. He features a new wallpaper everyday with a gorgeous hot man or men! For example, there are the Carlson Twins.

To see the full wallpaper, go here. If you are into twins, it really is a must see. But, not all of his wallpapers are nudes. He also has action shots, celebrities, and portraits.

Daniel Henny

So, update your wallpaper with Guypaper or at least drop by and visit. He has only been blogging for a month, so let's show him some support.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Morning Bagle

Okay everybody! It is time to wake up for Saturday Brunch! The coffee maker is heating up. I've brought the bagels. Whose got the cream cheese and lox? Oh. Wait. Looks like we need a Mohel too.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Friday Fantasy - Another Day, Another Dollar

I had flown out of my usual airport, and after running with my carryon bag to make my two too close connections, finally made it to my destination city, someplace in the middle of who knows where. I rented a car at the airport, and drove to my hotel. There was no valet parking in this god-for-saken little city and I had to park in the lot. I walked up to the check in desk and got my room key. God, I hate travel for work. It just gets so old so quickly.

I rode up to my floor and walked down the hallway to my room. I entered my room, closed the door behind me and heard the shower running. Instictively, I entered the bathroom to turn it off. This is what I saw.

Maybe the trip wouldn't be that dull after all. What would you do in this situation?

(Now, don't tell me you would call the manager and say the room was double booked, because this is a fantasy after all. Go away fantasy spoilers!)

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Bookfield, Nowhere Road - Part 1

At the previous sales meeting, I received the Parchment Gold Award for working 75 hours per week and giving 30 demos a day. The gold medal was about the size of a silver dollar, octagonal and one side said, “ Parchment Gold Award – 30 Demos A Day – 75 Hours A Week” and the other side said, “INTEGRITY, GOALS, COMPETITOR, TEACHABLE”. There was also a medal for working 80 hours per week, and a medal for working 80 hours a week in two consecutive years, that my twin sister Evie received. I would have gotten the 80 hours a week one, but I had ruined my chances of that by taking time off to see Evan. Well, at least it was worth it.

Everyone who received one was putting them on the flats of their elbows and then flipping them up to grab them as one’s hand came down. The theme music of that meeting was, Take it Easy, by the Eagles. I learned all of the lyrics:

Well, I’m runnin’ down the road, tryin’ to loosen my load,

I’ve got seven women on my mind:

four that wanna own me, two that wanna stone me,

one says she’s a friend of mine.

Take it easy, take it easy,

don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.

Lighten up while you still can, don’t even try to understand,

just find a place to take your stand and take it easy.

Well, I’m a standin’ on a corner in Winslow, Arizona,

and such a fine sight to see:

it’s a girl, my Lord, in a flat bed Ford

slowin’ down to take a look at me.

Come on baby, don’t say maybe.

I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.

We may lose and we may win though we will never be here again.

So open up I’m climbin’ in, so take it easy.

Well, I’m runnin’ down the road, tryin’ to loosen my load,

got a world of trouble on my mind.

Lookin’ for a lover that won’t blow my cover,

she’s so hard to find.

Take it easy, take it easy,

don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.

Come on baby, don’t say maybe.

I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me.

Oh, we got it easy,

we ought to take it easy.

It’s kind of like a jingle that stays in your head, and you can’t stop singing it. The beat of the song helps with keeping up a steady pedal cadence too.

Back in my territory, as I rode out of town early one morning, I noticed a sign on my left that said, “Nowhere Road”. Nowhere Road was dirt, not paved, and dusty to boot. I couldn’t see any houses, but I turned down it anyway. What happens when one moves into a place on Nowhere Road? Does one become the nowhere man? My curiosity was piqued I rode quickly to see what was down that road.

After a short while, I saw some ramshackle looking shacks. Looking more closely, I noticed that they were neat and tidy, as if appearance mattered to somebody very much even though they lived in shacks. Some African-American children were running around, dressed in their Sunday best. Little girls were wearing pink and light blue frocks, ankle socks, little patent leather mary jane shoes, with matching ribbons in their neatly braided hair. I glided to a stop in front of the nearest house. The porch was mere slats of broken aged looking wood, but swept clean. The roof on it was only two-by-fours, not even with proper posts. The house itself was listing to one side. The children gathered around me, as if they had not seen a visitor in a long time. A motherly looking woman came to the open door with a fan and asked me to come in, without my even doing an approach.

