tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24528608911618096962024-03-13T15:32:03.312-07:00Otter DownIn which we wander, wonder, and swim in cold waterKatie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.comBlogger164125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-92130689036385418182013-04-03T11:59:00.003-07:002013-04-03T11:59:44.256-07:00Movin' On UpHello friends,<br />
<br />
As great as Blogger has been, I'm finally putting on my big girl pants and moving on up to my own fancy schmancy <b>new website: <a href="http://www.kathleenyale.com/">www.kathleenyale.com</a></b><br />
<br />
Same Otter Down name, same random content, but now with new and improved bells with which to dazzle you while pimping myself out to nebulous Cyberland void of opportunity.<br />
<br />
I hope you'll make the trip and subscribe.<br />
<br />
Yours in otters,<br />
<br />
KatieKatie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-73247339010256462772013-04-01T07:49:00.000-07:002013-04-01T07:49:03.882-07:00A Color of the Sky<div class="tab-content active" id="poem" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px;">
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A Color of Sky </div>
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Windy today and I feel less than brilliant,<br />
driving over the hills from work.<br />
There are the dark parts on the road<br />
when you pass through clumps of wood<br />
and the bright spots where you have a view of the ocean,<br />
but that doesn't make the road an allegory.<br />
<br />
I should call Marie and apologize<br />
for being so boring at dinner last night,<br />
but can I really promise not to be that way again?<br />
And anyway, I'd rather watch the trees, tossing<br />
in what certainly looks like sexual arousal.<br />
<br />
Otherwise it's spring, and everything looks frail;<br />
the sky is baby blue, and the just-unfurling leaves<br />
are full of infant chlorophyll,<br />
the very tint of inexperience.<br />
<br />
Last summer's song is making a comeback on the radio,<br />
and on the highway overpass,<br />
the only metaphysical vandal in America has written<br />
MEMORY LOVES TIME<br />
in big black spraypaint letters,<br />
<br />
which makes us wonder if Time loves Memory back.<br />
<br />
Last night I dreamed of X again.<br />
She's like a stain on my subconscious sheets.<br />
Years ago she penetrated me<br />
but though I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed,<br />
I never got her out,<br />
but now I'm glad.<br />
<br />
What I thought was an end turned out to be a middle.<br />
What I thought was a brick wall turned out to be a tunnel.<br />
What I thought was an injustice<br />
turned out to be a color of the sky.<br />
<br />
Outside the youth center, between the liquor store<br />
and the police station,<br />
a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;<br />
<br />
overflowing with blossomfoam,<br />
like a sudsy mug of beer;<br />
like a bride ripping off her clothes,<br />
<br />
dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds,<br />
<br />
so Nature's wastefulness seems quietly obscene.<br />
It's been doing that all week:<br />
making beauty,<br />
and throwing it away,<br />
and making more.<br />
<br />
<i>--by Tony Hoagland</i></div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-21179596146520013732013-03-13T09:15:00.001-07:002013-03-13T09:15:24.686-07:00The North RemembersI'm not going to talk about spring. It is simply way too early for such talk in the mountains. Our environmental palette remains subtle: white, greys, blues, white, greens so dark they appear black... white. Our feet adjust to snow, ice, slush, snow, ice, slush. Our crocuses continue their dormancy. We don't hold our breath.<br />
<br />
Last month some friends and I spent a long holiday weekend volunteering for the park's fisher DNA study (read about similar work <a href="http://kjyale.blogspot.com/2012/02/ill-take-pennanti-and-panini.html" style="font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">here</a>) assembling and re-bating old hair-collecting stations in Many Glacier, in hopes of detecting an animal who is hard to detect. This involved skiing into a backcountry cabin, getting pounded by wind and snow, and reveling in the rare pleasure of having the busiest part of the park all to ourselves. The trip reminded me of everything I love about winter--the smell of the cold caught in your hair, hands wrapped around a hot mug, fire crackling, fresh tracks on the snow, the way the landscape feels monochrome--and my mind returns to it on this misty, drizzly day.