Friday, October 23, 2009
two weekends worth of health enhancement
Okay, this has been ridiculous. I’ve lost a full week. That’s seven beers, people! I have been coughing, queasing, getting clammy, being achy for just. about. long. ENOUGH. Now I’ve got a relative staying over and people are having a good old time and I’m still hacking up gorilla glue and catarrh. It’s not like I don’t appreciate pity, but isn’t there more to life than being a walking, talking cough?
Here’s a thought, dammit: how about casting myself back over a few pleasant weekends and seeing whether that distracts me? I mean, long enough for the nyquil to kick in? What a great idea, Chuckles ol’ pal. That’s the ticket right there. When do I get paid again? Is this cheese real?
Oh silly grasshopper, the nyquil is obviously already well into its nefarious ways. Relax your inhibitions, then, by gazing over these delectable photos:
These shots were from the Sonoma County’s Tolay Lake Harvest Festival. NO HALLOWEEN IMAGERY WHATSOEVER. For thar be-ith the satanism, ye ken. OOOGABOOGA! O now I skeered ya. Sissy.
The Hay-Bale Maze - both kids loved it. Good times amid the biomass.
Z has a booklet in his hands - there are spaces for ten stamps, each representing a different activity around the ranch like “Indian Village” and “Candle-making” and “Blowtorch Sculpture.” His book is at this moment wide open, and he’s trying to figure out where to go next. If you embiggen this photo you can see his eyes are literally popping from his sockets with excitement.
A seasonal favorite: reindeer. Or something. Whatever.
Jesse took a moment to hang out with his friend the enormous gourd. They look good together, I think.
Both boys, riding garden tractors. Soon they will power our factories! And you know what that means - sticky, toy-strewn factories. Blergh.
The festival features olde-timey household and construction equipment - an old washer, an old pump, that sort of thing. This is the rotating drum of a cement mixer produced by the Wonder company. Later, as I understand, it wrote the book of love. Who figured.
Zach remembered his close personal relationship with a squash from back in aught-sebben and wanted to relive the magic. As easily said as done, young master Z!
Zach, hunting down the perfect pumpkin way out by the bending-point of the event horizon. Quantum-tastic!
I should mention that the single most memorable thing for me about the day was the amazing sizzle I experienced when I got some fresh Kettle Corn, right out of the kettle, and shoveled a whole mess of it into my mouth, and a big chunk of molten sugar and salt fell into my tender maw and burned a new contour to the inside of my lip. I could feel it bubbling as it stuck to me, people. Still and all: good times!
The next weekend I woke up a little under the weather on Sunday but was not going to let that, a ticket-timing mixup, or rain, prevent me from taking Z along on a trip to Dolores Park, where this year’s Trolley Dances began. At the park, we saw three dances; then we boarded the trolley and rode three miles to Balboa Park. Along the way we saw a wonderful tango performed along the street for us, and then at the park there were two more dances and then some synchronized swimming. My camera ran out of juice before I got very far, but here’s some memorable moments from the first little segment:
Within the interstices of a palm tree’s cut-frond bark - a dance with clover and moss
A Mexican folk-dance by the statue of El Liberador de Mexico, who was apparently a 20-foot iron priest. Very impressive. Also, those guys in the back with the instruments? Super serious. The guy with the tiny guitar had a voice in the Alto range. The guy with the kefiyah scarf - he’s playing a festively-painted goat-jaw. Really well, too!
One of the powershots from the dance on the pedestrian bridge over the trolley tracks - “Men Think They Are Smarter Than Grass.” I choose to be insulted by that title, but then to rise above it. The dance was inspirational. I think I got a shot of this guy last time, too.
That’s when the batteries wore out, and coincidentally, this is when mine wear out too. The funny thing is, I’m actually working on a piece of fiction to post, but it keeps getting longer and longer. It’s going to be unreadable by the time it’s finished. Which sounds perfect to me! So… wait for it, and I’ll get more to ya when I can....
