False front; politically correct and other signs of the time; the wind blows, a special girl is fed, a grasshopper befriended

For some damn reason, we have to pay bills - too many bills, adding up to way too much. So I drove to the Carr's Mall and let Margie out to go inside to the credit union and make our car payment. I then circled the parking lot and saw the half moon hanging over these false fronts - built to remind us here in the Far North of the Old West.

After she paid the bill, Margie got back into the car and we headed off to pay the next bill. We found ourselves directly behind this car, being ordered to think. So I thought and this is what I think: within the framework and social context of the car owner's life, community and media followed, these bumper stickers are all most likely 100 percent politically correct.

Ah... to think what might have been!

If you can't read all of the bumper stickers at this size, you probably can in slide show view.

It seemed pretty ridiculous to me and I didn't want to do it, but, being a law-abiding citizen, I stopped three times, just as the sign ordered. I don't think that my doing so made anybody any safer.

As I walked from the car to the post office, I suddenly saw these characters furiously flapping, coming directly in my direction, flying only about 20 to 30 feet above the parking lot. It would have been a wonderful picture had I been ready but, by the time I could draw and shoot, they had already passed by.

Did you know that I am a duck in human disguise?

It's true. I am. One day, I will tell the story. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will leave readers to wonder and ponder, "what does he mean - he is a duck in human disguise?"

Melanie and Lisa are probably groaning right now.

After we paid the bills, checked the mail and found more bills that need to be paid, we headed home, where I flailed away to no discernable accomplishment on this computer for a bit and then at 4:00 PM I headed to Metro Cafe. There were two vehicles in line ahead of me and, as I waited, Nola came walking out, headed to her own car with a cup for herself.

She stopped to chat, just for as long as her ears could take the icy bite of this bitter wind that now seems to have set in in perpetuity.

Nola would like to open up a coffee shop of her own one day soon - in Hawaii. 

And when she does, I want to stop by and buy a cup from her.

As for this day, when I got to the window, my gift cards in hand, I discovered that, once again, a kindly, anonymous reader of this blog had bought me an Americano and cinnamon roll.

My cup runneth over.

Trees, as seen from the drive-through line at Metro Cafe, after Nola had fled the wind and got back into her car.

I took the usual drive to sip and drink and so passed by Grotto Iona.

The horses from yesterday were still there, socializing.

And this plow was coming down the road, appearing to scrape ice, yet, after it passed by, all the ice still seemed to be in place.

Maybe some of it was gone. What we need now is snow, lots of snow, to cover all this stuff up and make winter look like winter should.

Right now, it's just cold, dry and windy. Not bitter cold, like it can be, but teens and single digits. But when you get into the wind, it feels pretty cold.

As readers who have stuck with me all week can see, my life this week has been pretty mundane and routine. I sit at my computer all day long, breaking away just long enough to go get a coffee or pay some bills.

Pretty boring stuff. Yet, it never seems boring to me.

Please don't abandon me, though. I will get this blog into some excitement pretty soon.

This is the roof of our house, btw. I have just returned from my coffee break.

And this from India:

Jesse Clithi runs a little day-care center in Bangalore that also functions kind of like a pre-school here in the US. The day after Soundarya and Anil married, Melanie and I stopped by for a visit along with my niece Sujitha, Soundarya's sister, and her fiance Manoj. The students were mostly about three or four years of age - except for one, who was eight.

She had suffered some kind of malady that had left both her brain and her body underdeveloped and so she was the same size as her classmates and, when it came to play, acted much as they did.

Yet, those who know her say that this little girl is very special, that even though her body is small and her language skills limited, she sees and understands many things that might pass by most of us. I have no doubt but what this is true.

On this day, she wanted to eat only if Manu would feed her. He did.

Suji gives the special girl a kiss.

Manu pats her on the head.

When I started this little project of frequently dropping in an image or few from India at the end of a post, I stated that I was doing so in order to let it be known that Soundarya was not and would not be forgotten, but that I would not be posting pictures of Soundarya herself.