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaazaHBialrBG-Fb4j5dOgR1aHboGcdjTsEz_gmjrJpvybyK9tilq6RLELKw2UQKmP_OuHgP34Fybcmb8fUzKkVjGeKRbBP3M8uwUK7Xi_i5cVC9ecfxvVe90LtOEVnghnwQPu6Hz_yWUa/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaazaHBialrBG-Fb4j5dOgR1aHboGcdjTsEz_gmjrJpvybyK9tilq6RLELKw2UQKmP_OuHgP34Fybcmb8fUzKkVjGeKRbBP3M8uwUK7Xi_i5cVC9ecfxvVe90LtOEVnghnwQPu6Hz_yWUa/s400/036.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Objects are as fuzzy as they appear</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMPBaK2wAqvfOKQhB-yfltm1ocd2MgVPQ5mWoFQN-uUdGUUfbCa0DrLnCfT45994XM16uSlZcwKCSDuYWyAcxyD_JTU2onYTJ2yLAl3UDqyY49kdptnkXbtJUhyphenhyphenlKOD-S5iG6_z0656rM/s1600/033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMPBaK2wAqvfOKQhB-yfltm1ocd2MgVPQ5mWoFQN-uUdGUUfbCa0DrLnCfT45994XM16uSlZcwKCSDuYWyAcxyD_JTU2onYTJ2yLAl3UDqyY49kdptnkXbtJUhyphenhyphenlKOD-S5iG6_z0656rM/s400/033.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four feet</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AFZccdnP2LanPy9GU5t-I5olsFc58hyB7jJYTkcYEmDyEl2Vk7mrVhVsYJeaYInYaY_dZixWZV5mE7gjM4bb8bLvy4Z0KWYLtvY9mTBOw_LcUU53wnDtNfG95JfQ_X0Fhqh9S4SGMsk7/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AFZccdnP2LanPy9GU5t-I5olsFc58hyB7jJYTkcYEmDyEl2Vk7mrVhVsYJeaYInYaY_dZixWZV5mE7gjM4bb8bLvy4Z0KWYLtvY9mTBOw_LcUU53wnDtNfG95JfQ_X0Fhqh9S4SGMsk7/s400/012.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freshening the meat packet</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harvesting hair</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwiVoKCB2X9rweM8Y5sKP9gvRmWhlHOJ1gj9pu_wghnsCWR3CWa6zeCdPbN-tAigspjnwosUC_qxM73FJO7386j0oXKCcbbQOj4ddJO277NEVjqvmuUJBC-bVQ70RarLdAjDS5s-vVvoC/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwiVoKCB2X9rweM8Y5sKP9gvRmWhlHOJ1gj9pu_wghnsCWR3CWa6zeCdPbN-tAigspjnwosUC_qxM73FJO7386j0oXKCcbbQOj4ddJO277NEVjqvmuUJBC-bVQ70RarLdAjDS5s-vVvoC/s400/025.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adding the love scent</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1-pMV8cw1w_jci4mtz8mRazBlC_szrEGUMJQ9msaKo2NWxdbg2wwC07gBpyUbsm7_3hgvgRA5q1Y4F1q02LTn0GnfFCnTwslOBJuW5Hr8BLioXZgv-ex7fdqMjqX-pAdaSI5pSrpI0Gb/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW1-pMV8cw1w_jci4mtz8mRazBlC_szrEGUMJQ9msaKo2NWxdbg2wwC07gBpyUbsm7_3hgvgRA5q1Y4F1q02LTn0GnfFCnTwslOBJuW5Hr8BLioXZgv-ex7fdqMjqX-pAdaSI5pSrpI0Gb/s400/053.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sidewinder</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1nCHvSBMSsrAUEY2q4xjpXoUcQbB3-8YZzZwRIW_w6s5NMv_RoiBQ3MGwdkMPo6CAqVnh4i_dGAlOvZmywegCwHlF9wIeBQdkRoAJDbtlpfXv-YLR_hww9PSgp_NmZG5R-UMLKNcSTpGZ/s1600/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1nCHvSBMSsrAUEY2q4xjpXoUcQbB3-8YZzZwRIW_w6s5NMv_RoiBQ3MGwdkMPo6CAqVnh4i_dGAlOvZmywegCwHlF9wIeBQdkRoAJDbtlpfXv-YLR_hww9PSgp_NmZG5R-UMLKNcSTpGZ/s640/057.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And not a shanty in sight</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35wyX2zBQwoumRXK75ZBi2xqnAmbaE8T3hvgyXlhfUZ81IPZ6d8SeieGc2SmBWzGv2W3KbF0S2BTjftI5N5Z3c1KZPBVXwR_g9c4Z1ssomlq-5OG0JCN-AkU9N-JH47Qi-bnk4aOFG_cS/s1600/059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35wyX2zBQwoumRXK75ZBi2xqnAmbaE8T3hvgyXlhfUZ81IPZ6d8SeieGc2SmBWzGv2W3KbF0S2BTjftI5N5Z3c1KZPBVXwR_g9c4Z1ssomlq-5OG0JCN-AkU9N-JH47Qi-bnk4aOFG_cS/s400/059.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drip daggers</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See you in spring...</td></tr>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-57270563140363752282013-03-02T11:30:00.000-08:002013-03-02T11:30:13.251-08:00Where the Science GoesI am very happy to report that I shall be a regular writer for the excellent and nerdy mini-lecture video series <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/scishow?feature=watch"><b>The SciShow</b></a>. If you like learning about bizarre phenomena, famous brainiacs, current science news, and super awesome stuff, check out the YouTube channel. Recent topics have included: What happens when a body is subjected to the vacuum of space, how birds get drunk in spring, the history of blood transfusions, meteorite hits and near misses, giant squids, spider rain, genetically modified foods, and what happens if identical twins procreate with identical twins.<br />
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Oh, and my very first scripted episode on <b>Extreme! Animal! Cannibalism! </b>(Don't worry, there is a little bit of brother-eating, but no bath salts are involved.) I'm super excited about this gig and to be part of such a curious and creative team. Upcoming assignments range from Explaining Gluten, to updates on Human Enhancement Technology, to Why Do Cats Purr? Hope you'll check in on occasion and get your learn on...<br />
