Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Mother Nature: Her Last Stand in Silicon Valley (Part 2)

     Here we are, updating what has proven to be perhaps my most widely read article. Where we left off one year ago, my roommate and I had been forced into moving from this little enclave of ecological pastoralism to a smaller by a hundredth part apartment, on the opposite side of town. We were under the impression that work on the project (a co-housing development) would begin within weeks.
     Just three days ago it came to our attention that the developers have finally moved to begin work- one year later AND just two years- to the day- of the death of the man most responsible for renovating the old farmhouse and keeping it in a condition- such that it, as a historical landmark- would be considered for salvage, while all the other tree-butchery and the like went forward. Our friend Kurt Keiffer.
     All of the trees but two have been tagged for either removal or destruction. They recognize the market value of olive trees- at least, those will find new homes. But the large live oaks, the carob tree, the many pines and black walnuts- having outlived, apparently their aesthetic use for humanity- will soon meet the chainsaw. The large acreage will then be applied bulldozer and backhoe and work will begin creating the vast underground parking complex. The house will be removed- after they are done tearing off the kitchen, back porch, and half the attic- and set on the lot at another angle, so that the back door will now become the front door, and set upon new foundations.
     While we are happy we found new quarters "in time" it has been a lot longer than the excuse claimed by the developers as the cause of our own relocation. And like much of the Midpeninsula, another wild space- home to hundreds of birds and other creatures- now falls to the fell greed of the hand of Man.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

State of the Mind Post-Valentines 2-2013

   Here we are almost a month has gone by and no posts. Well... Life has been quite busy, what with, the latest developments in job search (once again, I refuse to go into discussing my relation to the economy) and the latest abominations oozing from the office of the Killer-in-Chief, which I do not feel like stating (once more, I said it well a year ago, I said it as best I could about a month or so ago, and I continue to be unimpressed by those developments in any positive fashion) and because I have been fiendishly working on pre-publishing editing, as well as writing a sequel to what will be, a "first" ebook with my collaborator.
   Big long-winded compound run-on sentence, huh? Well the only rules worth keeping aren't the ones worth breaking, so, deal. Anyway- so far as tending the garden goes, last night my upstairs neighbor- who's a recent emigre from Russia- brought us down three little cucumber starts she started on their balcony patio- they get a lot more sun than we do and it's almost too early to get more things going just yet- these I transplanted this morning and am crossing my fingers I do not lose their fruit to our many voracious squirrels hereabouts... I am now sitting on my first pot of homegrown carrots- many are small and spindly, but there's a number of nice fat "long" ones... the cauliflower plant has not yet decided to crown, hoping to see that happen in a month or two- lots of parsley, and my winter set of scallions are beginning to gain a little heft...
    The house is sad and less joyful with the departure of our dear buddy Kili back to the Cat House on the Kings, where they have told us he is coexisting well in the company of other cats, and he is apparently going to be much happier (and seems to remember the place from kittenhood) than he was defending our little yard from the seven other cats who make their homes here. And yes, it tore us up to give him up and send him away, but he refused to become an inside-at-night creature, and being a cat, my roommate decided it was best to change the situation for us than try to reprogram his eight year old brain any further, because THAT was not happening... Sometimes out of love you MUST give something you love up because best for all concerned. Carolyn was not getting a lick of sleep, and I was not far behind her. But I'll miss him, yes, very much. The CHOK says they will watch out for him, will continue to call him by name if they see him, and in other ways do all they can to ensure his safety in the general population.
    Meanwhile, Frankie the dog does not seem to miss the competition for her affections and attentions all so much, all too happy as well to not compete with mine, although he isn't going to get to sit on MY lap. He might pause to wonder, but I have seen other dogs in similar situations react with much more concern and curiosity as to "where did the cat go?" He's a rescue pet too, and he had it tough. So tough that he never saw food worth stealing he wouldn't want to. That included (s)- Kili's wet food, chicken that Kurt or myself bought which we turned our backs on, and the food on the front porches of our neighbors meant for the new little chihuahua puppy and the several cats across the way in the neighboring apartments.
     My friend Elizaveta (a penpal I made around 1989-90) in Kurtamysh, Kurgan, Russia, happened to witness the falling meteor yesterday, passing about 300 km from her location exploding over Chelyabinsk. Her son Cyril told me. I told him I had been concerned and thought of them, once I heard the news. But at least, they were not in Chelyabinsk at the time. I am so much more likely of getting creamed in a bike-car wreck than I am getting stoned by an asteroid, meteor, or terrorist attack...
     On the subject of terror attacks, I want to share with everyone how I cured my own personal paranoia...
In the early 1960's, Bob Dylan wrote a song called "Let Me Die In My Footsteps." This was all about the fallout-shelter paranoia years of the Cold War... basically the song says, if you love your country, do not fear to live inside it, go where you will, do what you want, if you're meant to go, then, "die in your footsteps." Better than to cringe in fear of something that may never come. And once I gave that song a few listens I had taken the advice to heart. It's as true of the "terrorist threat" as it was when the Cold War threatened to go hot. And people like Elizaveta and myself, we like to think, had a little to do with tearing down those walls erected by our nations to keep us all afraid of each other. "All over the world, people are people," she wrote to me two decades ago. You know it. All anyone wants or expects is the right to make a living, raise a family, and live with as little tragedy as possible, since every life is going to have a few of those. I can only pray that in coming years all this "endless war" bullshit comes to a screeching halt, and that my own country regains a little composure and respect in the eyes of the world community. If it keeps on losing it, I am pretty sure I am not going to be one of the factors. And a BIG thank you to all my readers, inside and outside the USA. Whoever you are, blessings to you all.