A FEAST FROM THE GRILL

The other night on my back patio . . .

. . . pineapple, lemon, corn on the cob, onion, peppers, zucchini, ready for the grill . . .

. . . joining some chicken breasts . . .

. . . and the heat is on . . .

. . . nearly done now as my stomach growls can be heard through the neighborhood.

It was delicious.  And, by the way, if you've never tried grilled pineapple you've missed one of the true culinary pleasures of life.

Bon appétit!

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

Oh, yes I did!  You all thought I wouldn't remember what day it was, didn't you?  Well I did.  So there.

Sometimes it's the smallest things in life that can drive you CRAZY! Know what I mean?

But we've discovered a way to make her feel better.

Here's one just for my step-daughter, the BRD, who seems to relate to these.

That may have stemmed from the "good old days".

Ah well, you can always count on the feline species to keep you amused.  Well.  Me, anyway.

Meanwhile, in the other room . . .

What's that?  You're not laughing yet?  Well . . .

Okay, that's it folks.  Unlike my friend above, keep smiling and have a wonderful weekend.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

California - the 1970's

Former South Vietnamese Prime Minister Nguyen Cao Ky

Madame Ky

and me

WILD KINGDOM

The finches have fled.  Well not fled, exactly, but they've abandoned their nest and their young.  Or fledged them though Judy doesn't think the babies had enough time to fledge.  But she had noticed over the past few days that the mama finch had stopped coming to the nest. Finally yesterday I got a ladder out for her and she climbed up to find a very neat but empty nest.  We hadn't seen any babies on the ground or seen any alarmed activity by the parents but then we've had other things to do than watch the finches.  At any rate, Judy took the nest down and disposed of it and cleaned off the pillar with a hose.  We'll see if they return to the same spot to create another nest.

They still visit the bird bath in the back yard frequently though we have yet to see one actually bathe.  But they like the water to drink, as do the Mountain Jays that visit from time to time.

Oh, and we did have a snake visitor the other day.  The cats spotted it first as it came out of the front yard and into the street, when Judy spotted it.  I went outside to take a look.  He looked like a rattlesnake but when I got fairly close I could not see any rattles and he didn't threaten.  Later I found one like him via The Google and decided it was a Long Nosed Snake, non-venomous.  Here's the one I found on the web.

Ours was very similar.  When I went out a few minutes later to get a photo of him he had crossed the street and disappeared.

The Google says they feed on lizards and amphibians.  Nothing about baby birds who have fallen from their nest and are helpless on the ground.  So we can forget about that, I think.

The bunnies are still around in the evening.

Last night we had two in the yard at once and then I caught a glimpse of a couple more running in the street out back.  We don't have any garden plants so they're harmless to us and fun to watch. And it gives Judy something else to put water out for.

The wind is quieter today but seems to be indicating a desire to kick up once again.

Such is life in MY little Wild Kingdom.

THE WIND

The f***ing wind is blowing.  

Again.  

Still.

It's been blowing like this for days.

Gusting up to 30 miles per hour.

The trees are whipped around constantly.

Prescott Valley is known for its spring winds.  But this, for crying out loud, is the middle of June!  When is it going to stop?

Awhile ago, Judy said the front porch is a mess of leaves.  She wants to go out and sweep it off.  But the damnable wind keeps blowing and more and more leaves keep falling.

We were out this morning and heard a woman in an office say "all the trash from my neighbor's yard is now over in mine."

When the wind blows like this I am often reminded of a line from Slouching Towards Bethlehem, a collection of short stories from decades ago by Joan Didion.  She was writing in one of the stories about the Santa Ana winds of Southern California.  She wrote something like, when the Santa Anas are blowing, the housewife cleaning up the kitchen after dinner idly runs her thumb along the edge of a butcher knife while absently studying her husband's jugular vein.

Those, my friends, are some evil winds.

Here in Arizona, just like in California, year after year of drought have the forests and the brushlands bone dry and only one spark can set off a conflagration.

Another fire was burning yesterday in once-beautiful Oak Creek Canyon, much of which was charred only a couple of weeks ago by a fire that lasted for days.

Several other fires have been reported around the state.  News reports say the entire state is in high fire danger.

And the f***ing wind is blowing.

PRESCOTT VALLEY DAYS

The latter part of last week was set aside for Prescott Valley Days in my town.

A carnival was set up with lunch-defying rides.  Unfortunately I visited about noon on Saturday and it apparently was too hot to open up.

So I ventured inside Tim's Toyota Center to see what was going on. Not much, as it turned out.  This group of "synchronized walkers" was pacing back and forth as Alan Jackson's "Proud to Be An American" blared forth from a loudspeaker.

In the hallways a quilting display was the main attraction.

There was even one dedicated to Jimmy Buffett.

Apparently quilters are getting younger.

A model train display had been advertised but it consisted of just two small tables with trains going around oval tracks.  I couldn't bring myself to photograph them.

There had been a parade earlier in the day but I had missed it.

A number of booths were operating, selling metal cactuses and javelinas, for example.

Don't think I'd want a herd of these in my front yard.

Or these -  inflatable Japanese dolls.

The best part of the celebration for me?  Plenty of fried food!

Or you could opt for what the vendor was calling Barbecue on a Stick.

It looked like the Indonesian Satay my wife fixes every once in awhile. But who am I to argue.

P-V Days!  Come one, come all!

FATHER'S DAY 2014

I can't remember ever calling him "father".  He was always "Dad" to me and my brother.

He was my single father, as they're known these days, from the time my mother died when I was 13.

He worried a lot about that and whether he was doing a good enough job.  I was a mischievous kid and got into my share of trouble, though my scrapes were nothing compared to what kids do today.

He was a good Dad and I was lucky enough to have the chance to tell him that more than once.  And I was able to dig down beneath my North Dakota crust and tell him I loved him.

Franklin Berry Taylor

1903-1980