bonnie and clyde

...they snuck through the gates, skirted all the alarms, evaded security, and they were out. With treasures in their arms they ran... ran through a mass of business suited humans, apparently oblivious of their surroundings. they ran, to a parked car waiting for them in anticipation. they hopped into their getaway and drove. drove as if nothing had happened.

they returned home, turning into the dusty drive and parked. neither one had said a word for the hour long ride. parked behind their house... they sat. neither moved. both stared out the windshield. no words were spoken. and after what seemed to be another hour, they turned to each other. what happened in that car cannot be spoken, but they left the car rejuvenated. it would be another few hours before they got the call. the call to deliver the package.

after showering and put on respectable clothes, tech tools used were placed in storage, behind loose wall stones - awaiting another day.

and then the phone rang. she answered it. it was a foreign voice. not the initial contact. she was not sure if this was a trick. had someone found out? but all the codes were correct - but this was not the agreed meeting point. they were to meet at the train station.

the train station was build a hundred years ago. it had gone to disrepair, but recently became gentrified - hosting a coffee shop and small boutiques. a place for yuppies, although not in a yuppie neighbourhood.

it was now 2:00, and they were to be there at 3, which did not leave them much time. they both got back into the car, and once again sat. hearts were pounding. adrenaline pulsing through veins. this could be the end - or the start of a very good life.

and with a kiss the car started...

hazy shade of winter

yeah - the clouds were hanging low when i left work today. it was beautiful.

so close and yet, so far...

images from the villita

The little green ball on ground is a Gold Drop Potentilla Potentilla fruticosa 'Gold Drop'. It wants full sun, I think it will be okay in this spot - it got a ton of it today.



Weeded... and another Gold Drop, without its drops of gold.



Here, I clipped back the grass away from the walk. Looks a lot prettier now.



I did read how to cut back the roses... I hope I did not kill them...



Evidence that I have not killed all the ivy...





This is where the garden is going next year I think. I'm going to stick the bricks into the ground. I don't know if I want them upright or flat yet.

and so, after reading the newspaper about the multipling papers, i left work, with this heavy on my mind. The only solution for me, at that moment in time was to pull up stray grasses, weeds, chrop more branches, and plant a few odds and ends. I think the yard looks nice. it is really shaping up. if i CHARGED my camera batteries, i would show how pretty it looks. it is starting to look like less of a weed patch and more of a playground for henrydog. oh wait... henry likes the weeds.

and, at this moment, i am writing on my back porch, on m laptom, on a fast, secure, wireless network. Yippee!

HEADLINES: Papers are having unprotected sex and multiplying like rabbits

September 7, 2006. Cincinnatio, Ohio. Papers laying on desks of offices around the country have had an increase in birth rates. As there is nothing to do, often for days, these flat, reincarnations of trees have found themselves madly making love and producing offspring, sometimes in excess of 10 new papers an evening. Why this sudden increase in birthrate? Some experts say that it is because the work is piling up so rappidly that these papers are being forgotton, sometimes abandoned and it is the only solice to procreate. Others say it is because of the poor planning on the part of the owner of the desk. Even when the papers are told to get in files or form piles, this does not remedy the situation. Something needs to be done immediatly. This is a problem, and birth control needs to be given freely to these lonesome papers.

short days, sweaters,
orange crunchy leaves,
runny nose, baths,
meatloaf, fires,
cuddling.

fall.

the kitchen..

so tonight - i think i will paint the little hallway that heads into my kitchen. it's going to be yellow - i still have 1/2 a gallon left from painting two walls. i did not realize how far a gallon of paint can go. i've practically painted my entire house yellow... well, not really.

i'll get a picture up after i'm done.

a taste of Santa Fe...

Instead of taking 25N to Santa Fe, this time we took Route 14 - the Turquoise Trail... Stopping at 2 very important places...

Number 1...









Number 2... Madrid, New Mexico... on old mining town... now a biker place. Totally cool joint.









And now to the show...



So, the show was held at "the rail yard"...





BARF. You shoulda seen the "dudes" dancing around...




snail after a good rain...

this week in review...

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

(that's the sound of a chainsaw...)







- and well, my GIGANTIC tomato plants! except there are only 2 small green tomatos on them at the moment. I am hopeful that there will be a couple more that appear...

well, today, i cut my grass, took a long, long shower, cleaned my legs, brushed out knots in my hair. it felt good. and then, i got my wireless to work. not completely, but i am writing this on my laptop with my british shows on in my room. it does not work downstairs - but i have a booster, that apparently will help with that. but i don't know how to do that.

just now, a drunk man was stumbling down the sidewalk and an icecream truck, playing the world's most irritating song "it's a small world" drove down the street...

yup.

you can't relive the past, Gatsby...