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-54060107744890558712013-02-19T14:34:00.000-08:002013-02-19T14:34:40.969-08:00Sting CityEver wonder what it would feel like to hold a five-foot animate chicken cutlet? Curious about what an animal with a kisser like vacuum might look like? Want a little magic in your life? Fear no danger? Like getting mobbed by moving pancakes underwater? Appreciate flatness? Then I highly recommend you find a boat and make a sojourn to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stingray_City,_Grand_Cayman">Stingray City</a>, where the sea puppies live, and all your weirdo dreams can come true. I know mine did.<br />
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Southern stingrays (<i>Dasyatis americana</i>) can be found elegantly gliding around the ocean floor in tropical and subtropical waters from Jersey to Brazil. Their pectorals fins stretch out like stealth wings, trailing long, barbed tails behind. Diamond-shaped, their dorsal side is olive-hued and rough like a fleshy sandpaper, while their underbellies are a smooth, soft white. Their namesake stinger barb is tucked in about half way down their slim tails, and while its venom is not fatal to humans, a poke would sting like all hell. (Incidentally, Steven Irwin's fatal heart-sting freak accident was not at the fins of a southern ray.) </div>
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This genial lot of wild rays hangs out at a large, naturally-occurring sandbar within a huge salt-water lagoon on the island's northwestern end, walled in by the barrier reef that rings the whole island. Apparently these usually solitary creatures cued in to a free meal years ago when they realized fisherfolk came to these shallow waters to clean their fish and toss the delicious guts overboard. And before you knew it hungry rays were coming out to the sound of boat engines like a flock of pancakes looking of syrup. Shortly there after, industrious humans realized they could make a buck by bringing animal-crazed tourists out to feed (mmm, calamari), pet, and generally love up on the now quite tame rays, and in the process make my decade.</div>
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Some of the rays have been coming around for years, like Rebecca, the biggest, oldest female, and Stumpy, who lost her tail, and Scarface of the distinct features... And when these gentle creatures whimple by, grazing your knee-backs and ruffling over your shoulders to hoover at the fish in your hand, you will not be able to cease laughing like a happy maniac, and you will fervently wish you were a mermaid just so you could keep one as a friend.</div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-33854870264380602272013-02-13T08:43:00.002-08:002013-02-13T08:43:43.989-08:00Terrapin Station<div style="text-align: left;">
Well, technically you wouldn't call a sea turtle a terrapin, but tell that to Jerry. One of the best things we did on Grand Cayman was visit <a href="http://www.turtle.ky/">The Cayman Turtle Farm</a>, a premiere breeding center for endangered green sea turtles. <i>Chelonia mydas</i> are dubbed green not for their outer color, but rather because the fat layer beneath their shell is green. For my part, let the record state I am uncertain if that means sort of a dull mossy green, or a bright, ectoplasm-type hue. Their range circles the globe in tropical and sub-tropical waters.</div>
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The breeding center is home to a number large, 500+ pound adult turtles who share a large saltwater lagoon equipped with a lounge studded with lava lamps, beaded curtains, soft lighting, and Barry White background music. No, that is a lie... but they are packed into a lagoon to facilitate orgies, I mean mating, but the lounge area is mostly just a sandy beach perfect for egg-laying. Mamas can lay 100-200 eggs in a go, and in the wild some may migrate as far as 1,6000 miles to reach their breeding grounds.</div>
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After incubating for a couple of months, tiny, adorable, bite-sized little baby turtles hatch in their sand pits and crawl their way to the sea. They are, as you may expect, extremely vulnerable to predators during the first several months of their lives, and get no help from mama, because she hit the road as soon as she buried her clutch. It is sad, but no surprise then, that only about one percent of the little turtlets make it to adulthood. This fact, combined with shoreline development (habitat loss), fishing net interference, predation (human and non-human), and the ill-effects of chemical pollution has served in securing the green sea turtle a spot on the Endangered Species list. In 2007 the green was also granted international protection under <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Convention_on_International_Trade_in_Endangered_Species">CITES</a>.</div>