I meant my pictures of Soundarya, which I have spent considerable time sorting through, lately, along with those of Anil, but Sujitha took this picture. She emailed it and three others to me as they were the last pictures of Sandy from her camera. She was a little apologetic about the quality of the 3 megapixel camera that she used, but my contention about pictures is that the feeling captured means much more than the technical quality rendered. 

And in this one, she captured the feeling of Soundarya and her Chooo'weet little friend, the grasshopper.

Suji calls Soundaraya, "Soundu," and uses the word with great affection. Soundu would often write to me of Suji and she would call her, "Barbie," also with great affection.

Perhaps I will include some or all of the three remaining pictures from Suji's camera in a subsequent post.

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Icy roads, horse, another coffee gift; I find Margie watching a speech

A little after noon, as the cat, Chicago and I sat on the couch chill'n, Margie worked on the fire. Look at the intensity of the light coming through the back door window! We have not seen light this intense in quite awhile.

I was late getting to my walk. Not until about 3:00. As I began my way up this icy stretch of road, I saw a car coming towards me. I wonder who was in it? Where were they going? What did they wonder about me?

Immediately after my walk, I headed to Metro, fully prepared and expecting to pay for my own coffee today. But Elizabeth wouldn't let me. Someone in North Carolina had bought, not one, but two, coffee cards for me.

Boy, if this keeps up, I may never have to pay for a cup of Metro coffee again - and all thanks to anonymous blog readers.

Thank you, North Carolina reader.

Carmen was too busy visiting others to come to the window, but she did post for a through the Metro window study with this lady, whose name I forget, but I do remember that she teaches a sewing class.

Through the Metro Window Study, # 11,213: Carmen and the Sewing Class Teacher, Elisabeth busy in the foreground

As I prepared to drive out of the Metro parking lot, I saw the moon, over the trees.

On I drove, sipping my coffee, eating my cinnamon roll. When I came to this stretch of road, I thought to myself, "hmmmmm... this looks like a place where there might be horses up ahead."

What do you think, reader? Could I possibly have been correct? Could there be horses ahead?

Sure enough, there was. If you don't believe me, here's proof. How could I have known such a thing? The horses must have whispered it to me on the wind, which continues to blow.

On my way home. I had thought that I would listen to the President's speech at the Memorial Service for the shooting victims in Tucson, but it was not on the radio.

When I stepped back into the house, I found Margie watching the speech on TV. I sat down beside her. Right after I did, President Obama announced that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords had opened her eyes. The TV camera zoomed in on First Lady Michelle Obama and Gifford's husband, astronaut Mark Kelly.

And this one from India:

Yesterday, I posted a picture of a young man and a girl standing amidst the ruins of Hampi, in front of a temple with a roof supported by elegant stone columns.

Today, I will take just a little more time so that I can tell you that the structure is called Vittala Temple, was built in the 15th century in honor to Lord Vishnu, and there is something special about those stone columns - music comes from them.

If one taps on the columns, they ring at different pitches. Our timing was not right to hear them, but there are groups of musicians who sometimes gather here and perform musical works on the columns. They do not use their hands as this couple is doing, but wooden mallets that better bring out the sound.

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Moon behind the trees, icy road, free coffee and four studies of Pioneer Peak in the howling wind

As I walked, the half-moon tried to hide behind the trees. It didn't work. I spotted it, anyway.

I bet you can, too.

The wind was howling - I don't know how strong, but very strong. And the road was icy. It was kind of hard to walk, but I needed to walk, so I walked anyway and I never took a fall. I need to get some crampons to put on my shoes.

I used to have some. I don't know what happened to them.

Margie has some, but they don't fit on my shoes.

Off in the distance, a jet flew overhead. Judging from the direction that it was headed, it must have been on its way to Russia.

I suppose it might have landed before it got to Russia.

Or maybe it made a left turn, or even a right one, and then went and flew over the North Pole.

Despite the fierce wind that blew, Ubiquitous Raven came flying by. He was alone, though. I saw no other ravens on this walk. Usually, I see several.