yeah. you can't. things change. people change. i don't think that i have changed all that much, but maybe i have. lately, i feel scatter-brained, i've become unaware of things around me. and subsequently, i'm not in control of my universe. yeah, there is a lot going on. but i should be able to take it by the reigns and get the horses under control. instead, i'm climbing to the top of the stage coach, my hat blew off, the ladies underneath are screaming, luggage is strewn under the wheels and left scattered on the road, and the horses are headed to the edge of a cliff.

oh dear.

relationships change. and maybe hesitancy is a bad thing. maybe to dive into something is okay. but it is scary. and i never thought of having that nervousness to this extent, i mean, i fall fast and then something happens, circumstances change and it takes a while to get back. and maybe, as optimistic as Gatsby was, maybe its pointless. but it shouldn't be. i have felt transient for so long. nothing is permanent, i go away, my friends go away. and now i'm here, with the villita. i'm staying. even at that, i am having trouble thinking i will be here, potentially, forever. i've lived here for 6 years. that's awhile. i've worked the same job for nearly 4. i guess, i just am not sure what i should be doing. i mean, i can do little things around the house, laundry and such, i can work and make a pretty catalogue, i can do lots of little things. i guess, that is what is confusing - i'm not sure what i should be doing. maybe that is why the horses are on a crash course.

The Shooting of Dan McGrew

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;
And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;
With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,
As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.
Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do,
And I turned my head--and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou.

His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze,
Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.
The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool,
So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.
In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway,
Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands--my God! but that man could play.

Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear,
And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;
With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,
A helf-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;
While high overhead, green, yellow, and red, the North Lights swept in bars?--
Then you've a hunch what the music meant...hunger and might and the stars.

And hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans,
But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means;
For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above;
But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowded with a woman's love--
A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true--
(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge,--the lady that's known as Lou.)

Then on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear;
But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear;
That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil's lie;
That your guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die.
'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it thrilled you through and through--
"I guess I'll make it a spread misere," said Dangerous Dan McGrew.

The music almost dies away...then it burst like a pent-up flood;
And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind with blood.
The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,
And the lust awoke to kill, to kill...then the music stopped with a crash,
And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;
Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you care a damn;
But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true,
That one of you is a hound of hell...and that one is Dan McGrew."

Then I ducked my head and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark;
And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark.
Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,
While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that's known as Lou.

These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.
They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so.
I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two--
The woman that kissed him and--pinched his poke--was the lady known as Lou.

The Extraction of the Stone of Madness

1475-80, Hieronymous Bosch

so, the sun might go down - but until it does i will water my half dead plants. i'm hot. i just spent an hour with the mothership. had a cold gin and tonic. maybe do some more laundry. it's funny how in the heat of the summer, i think about the snow and cozy winter time. i couldn't wait until the locus sang a few months back. but it's not fun hot. it's a draining heat that tears at your soul. and i would like to go outside and weed - move shit around - dig holes, but all i am doing is trying to keep my poor plants alive. and actually, i don't know what i'm doing. been working alot - at least i feel that i am. i think my catalogue is almost kinda on its way out the door.

i wonder if the end of the world is coming. the horsemen will ride through the streets of the earth, sickles and axes in their hands - and instead of 4, there are millions of them, so it all occurs simultaneously.

1498, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Albrecht Dürer

i hope WWIII doesn't happen. i don't have a gun. i have a mouthy pup and a machete. i am dangerous with a machete... almost chop my leg everytime i use it.

so yeah. that's today. even though it's hot, maybe i'll go wheal on one of my dead trees in the back.

1504, Last Judgement, Hieronymous Bosch

by E. A. Brininstool from Trail Dust of a Maverick, 1914

Juanita

Drear are the prairies; the ranges are silent;
Mournfully whispers each soft, passing breeze;
Down in the canyon and eddying murmur
Echoes the sigh through the giant pine trees.
Lone are the trails on the brown, dusty mesa,
Up where the gems of the star-world peep through;
Sadly the night-bird is plaintively calling --
'Nita, Juanita, I'm longing for you!

Out where the herds dot the range in the Springtime;
Out where the flowers you loved nod and sway,
Memory brings me a vision of sadness,
Brings me a dream of a once-happy day.
Over the trails you are riding beside me,
Under the canopied heavens of blue;
Smiling the love that your lips have repeated --
'Nita, Juanita, I'm longing for you!

When steals the night with its grim, dusky shadows,
As 'round the herd I am jogging along,
Your gentle face seem to lighten the darkness,
Each vagrant breeze seems to whisper a song;
Whispers a melody sweetly entrancing,
Telling me, dear, of your love ever true;
Whispers and echo which sets my heart dancing --
'Nita, Juanita, I'm longing for you!

cat and mouse

evolution - this is what it's come to.

the drawbridge

...still under construction...

and while posting, the little critters...

the drawbridge of the villita

and my door, now with its lead lines, is starting to show some color. the corner flowers with a splash of pink and a hint of yellow - the central diamonds hold the color of a late summer day sky...