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Since its inception in 1968, the Cayman Turtle Farm has bred and released over 31,000 yearling turtles into the wild, and is the first facility to successfully release second generation greens (those bred, laid, hatched, and reared in captivity). Last year the center released the first of its <a href="http://www.seaturtle.org/tracking/index.shtml?tag_id=112227&full=1">satellite-tagged</a> turtles, and now monitors individual movements via space technology and wizardry.</div>
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It is an incredible feeling to take a yearling in hand. Their shell pattern is delicate and unbelievable bright and crisp, a sunburst or seed husk painted on with a thin brush. Their front flippers are surprisingly strong, and tug at fingers hooked in armpits. You can soothe them with a gentle stroke of the chin. Mostly they casually drift around through the water, but are capable of zooming off at 30mph when they want a change of scenery. </div>
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They are impossible not to root for.</div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-64401341254512414262013-02-11T18:08:00.001-08:002013-02-19T09:32:38.358-08:00He Hath Founded It Upon The SeasYesterday I returned from a lovely week of sand, sea, family, and rum on Grand Cayman. Returned to the snow, naturally, with the ocean still in salting my hair. This here is the first installment of usual suspects encountered. All were quite congenial. Except for the cockroaches, who shall remain nameless.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wee crablet</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Demonstrating the power of suction, and creepin'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Went a courtin'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dove Rae Me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyuvF7NKEGUNl-J78Y8d47Ei8ofUPTNcftj2yRu8joqvzFV_RXRo099a7rysQd0n1QA5iTG_w_3U-hny7wDYorGIvhQUioYGCtuy_Axgu7zJd3v70lu97BdZQ9A7dxhupNM_j_IX4qsa-/s1600/101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxyuvF7NKEGUNl-J78Y8d47Ei8ofUPTNcftj2yRu8joqvzFV_RXRo099a7rysQd0n1QA5iTG_w_3U-hny7wDYorGIvhQUioYGCtuy_Axgu7zJd3v70lu97BdZQ9A7dxhupNM_j_IX4qsa-/s400/101.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice beret, Luc</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZYHLZ5mXjilvZ2LmzyQVBefmZRYJ8UzrUKDrq4UKFHRHxyTfFsAUN8kp2pU6hhg96h_J3U7ihEJvtXTuCIQXSq_Au9zfsYq655AkvXRV2dkHfEp2PeSNRkg1RIp32-TsOoZuuyfV8iCA/s1600/118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnZYHLZ5mXjilvZ2LmzyQVBefmZRYJ8UzrUKDrq4UKFHRHxyTfFsAUN8kp2pU6hhg96h_J3U7ihEJvtXTuCIQXSq_Au9zfsYq655AkvXRV2dkHfEp2PeSNRkg1RIp32-TsOoZuuyfV8iCA/s640/118.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still life with Chuckles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrIlrioJC0gqUp-oVeuVrUYfFF7l8G9-Hg4ytr80I8xSMLXjtNuMqtf76EoAfBV_PO_1WoimwdSHzd4EVElKRhz2oNwQijLTW1JZ_s6LQi4ZTHC7Orq-ZNSHSn3GLA10COz1OngLIPOLo/s1600/103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinrIlrioJC0gqUp-oVeuVrUYfFF7l8G9-Hg4ytr80I8xSMLXjtNuMqtf76EoAfBV_PO_1WoimwdSHzd4EVElKRhz2oNwQijLTW1JZ_s6LQi4ZTHC7Orq-ZNSHSn3GLA10COz1OngLIPOLo/s640/103.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The long shanks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6SZ3FsNG0XggOkjGmaSCbbQMduSl5gctWCsB0Ayadyah3gdKtObm9a0qwsbLgk_VaevHXRPokgC23J31X9XUFSOj99WCT-I82ZeeRRQoSwFGz4FkI2ysZFsv5A_48PEJ8Wc8AddNUKdW/s1600/105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6SZ3FsNG0XggOkjGmaSCbbQMduSl5gctWCsB0Ayadyah3gdKtObm9a0qwsbLgk_VaevHXRPokgC23J31X9XUFSOj99WCT-I82ZeeRRQoSwFGz4FkI2ysZFsv5A_48PEJ8Wc8AddNUKdW/s640/105.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now she's blushing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSn9HOGuTiTUkurAReE4Znb7geBvdC3jOdFSJ0VOKM-TClB2bzHph2xbZP9lJcuco-XE5aAy0uBKxpj-mVZADNgNpBkEL-_uiF9v-MHc09uqWjHjT671IUMO_NSSlVsfkSC0PxmaCSZMc0/s1600/152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSn9HOGuTiTUkurAReE4Znb7geBvdC3jOdFSJ0VOKM-TClB2bzHph2xbZP9lJcuco-XE5aAy0uBKxpj-mVZADNgNpBkEL-_uiF9v-MHc09uqWjHjT671IUMO_NSSlVsfkSC0PxmaCSZMc0/s640/152.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just another goth kid</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoZK82ar3JcMEpWa62nPrqa-D5HTHhj_3n7dz89NRBL7_CxN1yE-2L4FwpB9hgP-2uDX5BsxeySEKt3frbwiJ2FbX_rIm4X5_XxTjcxgAMTOelqiUT78nnEDkUmeeJmqkMzcWduDL7kvW/s1600/131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoZK82ar3JcMEpWa62nPrqa-D5HTHhj_3n7dz89NRBL7_CxN1yE-2L4FwpB9hgP-2uDX5BsxeySEKt3frbwiJ2FbX_rIm4X5_XxTjcxgAMTOelqiUT78nnEDkUmeeJmqkMzcWduDL7kvW/s640/131.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forget something, blue-throated anole?</td></tr>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-5238063553888455402013-01-21T12:41:00.000-08:002013-01-21T12:41:39.820-08:00Mephitis Mephitis<div style="text-align: center;">