A moose had walked by here, back when the snow was still good.

Other than my walk and coffee break, I spent the whole day right here, over 12 hours, working in my computer with Jimmy always here to help - and Pistol-Yero, too. I met the kitten seen on the screen in India. Sad story. Sad, sad, sad story.

Why did God design life to be like this?

When I arrived at Metro Cafe, Elizabeth handed me my coffee and cinnamon roll and told me that it was already paid for. As usual, she didn't know by whom. A woman, she said, whereas last time it was a man.

I know for certain that Akponygirl has bought me coffee. If this was again from you, thank you. If it was from someone else, then thank you, whoever you are.

I enjoyed it. And I enjoyed the cinnamon roll. Elisabeth cut it in half for me so that I would not eat the whole thing, but I ate the whole thing, anyway.

It's probably for the best. I was going to give the other half to Margie, but she's diabetic and it had a great deal of sugar on it.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #1: The reason the sky is this color is because the wind, which is fierce, is hurling glacier dust through the air. The reason there is no snow on the ground is because, prior to the big meltdown, the wind, unrestrained here by trees or much of anything, scoured almost all of it away and then the tiny bit that was left melted.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #2: You can get an idea how windy it was.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #3: I actually got out of the car to take this one, but I kept getting struck in the face not only by dust but by small pebbles that were traveling with the wind. I feared one might strike me in the eye, or scratch and chip my lens, so I got back into the car pretty quick.

This guy had this in the back of his truck, but it got blown out. Now he is trying to put it back into his truck.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #4: When Kalib came home from work, he reported that a number of his co-workers, all of whom use this same parking lot, lost car windows on this day, after the wind hurled pebbles into them with enough force to blow them out.

And this one from India:

Among the ruins of Hampi.

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Kalib and Jobe visit via pixel; a single study of the young writer, Shoshana; Carmen froze in Arizona; moose in the road; elephants in the road

I have not seen these two, Jobe and Kalib, for over a week now. Lavina is pretty good at sending pix to me over the phone. I always show them to Margie. She always likes them.

For those who might have read my entry three days ago about my dream of Jobe and the grizzly bears but who may not have read all the comments, here is the one left by Lavina:

"Wow, that intense, I got chills thinkn about it! But Jobe is of the Bear clan on his Apache side so maybe that's why they befriended him b/c he's one of them...I'll give hugs to Jobe for you."

As soon as I read this comment, I went into the house, grabbed Margie, dragged her out here into my office and had her read it.

She was startled, and pleased.

"Yes!" she of the Bear Clan said. "I didn't even think of that."

And neither did I.

That's Lavina - always in tune.

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana - this from two or three days ago. I had not planned to do any more studies of Shoshana for maybe another week, at least a few more days, but her earrings caught my eye.

Here I am, on my way to Metro again, as this kid shoots by in the opposite direction. It is Monday, January 10. Carmen has been gone on vacation since Christmas. She is supposed to be back to work today. Will she be?

She is! Elisabeth tells her I am at the drive through window. We are all happy to see each other.

"How was Arizona?" I ask her.

"Freezing!" she answers. "Cold. It was so cold, Bill! I couldn't get warm. I was cold all the time. You must bring Margie by. I must ask her about this."

It was cold everywhere she went, she says, including Phoenix and Scottsdale.

They did not take any warm clothing with them because, after all, they were going to Arizona from Alaska.

She folds her arms and draws them tight against her body, as if she is trying to conserve the heat that she lost down in Arizona. She looks like she is about to shiver.

"It was cold, Bill," she says. "Freezing cold."

 Back out on the road, this moose crossed in front of me. I could have been forced to hit my brakes and to slide all over the place, maybe right into the moose, but I was watching out for it before it ever showed itself.

I just knew that a moose was going to pop up right around here.

I felt certain of it.

Sometimes, you just know these things.

Sometimes you don't.

Then you are more likely to hit the moose.

