The Big Green House

First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is

So. I guess you guys want to know about the volcano, huh? You’ve probably seen the AP story already. Well, here’s a statement from the USGS that makes it sounds as if we’ll be having more of the same sometime soon.

The funny thing is, I didn’t even know about the venting today until I received an email from Dana, all the way back in New York. Mt. St Helens is about 90-100 miles southwest of here, so it’s not so much on our radar. Although, oddly enough, Science Girl and I were discussing the possibility of making a road trip down there some weekend to see how the reforestation was coming along. I guess we’ll be postponing that for the time being.

The mountain I’m more concerned about is The Mountain, AKA Mt. Rainier. It’s due. And when it goes, it’s gonna be a bad day for a lot of people around the south end of the Sound.

I’ll be sure to take pictures.

It's uncanny*

Aluminum beer bottles? Isn't that, like, a sign of the apocalypse or something? I mean, beer from an aluminum can tastes worse than beer from a glass bottle – not hugely so, but there is a definite drop-off in quality, as far as I can tell – so why wouldn’t that be the case with an aluminum bottle? And why would you want to make packaging that was even more resource-intensive than a normal beer can?

I predict a swift death for this product. Then again, I never thought the Bacon Wave was a good idea either, and look how it’s taken off.

*I'm so going to hell for that title, aren't I?

Way down below the ocean... no, wait, it's right over there

The continent of Atlantis was an island which lay, before the great flood, in the area we now call the Atlantic Ocean. So great an area of land, that from her western shores those beautiful sailors journeyed to the South and the North Americas with ease, in their ships with painted sails. To the East, Africa was a neighbor, across a short strait of three miles.

The great Egyptian age is but a remnant of The Atlantian culture. The antediluvian kings colonized the world. All the Gods who play in the mythological dramas, in all legends from all lands, were from fair Atlantis.

Knowing her fate, Atlantis sent out ships to all corners of the Earth. On board were the Twelve: The Poet, the Physician, the Farmer, the Scientist, the Magician, and the other so-called Gods of our legends - though Gods they were.

And as the elders of our time choose to remain blind
Let us rejoice and let us sing and dance and ring in the new

Hail Atlantis!

Just a hunka-hunka burnin'...um

A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to imagine what it would smell like living next door to 3,000 cows. Well, the ante has been upped: a three acre manure lagoon has been burning for the past four days. Not just manure, but flaming manure. Very impressive.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that Royal City and Ferndale are about 250 miles apart, with a mountain range in between them. So it’s not the same manure.

And no, I’m not obsessed with cowshit. Bullshit, yes; cowshit, no. It’s a subtle distinction, but such is the way of the world.

Cowpie a la mode

For those of you who’ve lead entirely urban existences, I’d like to extend my condolences. You don’t know what you’ve missed. Granted, I live in a Big City (yes, Seattle is too a Big City) and don’t see myself moving anytime soon. Still, country life has a lot going for it: the freshest produce you’ll ever see, peace and quiet, next-door neighbors who are half a mile away, etc.

And there are drawbacks: for example, imagine living next door to 3,000 cows confined in only 200 acres. (Sounds big, I know, but it’s not, really.)

Death of a clown

While I’ve been staring vacantly out the window and contemplating the late 70’s catalogue of The Kinks… well, that makes it sound like I was actually thinking. In truth, I had “Permanent Waves”, from Misfits stuck in my head this afternoon. It’s now mutated into “Sleepwalker”, from the album of the same name. There are better songs on both albums, but those are the ones that came to me. What can ya do?

Hmm. Lemme start over, as I seem to have digressed somewhat.

While I’ve been staring vacantly out the window, Science Girl and Science Mom, being who they are, have been researching bald eagles & whether or not they have a taste for pussycats. Here’s what they’ve come up with: according to the bald eagle expert at UW that Science Mom spoke to, there is a mating pair that are currently nesting at a golf course less than a quarter-mile from Science Manor. This would explain why I saw the bird circling the neighborhood. She also said that bald eagles will generally only attempt to pick up critters (usually fish, sometimes hapless bunnies or rats) less than half their own weight, confirming the information Science Girl had found online. Since the upper range for eagle weight is around 12 pounds, and since Martin tips the scales at a robust 16 pounds of very sleepy feline, he’s probably pretty safe lounging in the midday sun on the back porch.

Thank the various gods that someone around here can do something practical.

Rogue waves

I received an email today from steb, an actual regular reader (see, I told you there was such a thing) who also attended the 50 Foot Wave show Friday night. He was kind enough to send a picture he’d taken of Ms. Hersh at work; you can see a gallery of his shots from that night here; click on “pictures”, then on “27 February 2004”. Here's the one he sent me:

Directly behind Kristin , you can see a blue and white “tsunami evacuation route” sign. If you’ve ever driven along the Oregon or Northern California coast, that sign will be a familiar one. SG and I saw quite a few of them while on vacation this summer. They’ve always struck me as being essentially futile in nature, since tsunamis are known for moving at a pretty good clip until they hit shallow water – at which point you’re screwed if you’re standing there looking at the evacuation route sign. I know that technology has gotten to the point where most potential tsunamis can be tracked well in advance of when they might come ashore, but it still seems like a “feel good” warning to me. It’s not unlike the Civil Defense community fallout shelters they had back when I was a kid. People find it reassuring to know that there’s a plan in place, even if it’s unlikely to be of any use in an actual emergency.

On another note entirely, steb reminded me of something I meant to mention yesterday: the odd sound mix that night. The vocals were, for all intents and purposes, buried under all the guitar. Not sure if that was an artistic choice, a side effect of the way the room is configured (there’s a large, open bar area just off the stage room), or the sound guy falling down on the job. Deaf as I am I noticed it, as did Science Girl and steb. Not a huge point, but there it is.

To sleep, perchance to dream

Given my semi-chronic insomnia, I now have a built-in excuse for why any given post might suck like a drunken cheerleader on prom night. It’s not my lack of insight or my piss poor grasp of the rules of English grammar that’s to blame, it’s my failure to nap that particular afternoon.

Keep this in mind, kids.