Yesterday we were heading into the Park for a ski, when lo! my day was made by a special wildlife sighting. Naturally I have seen a savage number of poor roadkill skunks over the years, and even the sad and smelly remains of some in Yellowstone wolf scat, but surprisingly, I've only ever seen one live individual in the wild. Until yesterday... when we saw this little duffer loping over snowdrifts between lake shore and road.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBriiql3YcpKZlI_dSBVoUWS5x9bwJl5HwvPiNjoaEz6vC4deMxNxd2NrqusV4fems7m9K83pt_i-tE0hxO8U778jkrV1NIbEb88ZEFp-XQHst_-lQRyuaGmGP-SNxy3XtFeLW6uic7ZE/s1600/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBriiql3YcpKZlI_dSBVoUWS5x9bwJl5HwvPiNjoaEz6vC4deMxNxd2NrqusV4fems7m9K83pt_i-tE0hxO8U778jkrV1NIbEb88ZEFp-XQHst_-lQRyuaGmGP-SNxy3XtFeLW6uic7ZE/s400/038.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Pew</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">My first thought, well, it wasn't so much a cohesive thought so much as a bombastic emotional reaction/squeal of pure glee, was </span><i style="text-align: left;">look! A skunk! A skunk! So fuzzy! Look! Look! That bushy tail! Skunk! </i><span style="text-align: left;">My second thought was more akin to, Must. Get. Out. Of. Truck. Must. Get. Close. To. That. Fuzzy. And soon enough I was out of the vehicle, jogging along next to the skunk for a few hundred meters, grinning in breathless delight. Some of you may question my judgement, but let me remind you that while they see and hear quite nicely, skunks have pretty terrible eyesight, and the little guy could barely see me. (This poor vision is partially to blame for all those fatal automobile encounters.)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixL5Wpabc-dXa3kV1aAthsEttdj3FOPVbf6OqkCnx3QeiyipoBQbw4BGNX8LdYfGdkgd5Oex_Pbagw9NnaUXVJ4kqMUL53676FenMv2rYw_u8APVFY99l9XgSGUhGvCiObzrK6jM3aDLmW/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixL5Wpabc-dXa3kV1aAthsEttdj3FOPVbf6OqkCnx3QeiyipoBQbw4BGNX8LdYfGdkgd5Oex_Pbagw9NnaUXVJ4kqMUL53676FenMv2rYw_u8APVFY99l9XgSGUhGvCiObzrK6jM3aDLmW/s400/032.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just look at those little pink slippers!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My third thought was that Walt Disney is a liar. Remember in <i>Bambi</i>, when Flower gets all sleepy and goes into hibernation for the winter? Yeah, well, that just wasn't jiving with Mr. Bushypants here. Striped skunks don't actually hibernate. They go into a state of torpor--a generally inactive, denned up period of rest, though they may come above ground a couple of times to poke around and empty their scent glands. Also, Walt, deer don't get twitterpated in spring, okay. They mate in the fall. Do your homework.</div>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-47982634149388705782013-01-04T12:45:00.000-08:002013-01-04T12:46:26.277-08:00Make No Little Plans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Oh, <a href="http://www.sheddaquarium.org/">Shedd Aquarium</a>, how I've missed wandering among your wonders...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1IDCuWLcRWNil6aBN6WJpXZ4dmANpFgtV7HrfbAps8a5TeutQWb38hmiwqFdCnKY9h4d1_Tf6wRqF0VBTXnaukb2HW4LJFEW-V8hfMKa95VcEl2xYvkQuyopbwoUmBVXHEk7PY-ifctq/s1600/153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK1IDCuWLcRWNil6aBN6WJpXZ4dmANpFgtV7HrfbAps8a5TeutQWb38hmiwqFdCnKY9h4d1_Tf6wRqF0VBTXnaukb2HW4LJFEW-V8hfMKa95VcEl2xYvkQuyopbwoUmBVXHEk7PY-ifctq/s400/153.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little white whale on the go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSnut0Eb_nGznKpbKfp-Sw0bcfEqZqZgpRBmWxAupvCaYPRiIc0MHlWxpWad6hG4aV2H1mA6ciGGqQ38ZoygEcnYQ_8pAyZyKo7WJzpKTMZpwJiFaHQnGxHFDgo2WUigha3Qqww0U9ZGF9/s1600/309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSnut0Eb_nGznKpbKfp-Sw0bcfEqZqZgpRBmWxAupvCaYPRiIc0MHlWxpWad6hG4aV2H1mA6ciGGqQ38ZoygEcnYQ_8pAyZyKo7WJzpKTMZpwJiFaHQnGxHFDgo2WUigha3Qqww0U9ZGF9/s400/309.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hardly scaling back.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRCT3SATPd5JB3LjA36UK2cAlB4S5z-kL7IkLU9wloAKym_F3JGVoRxmk0ohqx5745pTk7gEtdmmyfes3PNdrNWlTfYAJB0MR4ESrf_KnKVQwF6j6gWY1_xr18LJXmrleXqDVdQmu6CeQ8/s1600/321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRCT3SATPd5JB3LjA36UK2cAlB4S5z-kL7IkLU9wloAKym_F3JGVoRxmk0ohqx5745pTk7gEtdmmyfes3PNdrNWlTfYAJB0MR4ESrf_KnKVQwF6j6gWY1_xr18LJXmrleXqDVdQmu6CeQ8/s400/321.