Apr
20
2008
A few days ago I hiked up the Marin hill to an Obama precinct-leader’s house, where I picked up some promotional materials: “Women for Obama” bumper stickers for Lulu and her friend Esmeralda, a sign for my front yard, and a poster for the gecko’s cage. Gecka, normally complacent, got all excited about her new decoration. For a full five minutes she cruised back and forth trying to climb it. I’ve never seen her get so excited about a presidential candidate.
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Unlike Gecka and me, my sister has been actively supporting Obama since the earliest days. Yesterday she took this photo of him in southeastern Pennsylvania, where the moment of truth has almost arrived. “I shook his hand, while holding a diaper, so he might touch it for posterity. I told him, ‘it’s clean’ and he laughed…” The other photo shows her with grandson Ryan at her local Obama HQ.
Apr
10
2008
As I’ve told you, my younger daughter is minoring in animal science at college. Today in the livestock and dairy judging class, they did a unit on breeding-cattle. I asked her what she learned.
Lulu: I didn’t really learn anything new. Just changing priorities for what we want in our cows.
Ginna: How can I change my priorities for my cows if I don’t have any priorities or cows?
L: You don’t need to, because I changed my own priorities. For you.
G: What HAD your priorities been?
L: Muscle and finish (fat). That’s for market steers — the ones you wanna EAT.
G: And now?
L: With the female cattle, you want decent balance and structure and depth.
G: Why do I want a deep cow? I guess I’d want a balanced cow because I hate when they fall over. And structure is good, else they’re all floppy. Do we eat cows and bulls, both?
L: Presumably. The market steers were all guy cows though.
G: You’re, uh, studying animal science, you say?
L: I’m not using technical terms because I don’t WANNA. I would say bull, except the edible cattle we’d been looking at were fixed, so they weren’t too manly anymore.
G: Wusses.
L: Yeah.
Apr
08
2008
Today Stella was stinky as a result of yesterday’s illness-induced mishaps. Unable to stand the stench as I labored at my computer, I logged off and gave Stella a bath.
Here, Stella knows something bad is about to happen. Her theory is, if she doesn’t look at me, I won’t see her:
Lather, rinse, repeat, repeat, repeat:
Shake, lick the tub, and escape:
She didn’t like the part at the end when I vacuumed her.
I’d never have believed it possible, but I have found lips that are superior even to those of a guinea pig:
These belong to my great-nephew Ryan. Imagine these lips ON a guinea pig, and your life will not have been in vain.
I’ve reached my verdict on Yahoo Answers: waste of time. Great idea, to have a one-stop place for the masses to exchange information. But its most visible inhabitants are flame-throwers who are light on grey matter, and those needing advice on romance. This morning I posted a simple question asking where pro-Tibet rallies are scheduled in SF tomorrow as the Olympic torch passes through town — its only stop in the US. With China cracking down on Tibetan protesters as the date of the Olympics approaches, it seems opportune to lend my immense body to bulk up an opposition rally. But my only responses were one glib snark and one full-fledged rant. Maybe I should re-join The Well. Those were good forums.