As I sat in her home, I noticed that the roof was only corrugated metal, the brownish sheet rock walls had water stains, and some interior doors were merely hanging bed sheets. The furniture was broken down, stained, and looked like it came from the dump. Flies were everywhere, as there were no screens in the windows to keep them out and the front door was also wide open. Otherwise, the house was neat and clean. It was a hot sunny day and the air was stagnant. As I explained that I had something to show the kids, she called them in. I went through my demos, and the kids eyes lit up and went wide. Then, suddenly, she asked them to leave. They went back outside without a word or a sullen look. I looked to her for an explanation, and she said, “Don’t worry about them none, honey. They know we don’t have money for them books. I just thought they would enjoy the show.” She offered me a cold drink and told me about her older daughter who had kids in junior high and high school and then left them with her. The daughter had run off someplace, no one was sure where. Afterwards she showed me out.

Now I understood why the road was called Nowhere. The people living here were pathetic, no money for books, living in rundown shacks, it was all so sad. But they still had pride and love. I made a quick decision that at the end of the summer, I would come back and leave my demo books with them. And I did.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Spirit Journey & Manatees - Part 6

I spent the next couple of days recovering on a chaise lounge on the dock of the Hungry Pelican motel. The owner regaled me with stories about how the snowy egret came to the motel the first time and never left after he was fed, and how the “hungry” pelicans came and never left, and how the pair of red shouldered hawks came to nest in the large pin oak at the motel. I could hear the hawks screeching above, just like our Cooper’s Hawks at home.

Red Shouldered Hawk

I watched as the owner fed the egret and pelicans twice a day. I got used to his routine. He would go into the freezer in the motel office, grab a frozen block of bait, and let it defrost. Then he would fill two buckets and carry them out to the dock. He would sit on a certain chair that was “his”, like a throne under a palm thatched roof. Each bird would take its own position on the dock prior to feeding time. From there, he would feed the birds by throwing the fish out singly to each bird at his own position on the dock and criticize them if they stole from each other, which happened pretty often, especially when the gulls came around. No one stole from the egret, however, all the birds kept their distance from him. The owner kept a good sense of humor about it though, chuckling to himself. It was amusing to say the least.

He also told me about how when hurricane Andrew came in 1992, all of the water was sucked out of the bay towards Florida and he knew that something really bad was going to happen. He was told to evacuate and decided to stay anyhow. It was really bad, but Homestead was hit the worst. When the water came back, it covered Key Largo and they lost some trees. Smaller keys, like Soldier Key (15 miles south of Miami Beach) were inundated and all but wiped clean of houses, trees and structures by the hurricane in no time. (See before and after photos below.) But it could have been worse, far worse, if Andrew had hit Miami.

Soldier Key Before

Soldier Key After

While I was on the mend, Sean was out exploring. He found a Cuban Café right next to our motel that served café Cubano and other Cuban delicacies. When I recovered, we went there daily for our morning fare.

Sean went to Silent World Dive Shop, which turned out to be only a block or so from our motel, and arranged for us to go on a dive with them later (I would be snorkeling) in the week. They were having a half price sale on wetsuits, he had one and I didn’t, so I needed to go try one on. So, one day when I thought I was feeling up to it, we went there and I went into the dressing room with the suit. If you have never donned a wetsuit, they are not easy to put on. I had broken out into a full sweat by the time I wriggled and wrestled myself into the thing on and zipped up. But, it fit like a (rubber) glove, so we bought it. By the time I squirmed my way out of the thing, I was completely exhausted and we went back to the motel for me to hit the chaise and see the pelicans get fed some more.

The John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park was just across Route 1 and down and the road a piece from our motel and they had two short hiking trails there, so we decided to test my energy level there. The trails were beautiful, winding their way through the mangrove swamps, with tamarind trees and glimpses of gorgeous beach and kayakers. I was energetic at first, but then got so tired that I had to sit on the elevated board walk for a minute to rest. That was not a good sign. I guess we were going to have to take it easy for a couple more days before we hit the water.