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not your typical sea monkey.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXMdjLhIOVNcDHBxA2ZyGra1kXatwHmBhbjGgyIoV8WtGIU8cewxuBYkWp8VYHZh0vze5fOXHQgoBd6-yewcm4XwXsjZRfapaR7aB8gqGMz2Djcuu1Bd68bp8DoAkzG5lps4odI6E8EF9/s1600/064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXMdjLhIOVNcDHBxA2ZyGra1kXatwHmBhbjGgyIoV8WtGIU8cewxuBYkWp8VYHZh0vze5fOXHQgoBd6-yewcm4XwXsjZRfapaR7aB8gqGMz2Djcuu1Bd68bp8DoAkzG5lps4odI6E8EF9/s400/064.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sauron's got nothing on this one.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnRmxZ0h4GiDtREt9cTWOyW6vs_0_QxvCnRRe1m-3mWvf93wJjhovM3we45uDFyS7tr6qTyDjPYfekTrdhPPT-Fq-U_9Svx_id27QnUS0C9gUPjeWc8NUgTsQH0TVih6nDt5IbjEiR56q/s1600/365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnRmxZ0h4GiDtREt9cTWOyW6vs_0_QxvCnRRe1m-3mWvf93wJjhovM3we45uDFyS7tr6qTyDjPYfekTrdhPPT-Fq-U_9Svx_id27QnUS0C9gUPjeWc8NUgTsQH0TVih6nDt5IbjEiR56q/s640/365.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peep show.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACuMquhyphenhyphenlLMgOX3FI2ZPt_PTn8nKEhI3iEqvmnz98hy0LqiHlbvpXRG5cDyclvafoLeOmhEXz3yg-RuQgr1s02-4n7Tf9fLyDvOONauhD2NrIC_xGNFi6yKFdCDIYYGS1POLDhKr2Q6lE/s1600/074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgACuMquhyphenhyphenlLMgOX3FI2ZPt_PTn8nKEhI3iEqvmnz98hy0LqiHlbvpXRG5cDyclvafoLeOmhEXz3yg-RuQgr1s02-4n7Tf9fLyDvOONauhD2NrIC_xGNFi6yKFdCDIYYGS1POLDhKr2Q6lE/s640/074.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flotsam or Jetsam?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCBIh7Qr6Ujdw-6hQhhPqYjSHNiFCqfIRcZ1ELm_dShOonGphJBuxKfSHwv9TJNBBh2biyziFo8gii_f5nySSubA22VwqOE3zyzyJl0Kthqh_Sd32V7LceGudYcMsikB_Nwwc-3KyKNYA/s1600/070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCBIh7Qr6Ujdw-6hQhhPqYjSHNiFCqfIRcZ1ELm_dShOonGphJBuxKfSHwv9TJNBBh2biyziFo8gii_f5nySSubA22VwqOE3zyzyJl0Kthqh_Sd32V7LceGudYcMsikB_Nwwc-3KyKNYA/s640/070.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dude knows how to lurk. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4xUWvTk5jyc8srrIFMiQMECvp9pAR31GQpmWlM8KuLiwj6XqHpNvLT27IwKO2w3m6-c-MrOWFZJN8fbqnLH-KivWxOAr_2qf43-UVC8LdoKeEycij6OWAeGTznVpSWwCsSVHuNxB2Qy2/s1600/124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4xUWvTk5jyc8srrIFMiQMECvp9pAR31GQpmWlM8KuLiwj6XqHpNvLT27IwKO2w3m6-c-MrOWFZJN8fbqnLH-KivWxOAr_2qf43-UVC8LdoKeEycij6OWAeGTznVpSWwCsSVHuNxB2Qy2/s640/124.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out the big brain on Brad!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfk5PdzUHYeFbhmKxgseCojTTLE_E51mRFATmKB8kkZWv9wa6kiVUYWclP7_co9CpCVVYDPM1Kmq4dBdezkuWmEMO7Rcho2ClqEqMP89q0hStfDXlpFoDy1CDKbvgAk2e3qSbsQNjfBVP/s1600/345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfk5PdzUHYeFbhmKxgseCojTTLE_E51mRFATmKB8kkZWv9wa6kiVUYWclP7_co9CpCVVYDPM1Kmq4dBdezkuWmEMO7Rcho2ClqEqMP89q0hStfDXlpFoDy1CDKbvgAk2e3qSbsQNjfBVP/s640/345.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caimans can creepers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NdaQ6sJx5yWL-3b0y4K-aJhb7W3aBRRJ4Zn_c9LoZaUALYxrFMZ081KMVWaaWSNzyYlHKiUB0HES9RScz7nrlOe4z85a9TqCMnYHTsEXp2phlp0kbYCJSar6QpHoSgGx4-XMLX75UAF2/s1600/173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1NdaQ6sJx5yWL-3b0y4K-aJhb7W3aBRRJ4Zn_c9LoZaUALYxrFMZ081KMVWaaWSNzyYlHKiUB0HES9RScz7nrlOe4z85a9TqCMnYHTsEXp2phlp0kbYCJSar6QpHoSgGx4-XMLX75UAF2/s640/173.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Animated doilies?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7spYeB3p80tq8q-Sx0STwBhzpjV4CvaHvmYKM8FN8j_WDmDKrc3fTCmAIfwOyvALqfnPWKcyh3yakdJgspU3JVryBmeEpRpNvzIQvVMKdFu8PDtk95kVcLtTocg8FWeiep9GnXKK9Gd0z/s1600/176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7spYeB3p80tq8q-Sx0STwBhzpjV4CvaHvmYKM8FN8j_WDmDKrc3fTCmAIfwOyvALqfnPWKcyh3yakdJgspU3JVryBmeEpRpNvzIQvVMKdFu8PDtk95kVcLtTocg8FWeiep9GnXKK9Gd0z/s640/176.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruffle your bustle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp3-uC5SNAmU0RLDyhq8gC3u3vRmCuIaAF6FpO6qj-UYjAwFBRnSBERn0Tn0fMbeFDCvD7qcNtvFskiubXvGUjpnymifFjNCqgnbJPNbZjzkIc6GJfsuy-fzgIa0iouAzHb4bq4MH3fdH/s1600/198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp3-uC5SNAmU0RLDyhq8gC3u3vRmCuIaAF6FpO6qj-UYjAwFBRnSBERn0Tn0fMbeFDCvD7qcNtvFskiubXvGUjpnymifFjNCqgnbJPNbZjzkIc6GJfsuy-fzgIa0iouAzHb4bq4MH3fdH/s640/198.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Medusa. Sea nettle. Jelly bonnet. Bloom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwj4F-xv-uDaEM7i3ND7KvP9udc1QVGwEneP3M0-ITKyqMVeFgopHget-sim8h1p0_fO6GBv-GEPrjznp1x3FgSpEBa3o0u8Go-_Lwi2B0FpuaM00gbHvA3i3GBovgi0RV-X3y646PysW7/s1600/182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwj4F-xv-uDaEM7i3ND7KvP9udc1QVGwEneP3M0-ITKyqMVeFgopHget-sim8h1p0_fO6GBv-GEPrjznp1x3FgSpEBa3o0u8Go-_Lwi2B0FpuaM00gbHvA3i3GBovgi0RV-X3y646PysW7/s640/182.