mallorys_camera

When I woke up this morning my air purifier was making an appalling racket. Except it wasn't the air purifier but the bar fridge, whose motor was in its dying throes one more time. But last time it did this there was no death rattle, so I think now it must truly be foutu. The rattle stopped when I turned it off and then back on, but the fridge definitely wasn't cooling anything. So now I must get my breakfast from downstairs again. I try to tell myself that I did this on an unoperated knee five years ago, but I was also a good twenty pounds lighter five years ago. Oh well. Shall be doing All The Exercises before breakfast again and hope that works.

Bar fridges don't cost that much but hiring people to carry the old one down and the new one up does. Next door's owner did it last time but I haven't seen him in several years and don't quite feel like relying on the kindness of strangers. I went off and booked me a massage to help with the owies instead.

Then took my shoes over to the repair place. He says he can mend the fraying back heel as well so I said OK, then it turns out it costs $80 just for that and 120 for the resoling. With tax that comes to the cost of a new pair. I hesitated for a second but ultimately decided that no, I didn't want to give more money to the Trump-supporting founder of New Balance-- mend the damned things and hope they last another ten years. In the meantime I'm wearing my older pair of boat shoes, which are slightly too narrow even if they're boats, but feel like they actually give me more stability when standing on uneven ground. If true, I might even get some of those vines out of the hedge, which I can't reach from SND's side.

summersgate

I didn't paint or draw an "art a day" picture today. Instead I spent my time painting backgrounds on both sides of these pieces of paper that I'm going to use as pages in my next everything book.

Close up of the intricacies in an orchid. Flowers are amazing.

Jan and I hiked at Wolf Creek Narrows near Slippery Rock today. It turned out to be a fabulous day with sun and only a little chilly. The frosts we had recently must have affected some of the woodland wildflowers. The trillium flowers were all wilted and dried up and there were no bluebells at all. Mid May is usually the best time for those kinds of flowers. The may apples were stunted too. Still a pretty walk in the bottomland woods.

That bright green on the water is duckweed.

bill_schubert

I've got the phone on my stand watching the goings on while I computer.

mallorys_camera

Spent much of yesterday trying to parse how Flavia will react to the news of Neal's death, since I don't want to repeat the Mimi phone call even from a Rashomon view.

Maybe she replays the events of the weekend they just spent together, wondering what she didn't see? I dunno. It irks me that I'm so removed from the creative source that these kinds of plot details aren't flowing! I blame the Schlock gig.

###

In other news, there was frost last night! You can't really plant while frost still rules the night. Hopefully, that will be the last of it.

Also, the New Paltz Community Garden Row Check Committee dinged my garden, citing "Needs general tidying of odds & ends."

What the fuck does that mean?

The garden is vast, which is why they rely on ridiculous bureaucratic measures like a Row Check Committee I suppose, but still. There are no authoritarians like left-wing progressive types who are suddenly put in charge of something.

You have to join a committee, too. I joined the Events Committee. It's filled with the Queen Bee types that 20 years ago, as the mother of a high school jock (Ichabod!), I spent my days avoiding. There's a text thread. The text thread is where these women vie with one another over which delicious treat they will be bringing to the next event—

I will bake cupcakes! 🧁 🧁🧁

I will bring hibiscus, elderberry, and mint tea so we can do an herbal tea tasting! 🍵🍵🍵

I will bring wholesome muffins! (No emoji. She lost points.)

I will not bring a goddam thing!

###

They've made a movie from Remarkably Bright Creatures, which was one of my favorite books a couple of years back, so last night I watched it.

Surprisingly good!

I mean—not a cinematic masterpiece or anything. But Sally Field and Lewis Pullman are excellent in the leading roles, the evocation of life as usual in a pretty little town in the Pacific Northwest was engaging, and the CGI octopus was awesome. It's a sentimental movie without being cloying. I cried buckets!