We could see folks snorkeling off the beach, but we never had the time to do this. Another reason to go back.

The elevated boardwalks were to protect the environment. We didn't get to kayak either.

A mangrove cuckoo. We didn't see one, but we could have...

So, it was back to the chaise and the hungry pelicans. The owner was disappointed to see me back there and gave me some words of encouragement.

“You’ll get into that water soon, Hon!”

Monday, October 16, 2006

White Pigeon Found - What to Do?

The first thing I do when I wake up early in the morning is go downstairs and turn on my fancy, shmancy espresso machine (we at Fair View are very serious about our espresso) to warm it up and get it ready to go,

and feed the official Fair View guard dogs, Laila (German Shepherd Dog) and Jenny (German Shepherd / Belgian Malinois mix). Here they are pictured helping us move stuff. Don't they look helpful?

Laila is in the background, Jenny in the foreground

Then I go out with the mutts for a short walk around the property.

This particular morning, Jenny rushed ahead down the dirt drive and grabbed a white pigeon from the driveway. It fluttered and protested and lost some feathers, but I commanded her to drop it and thankfully she did.

Don't hurt the boidie Jenny!!!

The bird hopped around the yard a bit, but did not seem able to fly. I was able to walk right up to it and grab it around the shoulders and wings, so that it could not fly away. It was so docile in my hands and gave me a look that said, “I just want to go home.” Or maybe that is just what I was projecting it was thinking. It was obviously somebody’s pet. I flipped it over and sure enough, it was banded on both legs. The red band on its right leg said, “2006 0026 AU NB”. So, I brought it into the house and put it into a cardboard box with a bowl of water. It went right for the water without hesitation.

I called animal control and spoke with an operator who took all of the information and said that they would page the officer. Time went by and animal control did not call back.

Sean got up and called the Humane Society. They said that it was probably a racing pigeon and gave him a number for someone who would take the bird locally. I called them and they said that they no longer offered that service.

I called the local pet store when they opened and the kindly owner gave me the number of a local man who owns racing pigeons. She said that he could take the bird, rest it for a couple of days and then release it to fly home. Alternatively, she knew someone who had a racing pigeon as a pet in a barn and would love to have another.

Sean called the Department of Environmental Protection and they used the band numbers and found the owner’s name and phone number. They advised that we rest and feed the bird for a few days and then release it to fly back to its owner.

Meanwhile, I walked to the local pet store and bought a 5 lb bag of pigeon feed.

I had transferred the bird to a cat carrier with its water. The minute I put the food in, the bird started feeding. It must have been hungry. It turns out that we are in the middle of a race corridor for pigeons. We googled, “What do I do if I find a lost pigeon?” and came up with the American Racing Pigeon Union site. There, we could have looked up the band numbers ourselves to find the owner and there were instructions on how to take care of the bird prior to release.

Since we were not really interested in caring for a bird and did not know what we were doing, we decided to call the local man who owns racing pigeons. I called him and he agreed to come and get the bird. He asked, “What are you feeding it?”

I replied, “Pigeon food.”

He said, “Oh.”

I said, “What do you feed your birds?”

“Racing mix.”

Well, excuse me, I thought to myself. I gave him directions and a half an hour later he showed up to get the bird. He turned out to be a really nice guy, any racing mix remarks aside. He quickly examined the bird’s wings and tail, and all primary flight feathers were present. He then opened the bird’s mouth and said that the bird had a slight respiratory infection and that was probably why it wasn’t able to finish the race. It would need at least a week of rest before release. He said that he used to race white birds but he lost too many to small hawks. I noted that we have Cooper’s Hawks nesting in our yard and he remarked that this bird was damn lucky.

A Cooper's Hawk

He said that he had some friends that were getting married and wanted to do a white dove release so he was going to get some white birds for that.

He put the bird in the little box he had brought and left. I was relieved to see the bird go and glad that it would be taken care of properly by someone who knew what they were doing. The whole lost bird thing took all day to resolve but now we know what to do if we find a lost pigeon AND so do you!

Animal Control called much later that evening to say that they considered pigeons to be wildlife and would not be showing up. I thanked them for getting back to me and told them how the problem had been resolved.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Fair View Welcomes New Links!

