Wavering Flag, Vito Acconci, 1990

Three weeks after all of the votes were cast, we finally have a decision. While, most of us came to this conclusion almost three weeks ago, more than a few could not face reality. I feel your pain. Four years ago, it was my pain too. So, how about a decision that everyone can agree with? Well, almost everyone. I’m sure that there is still a Nostra-dumbass or two out there that have yet to come around and embrace these end-times of the current administration. Yesterday, both the Keystone state and the Great Lakes state certified Joe Biden’s victory. These twin death knells, combined with a rising chorus of dignitaries calling for the loser to just give it up and pack it in, were enough to tip the balance and cause you-know-who’s collapse. The GSA floodgates burst open and transition money began to flow. Can you say ascertainment? Like in the process of finding something out for certain. It had certainly taken long enough.

Wavering Flag, Vito Acconci, 1990

Goodness, gracious, great balls of yarn! Anne is knitting up a storm, in the form of a cap for me and a sweater for someone else. She likes to get all comfy on the couch, with one of her projects in her lap, all warm and toasty. My cap is the easier of the two and she likes to work on it while there is a distraction going on, like the Zoom meeting last Sunday. The sweater is more complicated and requires more of her attention. The sweater is a Christmas gift that has to be shipped, so she would like to give priority to that item. I of course have a different opinion. Me, me, me…  So my mission is to distract her, which I am very good at, but just enough that she can’t concentrate on the sweater and has to work on my cap. You see, goodness has nothing to do with it. I am not being very gracious, because it is all about those great big balls of yarn.

Wavering Flag, Vito Acconci, 1990

A Walk in the Park

We walked Forest Park, which is seldom shy of new and unusual sights to see. I tried to fly my drone over the Grand Basin, but the breeze had freshened by then and I decided that discretion was the better part of valor. I quickly reeled it in again, before some unfortunate and likely soggy incident occurred. We heard bagpipes, from up on Art Hill. A woman was playing. She had a good repertoire. We got as far as the zoo’s 1904 birdcage, a bit of the zoo that we can view safely from outside of it. Looking down from the hill that houses the World’s Fair Pavilion, we spied a pair of red garbage trucks. They looked so new and clean that filling them with trash seemed almost like a crime. Heading down to them someone else’s drone overflew us. By the time that we got down to photograph the trucks this drone pilot was being accosted by a park ranger. Apparently, one needs a license to fly a drone in Forest Park. Who knew? We headed back to the car then, which we had parked along De Mun. We stopped first at Barrio and ordered takeout, burgers, fries and shakes. It was a glorious repast. It was also a lot of food that resulted in dueling naps on our two couches.

Red Irish Lord Eye

Red Irish Lord Eye, Jon Gross, 2005

I ordered a grocery delivery last night and I picked the earliest time slot for this morning, seven to eight. Usually, this means more like after nine, but not this time. I got the first text from my shopper just after six. He went right to work, had no problems finding stuff and then soon texted me again that he had already checked out and would be delivering soon. I decided that putting on pants would be a good idea. I alerted Anne to this development, but she just rolled over.

He rang the bell at a quarter to seven. I greeted him at the door and told him that he was early, but then added that was a good thing. He was a big guy, full of exuberance and he replied that he had already bicycled fifteen miles today. I gave a quick double-look and saw his car and not his bike idling at the curb. Plus, he said he had gotten up at 2:30 to do so. I was impressed. When I use to do my nocturnal two-wheeled rambles, I slept in to five and even at this time of the year got the first few flickers of morning light before I was done. His must be a dark and lonely ride, in the quiet stillness of the middle of the night.

I’d read somewhere that back before electrification, when people would go to bed at sundown that they would often sleep twice in the same night. For a few hours in the middle of the night, people would awake to pray, chat with co-sleepers, smoke, read sometimes or “be romantic.” Afterwards, they would fall into a second deep sleep and rest until dawn. In the Canterbury Tales, Chaucer wrote of a first and second sleep. People still only slept eight hours, but it was done in two halves. Anyway, his early morning revelry became infectious. Combined with unusually warm weather, it succeeded in getting us out today.

Today’s unrelated photo is an eye of a fish, as opposed to a fish-eye photo. It is a photo of a photo, making it sort of meta, but anyway. It was on display at the Seattle Aquarium. It is a striking closeup, but what really makes it for me is its title, Red-Irish-Lord-Eye. Four words that are not normally seen together, yet seem to promise an interesting story. The true story is a little more prosaic. The Red Irish Lord is a species of fish, native to the north Pacific and this closeup is of one of its eye. The most notable aspect of this fish is its ability to camouflage itself by changing its skin color to match its surroundings. It doesn’t change it to just one color, because that wouldn’t work. It adopts the mottled pattern of whatever part of the seafloor that it is hiding on. Seen by itself it takes on wild and colorful patterns, but against its selected background it blends into it well.