Octopuses have always fascinated me as the prime example of convergent evolution. For example: Their eyes have a cornea, lens, iris, and retina, the same system humans and other vertebrates use, and yet humans and octopuses diverged from their common ancestor 500 million years ago, long before the development of ocular organelles in either phylum.

They are extremely intelligent, but their neurons aren't myelinated (i.e. insulated) the way vertebrate neurons are. These neurons are able to transmit signals rapidly because they are so thick. Most of an octopus's neurons are not centralized into a brain but spread among their tentacles, which are not mere arm analogs but sophisticated sensory organs.

And despite Remarkably Bright Creatures' remarkably appealing Marcellus, octopuses are not social in the slightest. They have no equivalent to cultural learning. Both males and females die shortly after a reproduction cycle is complete, which makes for short lifespans, typically between one and five years. This is really fascinating to me because, as far as I can tell, vertebrate intelligence evolved as a tool for managing social interactions. I mean, what other function does intelligence perform? So, if they're not social, why did octopuses become intelligent?

poliphilo

John Tenniel's illustrations to the Alice books are definitive- and all the artists who have come after him have worked in his shadow. In spite of that there have been a lot of them.

The very first illustrator, preceding Tenniel, was Lewis Carroll himself. His pictures weren't for public consumption but accompanied the MS of what was then entitled Alice's Adventures Underground. They are amateur but spirited. Here's how he chose to picture Alice- as a pre-Raphaelite maiden with long tangly locks....

Lewis-Carroll-Alice-Under-Ground-17.jpg.webp

Lewis-Carroll-Alice-Under-Ground-17.jpg.webp

There are some real oddities in the bunch. Mabel Lucie Atwell, purveyor of chubby, rosy-cheeked children to the Middle classes, had a go. Here's her White Rabbit- cute and unthreatening

And here- at the opposite extreme- is Salvador Dali's White Rabbit- who seems intent on biting your head off. "Mary Ann, Mary Ann, fetch me my gloves this moment". Dali's Alice is not to be parted from her skipping rope. She has it in all his pix. And why not?

82ec6aff-d4c7-478d-89bf-20b05bc59c95_sd7.jpg.webp.jpeg

82ec6aff-d4c7-478d-89bf-20b05bc59c95_sd7.jpg.webp.jpeg

The greatest and most influential illustrator post-Tenniel is Arthur Rackham. He updates Alice to his own Edwardian era- and his compositions are mostly crowded and unsettling. Here's the Duchess in her kitchen with the cook lobbing dishes at her. Cool!

arthurrackham_alice7.jpg.webp

Finally back to basics. Here's one of Lewis Carroll's photographs of the girl who inspired the stories, Alice Pleasance Liddell. I was asked why the Alice in my AI illustrations wasn't blonde- and this is the answer.....

poliphilo

"Have the courage to be disliked" says Fraya Mortensen in a Youtube video that tumbled into my pathway this morning. I'd never heard of her before, but that's synchronicity for you; when you need to be told a thing someone or something will make sure you get the message.

Yeah, there are people who dislike me, most hurtfully members of my own family, but so what? That's their business. Nothing to do with me. And the worst thing I can do is bend to their opinion and put on an act to make myself more likeable. It's better to be disliked than inauthentic. Everything that happens in the world is neutral- just energy playing itself out- and it's I who accord value to it and call it good or bad and feel it as good or bad. This is a hard saying- but something the very wise- especially in the Buddhist tradition- have been saying since forever.

Never resent, never explain, just be the Truth that is baked into your clay.

You have limitations. Accept them.

flemmings

Eventually got myself downstairs this morning after virtuously exercising for half an hour and doing 2.5 Squaredle games, at which I remembered Oh yeah I was going to take my shoes in to be resoled. But having learned to be cautious, I googled John's Shoe Repair and of course it's closed Mondays. So I did a white wash instead. Which turned into a pink wash because I thought washing coloureds in cold wouldn't make them bleed and there was this pair of red pants that I will never fit into that I intended to launder and donate. I don't actually mind the bleed-- underwear and socks, who cares?-- because I also washed a new off-white t-shirt, and a pale pink shirt will show the dirt much less. Or the food, rather, because what stains my shirts is things dropping from the chopsticks I can no longer manage with my arthritic hands. I was tempted by this clothing brand since it seems much thinner than the other t-shirts I have, the ones that can only be worn in a very narrow window of temperatures ie between 17 and 19C. Anything more and even tank tops start to be too thick.