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flapper fringe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wJGtjKV76xcSr_tZvW9oIxL7rmL5x8y_OcpoGpPoummwaD0v9SunMdYzjHrgcyauYstijflgLr2Ulhplml7nhx0qso0L_qeXmObEZ4wQ1Sfh5nYbS59FmEL3ryeeLSDRv3unjvRvqUu5/s1600/188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wJGtjKV76xcSr_tZvW9oIxL7rmL5x8y_OcpoGpPoummwaD0v9SunMdYzjHrgcyauYstijflgLr2Ulhplml7nhx0qso0L_qeXmObEZ4wQ1Sfh5nYbS59FmEL3ryeeLSDRv3unjvRvqUu5/s640/188.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dance of the Sugar Plum Faerie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ew0KlVw7u4FKpEjpIhZEt5W0DYA70wz6lzjyBLVmkAgCDZ-CKVVt-uOvcejwy9-9dtV5JTq4_GBQGHpvCAhhj3h4vlbS8vCfOZ7r-ZBIyrdOKfMX0b7zrJfC-4ICc7QilQocCu-wi-xp/s1600/247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ew0KlVw7u4FKpEjpIhZEt5W0DYA70wz6lzjyBLVmkAgCDZ-CKVVt-uOvcejwy9-9dtV5JTq4_GBQGHpvCAhhj3h4vlbS8vCfOZ7r-ZBIyrdOKfMX0b7zrJfC-4ICc7QilQocCu-wi-xp/s640/247.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwM7tySEa0KxEGPWIheoC44BhKINegdR3Dh30jmUYalPRVzHVk4DoiC7VeKKZdGXVuQ9he7XEInUYdH8b_szgitDoOf2zozGazgmaYG3kbWGr8AHQbEVEVdnvEj601rRiR_gRuzGREc_m/s1600/353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwM7tySEa0KxEGPWIheoC44BhKINegdR3Dh30jmUYalPRVzHVk4DoiC7VeKKZdGXVuQ9he7XEInUYdH8b_szgitDoOf2zozGazgmaYG3kbWGr8AHQbEVEVdnvEj601rRiR_gRuzGREc_m/s640/353.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look familiar?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fn7z3nNhqhj4JfAwBncd7qgR4MLSJzF-P5Tp6qGQDIJLVyw-6qq_6xjC6mtYaUc58sjSg6jLsCgg_xX1-Pe7GDNjgt2wq1egwl48yaFv5FRqHKRaYMqO49e9EqDf9Ty24NUH0Nu0TUrQ/s1600/343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fn7z3nNhqhj4JfAwBncd7qgR4MLSJzF-P5Tp6qGQDIJLVyw-6qq_6xjC6mtYaUc58sjSg6jLsCgg_xX1-Pe7GDNjgt2wq1egwl48yaFv5FRqHKRaYMqO49e9EqDf9Ty24NUH0Nu0TUrQ/s640/343.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do not disturb.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-27293876358146063452012-12-12T18:42:00.000-08:002012-12-12T18:50:32.110-08:00The Most Famous Deer of All<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheE0B-0ClxGMsOi_8oVesAkw_wvLX0oOPqgoptGignQj4mHvm-6SdpzcRZA2MLgPTt1n91bx-VPfLcNp68JYVfAgUVytMBFgkgUs9iflmJ4gi_0_Pmu4oDDXQsC5VB8sQf0P9-1F8auUw4/s1600/rudolph.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheE0B-0ClxGMsOi_8oVesAkw_wvLX0oOPqgoptGignQj4mHvm-6SdpzcRZA2MLgPTt1n91bx-VPfLcNp68JYVfAgUVytMBFgkgUs9iflmJ4gi_0_Pmu4oDDXQsC5VB8sQf0P9-1F8auUw4/s320/rudolph.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rudolph, letting you know it is cool to be different</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
'Tis the holiday season, and whether or not you celebrate Christmas specifically, no doubt you have been bombarded with Christmas music since Thanksgiving. I dabble in said holiday fare, but don't indulge so much as to ban any non-seasonal tunes, like some folks I know. And by know I mean am related to. Anyway, I was listening to the radio the other day and of course <i>Rudolph</i> came on, because it had been 45 minutes, and I was struck, once again, by how mean the other reindeer were. Total bitches! Even his own parents try to hide who he really is! And when Rudy finally rises to red-beaked glory and saves the day, there is never really any just recompense from those haters.<br />
<br />
Typical. My (indirect) point is, I've been thinking about reindeer, and not just the bitchy kind. I figure you good people think about reindeer too, sometimes. But how much do you know about them? In the spirit of giving, I give you . . .<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Ten! Facts! About Reindeer!</b>:<br />
<br />
<b>1.</b> <b>Semantics</b><br />
Reindeer = Caribou = <i>Rangifer tarandus</i><br />
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<b>2. Nice Rack</b><br />
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</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RsRmIbjICLFqNu0oY1-oxSYJb5wxUMk9DMZbDyfuw5OWXU2kDQdkURPcRFO2u8XEdNG7mGoTaKC4MdLpIdcDi4WEqzTNEQ3Sar7gdO4EL4bm4JeYWS_7EiAG6YPrb8cPBV07u03QIQ-z/s1600/caribou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RsRmIbjICLFqNu0oY1-oxSYJb5wxUMk9DMZbDyfuw5OWXU2kDQdkURPcRFO2u8XEdNG7mGoTaKC4MdLpIdcDi4WEqzTNEQ3Sar7gdO4EL4bm4JeYWS_7EiAG6YPrb8cPBV07u03QIQ-z/s200/caribou.jpg" width="200" /></a>Caribou have the second biggest (but definitely <i>most crazy</i>) antlers of any Cervid, behind the moose. They are the only Cervid species that practices equal growth rights: both males and females grow antlers. Interestingly enough, older males drop their antlers in the early winter, young males lose theirs in early spring, and females keep theirs until the summer. So all of Santa's reindeer must be ladies then, no? Not at all surprisingly, their ground up antler powder is a big hit in the aphrodisiac-centered, horned up Asian market.<br />