It happened again this morning. I got to sleep somewhere between two and three am, woke up a few times and then could not sleep a wink past 5:15. Still, I stayed in bed with the covers over my head, two cats laying on me and another tucked in close to my side until Family Restaurant opened.

Then I went, sat down, was served breakfast and all the coffee that I could drink and I drank too much. I photographed myself in the window. I noticed this morning that the amount of gray or white in my hair seems to have increased by at least four-fold over what it was just this past fall.

Maybe it was the mirror and the way the light hits it. Maybe if I look in another mirror, I will see that I have not gained all this gray, after all.

I need to get my hair cut and my beard and mustache trimmed.

Wouldn't everybody be surprised if one day I just shaved my beard and mustache completely off. They would really be surprised. Nobody has seen my like that for over a quarter century. I bet my face would be really pale, and shiny.

If I were ever to do something like that, I would grow the beard back real quick.

If I didn't, I would have to shave everyday. To me, it just makes no sense to waste time shaving every day.

And these two from India

We drove through two national parks where wild elephants hang out, and both times it was after dark. But every now and then, an elephant would appear in the headlights of our taxi.

People passing through the parks are required to stay in their cars. They cannot get out and go roam around. One can only hike in the parks with a permit.

My nephew, Ganesh, Soundarya's brother, knows how to get these permits and has promised to one day take me hiking out there, among the elephants.

When she saw the elephants, Soundarya shrieked with joy. There is more to this story, of course. There always is.

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My dream of Jobe, the momma grizzly and cub; Six studies of Chicago and the great fire; boy with tire

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 1: After eating her breakfast in the cold garage, Chicago enters the living room in search of fire and warmth.

Although it had already been going on for awhile and Jobe and I had experienced some great adventures out in the country, the dream now comes sharply into my memory only at that moment when Jobe and I walked out of the woods and into a large, grassy, meadow.

Yes, I say "walked" because in the dream Jobe had grown beyond toddler stage and was able to walk quite nicely all by himself.

As we stepped into the meadow, my eyes were on Jobe and I smiled as he ran ahead of me, until we were separated by about 50 feet. I then turned to my left and was startled to find myself looking right into the eyes of a grizzly bear, standing on all fours, perhaps five feet away from me, staring directly into my eyes.

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 2: Chicago finds fire and warmth.

About 30 or 40 feet beyond her, I could see a cub playing.

Oh, boy! The only way the situation could have been worse would have been if I or Jobe had come between the sow and her cub. Even though we hadn't and that neither of us were in a position to logically threaten the cub, I was not certain just how much logic the momma bear would apply to the situation.

Momma grizzlies are not known to be rational in such a situation. If a momma grizzly perceives a threat, real or imagined, she is going to do all in her power to kill that threat.

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 3

This momma studied me intently, as I tried to keep my eyes on her, the cub and Jobe.

"We mean no harm to you or your cub, Mamma bear," I told her.

Just then, the cub started to bound in a playful way straight towards Jobe.

When the sow saw this she charged, her legs churning hard as she bound straight toward my grandson, fast. She quickly outpaced the cub and then bore down on Jobe. I felt so helpless. I had no gun and I could not run nearly so fast as that momma grizzly could.

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 4: It is a warm fire and that makes it a great fire.

"No, bear!" I shouted out a plea. "No, bear! No, bear!"

The bear quickly reached my little grandson and then stopped right beside him. She brought her nose right to his left cheek and she sniffed. Then she nudged him, gently, almost affectionately.

Then the cub reached them.

Next thing I knew, the three - momma bear, cub and Jobe were walking away from me. They all looked quite happy together.

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 5

I did not know quite what to do. I could not just let Jobe walk off with two bears, no matter how friendly disposed to him they were, but if I were to insert myself in the scene and try to remove Jobe from it, that momma bear just might kill me - and Jobe, too.

It was a hell of a predicament, I tell you.

That's where the dream ends.

Chicago and the great fire - Study # 6: Chicago is content.

And this one from India:

Boy with bicycle tire, as photographed through the open window of a taxi-cab as we passed through his village in southern India.

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