Hung the laundry that wasn't socks and underwear on the line and then left it there. Tomorrow will be equally as blowy and dry as today so if it gets damp overnight it will be dry by tomorrow afternoon.

Finished Emilie and the Hollow World which was well enough, though I couldn't figure out how the hollow world works. Also I suspect that Martha Wells is like Mary Renault in that she does first person infinitely better than third. Her third person narrative style reads tapwater to me, whereas no one can mistake Murderbot's voice for anyone but Murderbot.

Had another stab at making potato croquettes. This time I sauted the onions until they caramelised which definitely helps the flavour, but only chopped the potato, my elbows and my blender not being up to grating. So I had to cook the potatoes a bit along with the caramelised onion, and when steaming in water didn't work, dumped the remainder of a bottle of Pepsi into the mix, just to add to the sweetness. Then blended the mixture which wouldn't blend until I added more liquid which then made it into soup. Flour and egg helped but this is still not optimal. Presumably I need a proper food processor but frankly it's not worth it. Potatoes and oil are not supposed to be in my diet anyway, even if it's olive oil.

bill_schubert

somedayseattle

Erica and I were walking up to Dunkin’ Donuts on our twice weekly venture with Leah AD (Activities Director) and Glennard Skynyrd. We had coffee, chatted, laughed and eventually decided to head back. We reached the intersection of Six Forks/Shelley Road. This is where we normally cross Six Forks, one of the busiest thoroughfares in Raleigh. The walk sign illuminated and we got about halfway across the intersection when two SUVs turned left off Shelley Road and cut us off. They came too close while breaking the law. As they went past us, I politely inquired “Excuse me, old chaps...are you unaware that we, the pedestrians, hold the right of way at an intersection? It would be quite unfortunate if in your haste to get to your destination you might cause injury or harm to one of us merely enjoying a morning stroll" but by the time I finished they had gotten past us so I pleasantly waved them goodbye.

(EDIT-According to the "From Chip's Brain to Reality” translation guide, I apparently said “You stupid m*******r! You almost hit us, you g**** n yuppie piece of s**t. Come back and face me, a**hole. Even in a wheelchair, I’ll kick your f*****g ass" and then I saluted them with two 1-fingered peace signs.)

Maybe I was out of line, but I kind of take the possibility of being run over by a yuppie scumbag seriously. If you were just Erica and Leah AD, who are both fully abled that would be one thing. But I’m in a wheelchair and Glennard uses a Rollator. We can’t just jump out of the way because you have to get to Starbucks, you obnoxious piece of moose excrement.

Not only do these two dicks need to lose their license, they should lose their SUVs, houses, families and jobs. They should be forced to work on a road crew where they will eventually be run over by some other yuppie dicks in SUVs.

It’s the circle of life.

bill_schubert

I bought a bird feeder for Dana. It is a total PIA since like every company they try to maneuver you into sending them money on a regular basis and micromanage settings in weird ways. But it is a cool feeder. Fairly well designed but for the fact that it uses about the same amount of electricity as Manhattan (I've got a solar panel on the way).

But I got it mounted in a place that Dana can get to it and where it has a good view.

We've got food in it but no birds right now. It sends alerts and takes a picture when they get there and, of course, AI will tell you all about the birds and I think will report them to the big bird database in the sky.

I think it will also project up to our TV. I'm resting my brain after setting it up before I try that but it would be a pretty nice screen saver to just had the bird feeder on the TV.

Now I need to nap.

summersgate

White Orchid.

rebeccmeister

What a weekend!