Today's new links are:


Synthetic Ego is a blog written by NarcissusAu, who is a competitive bodybuilder and successful entrepreneur. He also happens to like hot sex with other musclemen. NarcissusAU modernized his dad's business into a global corporation and now wishes to live a totally "out" life style. Join him on his journey as he merges his two worlds and visits the US. Adults only please.


Mutiny on the Bounty is written by Stratis and designed to make you love all things Greek, which is not really all that difficult when it is notably a beautiful place to begin with. There is the landscape and that includes the beaches

Myrtos Beach

and also the men.

Yummy Greek Man

Ah, yes Greece. A place I just must go sometime soon.

Enjoy the new blogs!

Friday, October 13, 2006

Friday Fantasy - Time to Close Up the Pool

It is that time of year to close up the heated swimming pool for the season. Some leaves have begun to fall and are floating on top of or have sunk to the bottom of the pool. Out to the pool house I go to get the pool cover and net to scoop out the leaves. On rare occasions, one will find a creature trapped in the water like a frog or a snake; once I found a really pissed off opossum.

Look at what I found in the pool this morning:

Isn't he cute? He probably went in there to stay warm. I'm not sure what to do with him after I pull him out of there. He looks so helpless. Of course I'll have to dry him off, but then what? Poor thing; I think he is quite chilled. It was kind of cold last night. I'll probably have to warm him up somehow. Any suggestions?

Photo credit: Alex

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Bookfield, Six Flags

One afternoon in bed, Evan said that he wanted to take me to Six Flags. I was stoked about it. But he asked me to stay in bed while he got up and moved around the room. He produced a small mechanical device, some pot and some cigarette papers.

“Ever tried pot?” he asked.

“No. Lots of people use it in school, but it was never offered to me. This would be my first time.”

“Cool.” He smiled, rolled a perfect joint using the mechanical cigarette roller, lit it, took a toke, and offered it to me. He said, “Pot smoke expands in your lungs, so don’t inhale too deeply.”

I inhaled, and he was right. I had to cough some out. I passed the joint back to him and he took another toke and passed it back to me. This time I was more careful. When we had smoked the whole thing, he asked me how I felt. I just felt really good. Happy; carefree.

He had borrowed a car from a friend so that we could drive there without being on his bike. It took about an hour and a half to get there.

First we went on the parachute ride where you are strapped into a seat alone and they raise you up really high, slowly and then drop you really fast as if you are sky diving. It was the most tremendous rush. More so I suppose because I was high to begin with.

Then we took a ride on the roller coaster. This one went up-side-down in one spot. Evan told me that the best way to experience it when high is to hold your hands up when you are up-side-down. He was right. It was another tremendous rush. I just don’t know any other way to describe it. I felt weightless for a moment. I never had so much fun on a roller coaster.

Then we stopped and lit up another joint in a spot where we were unlikely to get caught. After we finished it we took on the House of Fright.

It was really dark in there and scary things popped out of corners. He found a secluded corner and we made out. Like teenagers, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. We were stopped by someone who came out of nowhere and asked us to knock it off. I guess we weren’t the first ones to have that idea.

Next we went on a ride for children where we got into little boats shaped like swans or ducks that were tugged around an indoor water course. It was really dark in there. Some cute music or other played, while little figurines danced. We sat next to each other in the boat and kissed the whole time we were in there. We both got pretty excited.

The whole Six Flags experience was a high for both of us though I didn’t think they would use this story in their ads. It was a perfect introduction into the world of pot. We had to leave around nine to get me home in time. The ride home was sad for me. I just wanted to stay with Evan forever. But, I only had a couple more weeks to be there. Oh well, that was still a long way off from now.

After a while of driving, Evan turned to me and said, “Sue, I need to pull over to rest. I worry that I will fall asleep at the wheel again.”

I sure didn’t want to argue with him since he already had wrecked his truck, and I sure couldn’t drive. So we pulled over. He put his head in my lap and slept for maybe an hour before he began screaming in his sleep again. I woke him gently and he really freaked out when he saw he was waking in a vehicle. It took me some time to assure him that everything was okay. Then we drove on to my place. We kissed good bye and parted ways. I hated that we could not spend the night together after such a great day.