Casualties are all around me.

Tuesday afternoon I found this bird lying on its back in the dirt at the edge of the driveway between the awning shop and my grandparents' house.  Its eyes were open but its neck was at a weird angle and it seemed only able to move its feet a little bit.  I thought its neck might have been broken, but I couldn't really know.  It was clearly dying.

I picked it up as gently as I could and held in in my cupped hands.  It was so light and soft and it looked at me and blinked and panted with its little dark beak open.  I carried it over to the big oak tree in the middle of the yard and put it in the middle of a tuft of grass so it could die somewhere better than on the rocky dirt of the driveway.  

I considered killing it, but I decided that killing it would be selfishness cloaked in mercy because I didn't really know what it wanted.  I wanted to protect its right to witness its death on its terms, so i left it alone and didn't tell anyone it was there.

I went back to my sewing. An hour or so later, I returned to the lee of the tree where I had put down expecting and kind of hoping (again for selfish mercy's sake) to find it dead, but it was taking deep urgent breaths and its eyes opened when I knelt down and looked at me.  So I left it again and we all went to lunch.  

It rained while we ate and I checked on the bird when we got back from work.  Its breast feathers looked disturbed by the rain and it was breathing in measured gasps, but it opened its eyes again as I looked at it.  So I left it alone. When we finished work at five, it was still breathing.  

I looked for it yesterday, but it was gone without a trace.  

Some folks we know

Dylan and Colleen hung out with me after work 2 weeks ago.  

Thats me in the picture.  I mean, thats a picture of me I'm holding in this picture.  Its a school photo I think 5th grade or so.  Now its taped on the ice machine in the server station behind the dining room, embellished with a mustache and eye patch.  

Ars Awnica

I spend a lot of my time at the awning shop making straight lines, cutting with the hot knife, a German hand tool that melts the synthetic fabric we use most of the time. The fused edge of the cut eliminates the need for hemming the fabric.

Breaktime

I think I'm going to give Andy Goldsworthy a run for his money.

1 Cousin, 3 screens

A yummy good morning

Waiting for lunch.

On the wait list at Cafe Martin. Roger is standing right next to the
service station in the way of the servers. I prefer to wait outside.

Every time I see this...

 I saw these guys working on the floor at a Gamespot in Santa Rosa earlier this week.   When I see some crack in public, I'm always compelled to look for a pen.  Because I want to avoid bodily harm and embarrassment, I usually just try to snap a secret picture instead. 

The Robin Nest

The eggs in the grapevine above my porch have hatched.  I hold my camera up and take pictures instead getting my head up there, hopefully this is less alarming to the mom and dad shrieking in the trees.  

We went, we ate, we had foodbabies.

Come and get me Pa Predmore!

Late Breakfast

After getting back from some early morning time at the Cafe (don't ever charge for WiFi, it makes you look stupid and greedy BTW), and after a little nap, I made myself some breakfast: Dry cured bacon, fried eggs, iced coffee, and granola with fruit and yogurt.  It was great.  

I'm reading "A Canticle for Leibowitz"

(I had to look up "canticle," it means a song based on a Psalm from the bible.  I feel so secular.).  It is a post apocalyptic story about southwestern monks who preserve what writing and knowledge they can protect in the dark ages after an atomic holocaust. I'm realizing it spans a much greater time than I thought when I began to read, and is turning out to be rather gripping.

Recovery

Yesterday I was sick with a cold.  It came on the night before at CC Blue, a sushi joint here in St. Helena.  I wanted to blame the Sakehito (a sake mojito served up), but as it progressed from headache to feverish runny nose party, I had to accept the truth.  

I borrowed Deb's car and drove down to Napa looking for some suitable clothes for our big meal, some cat items and some Sand Dabs.

I was gonna cook the Sand Dabs up last night, but I was too pooped.  Deb made us some lovely asian-y noodle stuff with sauteed vegetables and lots of nice spices.  I'm crediting that, and our old roomate Christine's 800mg ibuprofen for my near total recovery over night.

In other, very intriguing news someone other than Kitty had a little sleepover last night... I'm all ears.