I don't remember how much I've blogged about this particular project, but over the weekend a couple other people and I finally put on the Bike Valet for our city's big annual spring festival, Tulip Fest. The bike valet built off of what other people got started last fall for a community street fair. It has felt like a somewhat odd "in" for me for bike advocacy, but in the long run, that's fine.

Step 1 for the bike valet was talking with the right people who organize Tulip Fest to get on their radar. Helpfully, they were able to supply perimeter fencing for us, whew! Step 2 was gathering up the supplies, including that sign-painting party about a month ago. Getting the supplies over to the site is its own adventure. I've been helping the rowing club haul supplies to and from this festival every year since moving out here, because the festival is located in a park where car access and parking are complicated. Hauling things on a bike trailer, NOT so complicated!

The bike valet supplies were a fairly big load, however:

( the ins, outs, ups, and downs... )

summersgate

While Jules and I were in walmart yesterday I got the idea that I'd like to get an orchid. Kathy was telling me while I was in Florida with her about how easy they are to grow. Jules bought me this one as a mother's day gift. Score!

mallorys_camera

Mother's Day?

Completely bogus!

A "holiday" invented by Hallmark cards and the struggling florist industry.

Did any revolution ever take place on the second Sunday in May? Did some pious prioress have her breasts hacked off so she could apotheosize to the Church's top saintly sales team?

No!

But I'm willing to cut an enormous amount of slack to any holiday that involves floral tributes and chocolates for moi. And the BoyZ came through! A magnificent bouquet, a lifetime supply of those ultra-rich Lindor chocolate truffles. And phone calls!

###

In other news, I hit three garden supply stores yesterday, and none of them had sieves, so I guess I'm gonna have to order one online. I did make it to my garden, too, where I had time to replant some of the peas I first put in a month ago (out of a whole pack of seeds, only six or so seedlings sprouted) and take out approximately 10 lbs of nettles (damn those little motherfuckers grow fast!) before it began to pour.

This has been a very, very cold spring with frosty nights well into May. But Mother's Day is the official end of the frost season, so I'm gonna start planting in earnest. I have a couple of plucky baby cucumbers ready to go and a plastic bin of tomato seedlings looking for a good home. (The woman who gave them to me told me they came from a supermarket Roma tomato that she forgot about and one day exploded into seeds—so I don't know how hardy they are. Supermarket vegetables are not bred for their propagative properties.)

summersgate

No pictures. I have nothing to offer this morning except words. Thinking of Noah and the fact that he will probably soon lose his mom. She has cancer, in a lot of places. There are such sad things in this world. But then I was outside a while ago doing the chicken chores and hearing the bird songs in the trees. That is a place full of life and hope. We have a lot of trees in our yard and it seemed like each individual tree had a bird in it broadcasting its song. Because I couldn't see any of the birds it felt the tree itself was making that sound. Each tree had its own song. Loud. Little tiny birds are capable of making such big sounds! I couldn't tell by sight who the birds hidden in the trees were but my merlin app said that there were northern house wrens, american redstarts, robins, white crowned sparrows, baltimore orioles and wood thrushes. The wood thrush was right in front of where I stood listening. I have heard that song many times in this yard over the years. A beautiful flute like song. I'm wearing the hearing aids again today. Going to try and get used to them. They say it takes one to 4 months (!) of wearing them before it feels normal. I'm going to give it a better try this time. If for no other reason than for the birds.

I've been noticing how alive with birds nature is right now. It's kind of amazing how devoid of birds we are in the winter. You can walk many miles in the woods in winter and not see or hear a single bird. But now the woods are full of them. Constant songs. I have a baby monitor in the chicken coop so I can hear what's going on in there and I have second baby monitor just outside it in the yard. Sitting here in my room I just now heard the wood thrush again.

Thinking about Noah and how people cope when they have terrible things happening. There has to be relief, some kind of relief or it will crush you.

poliphilo

Picture Diary 131

1. Warhol goes upmarket

2. Skinwalker

3. Loup Garou

4. The governer makes a speech

5. The hook

6. The way into the hill

poliphilo

They say you never die in dreams, but I came close to it last night.

Gangsters were murdering members of the clergy. A female priest had already been killed. A male priest demonstrated how to thwart a knifeman by dropping to the ground and curling into a ball. We were told not to be to worried because the gangsters had little enthusiasm for the work and if you dodged them they wouldn't pursue you because they were eager to get away to the golf course.

I was in the back garden (of the house I grew up in) with my mother. The dog started to bark and we realised someone had entered the house from the front. I went to the back door and the hitman met me there. He stood a little above me, lowered his shotgun and gave me both barrels in the stomach at point blank range. "Goodbye" I said to my mother and the world in general.

The hitman, looking distraught, said something that amounted to "Sorry."

poliphilo

They say you never die in dreams, but I came close to it last night.

Gangsters were murdering members of the clergy. A famale priest had already been killed. A male priest demonstrated how to thwart a knifeman by dropping to the ground and curling into a ball. We were told not to be to worried because the gangsters had little enthusiasm for the work and if you dodged them they wouldn't pursue you because they were eager to get away to the golf course.

I was in the back garden (of the house I grew up in) with my mother. The dog started to bark and we realised someone had entered the house from the front. I went to the back door and the hitman met me there. He stood a little above me, lowered his shotgun and gave me both barrels in the stomach at point blank range. "Goodbye" I said to my mother and the world in general.

The hitman, looking distraught, said something that amounted to "So

poliphilo

They have some comparatively modern chairs at the Lewes Meeting House, but they also still have benches. Highly traditional and all that but damn uncomfortable. O, but our ancestors were hardy!

Many of those ancestors are buried in the garden at the front of the building. I was looking at the headstones yesterday with Margaret. The burials date from the late 18th to the early 20th century but all the headstones are exactly the same- same shape and size, same very plain lettering. In the larger world styles in funerary monuments were constantly changing- and a 20th century headstone is wholly unlike an 18th century one- but the Quaker headstone is so lacking in style it's a style classic, beautiful in its simplicity. You couldn't improve on it so why try? Besides Equality is, hand in hand with Simplicity, a Quaker virtue- and it would be reprehensible to attempt to go one up on one's forebears.

We were in Lewes for an Area General Meeting. The Quaker way of doing things- "right ordering"- is slow and laborious and I could wish we'd streamline it. We took a decision- appointed a couple of people to perform a particular job- and then, because someone pointed out that it hadn't been done by the book, we had to do it all over again- with the same result. As always at these gatherings I look round and note how old everyone is. Was there anyone there under 60? Possibly one, possibly two. Younger Quakers do exist but they don't have much enthusiasm for sitting on benches ordering things rightly......

fauxklore

I had intended to get some catching up done over the past few days, but had underestimated how many other things I had to do. And I'm about to head halfway around the world tomorrow, so I suspect I won't get anything more done tomorrow.

I intended to do some catching up here, but I also had to do things like unpacking and opening mail and a bunch of household nonsense, etc. So here is a list of what I have yet to write about:

1) my 50th high school reunion

2) the trip I just got home from which included:
a) the Channel Islands (Jersey and Guernsey)
b) London
c) the Fforde Ffiesta in Swindon
d) Brighton
e) back to London
f) a bit of a rant about hotels

3) the trip I am about to leave on (which will most likely take 3 posts to write about).

4) my contining efforts on the Stafford Challenge

5) a lot of magazine clippings that have piled up on my dining room table, my sofa, and other radom places in my condo

6) probably a locked entry about the world's longest running brief meaningless fling

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Every Day Above Ground

May 2026

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Mallory's Camera

Reading

(no subject)

tuesday

Lunch squirrel

Octopuses and Gardens

Alices

The Courage To Be Disliked

(no subject)

Dinner is served.

my reading glasses are illiterate

Mother's day

monday later later

The Bike Valet [bicycling]

monday later

Mother's Day

monday

Picture Diary 131

This Isn't Supposed To Happen

This Isn't Supposed To Happen

Right Ordering

Still to Come

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May 2026

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