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<b>3. Glow-in-the-Dark Pee?</b><br />
Okay, not exactly, but it is thought that caribou are the only mammalian species that can see ultraviolet light. This megavision helps the animals to pick out useful things that might otherwise blend in with the monochrome tundra landscape. Things like urine.<br />
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<b>4. Big Nose, Fancy Toes</b><br />
Their huge, smoochable schnozes are equipped with cavernous nostrils that help to warm inhaled air before it enters their lungs. In the winter their normally spongy foot pads harden and shrivel up, exposing the sharp edges of their hooves. This helps with traction on ice, and provides a handy shovel for digging out snow in hopes of grazing. I also tend to shrivel up in the winter, although I have yet to notice a positive correlation on my traction or eating habits.<br />
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<b>5. Walkathon</b><br />
Some North American herds migrate the furthest distances of any terrestrial mammal. They can travel over 3000 miles in a season. Total badasses.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBX1rc0LaGjQMKGoxSTq7Szry9_8nRB6GYFNy7YVEMUXjrJsnsmaXwIIOzH4zC8XfAoXv84u4lsf-8eb1dvMtAHCRRsdH8gUw09rL0oX5hvxM9N5w_kjS5zMhXNVGvTE-2Sbu8KPP88qE0/s1600/lichen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBX1rc0LaGjQMKGoxSTq7Szry9_8nRB6GYFNy7YVEMUXjrJsnsmaXwIIOzH4zC8XfAoXv84u4lsf-8eb1dvMtAHCRRsdH8gUw09rL0oX5hvxM9N5w_kjS5zMhXNVGvTE-2Sbu8KPP88qE0/s200/lichen.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>6. Good Eatin'</b><br />
Reindeer eat a lot of lichen. Reindeer lichen, specifically. They'll also tear into some mushrooms, and rumor has it, the occasional lemming. But I don't know about that. Northerly humans love to nom on reindeer, and the animal (both wild and semi-domesticated) has been a seminal human food source for centuries. Most recently in <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=canned+reindeer+meat+balls&hl=en&tbo=d&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=XTzJUNK_FeqIiwK_goGwBw&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAA&biw=1280&bih=666">canned meatball form</a>. I am sure Sarah Palin loves them.<br />
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<b>7. Where in the World?</b><br />
Caribou range pretty much all over the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holarctic">Holarctic</a> zone, across tundra and boreal forest habitats. Once abundant, their numbers are in decline due to habitat degradation and the biggest bummer-trump of all, climate change. Read more about hard times in reindeer land in Gretel Erhlich's fine <i>National Geographic</i> piece on <a href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/adventure-travel/europe/russia-reindeer-gretel-ehrlich.html">Russia's reindeer herders</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>8. I Vant Your Blood</b><br />
Apparently colonial Frenchies used to mix the blood of caribou with a little hard booze and drink it down to fight off the cold. And perhaps anemia. The modern incarnation of this Caribooze substitutes red wine for blood and adds a bit of sugar or maple syrup to the existing whiskey. Naturally the Quebecois love this sort of abomination.<br />
<br />
<b>9. The Elite Eight</b><br />
Fact: The names "Donner" and "Blitzen" are derived from Germanic words meaning Thunder and Lightening, which makes a strange kind of sense, but leaves Vixen and Cupid as the most questionably-named dudes on the crew, and possibly in reindeer history.<br />
<br />
<b>10. Born Free</b><br />
There are lots of free-ranging, wild herds of reindeer in the world. So too are there semi-domesticated herds. Arctic and Semi-Arctic peoples have been shuffling these fuzzies around for centuries, using their hides, meat, antlers, and even milk, though such animals weren't really considered to be domesticated, and they weren't bred in captivity. Its more like they were partially tamed. Today some nomadic herders track their herds using satellite telemetry. Maybe that is how Santa keeps tabs on his during the off-season...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VtRavv5L-kFTYioqX4abNxmJXgTVJ6niWldUBIe8zHjyUbqTCHgquV75JEhZ6B-RxfjAur8GpQ0kozw-dIWxfUPlWN0tgwOaXD3TjN8_pQvGnKO8fmnxGABx0oCmbqrHMDd2QQMlp1co/s1600/seasonal-reindeer-caribou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8VtRavv5L-kFTYioqX4abNxmJXgTVJ6niWldUBIe8zHjyUbqTCHgquV75JEhZ6B-RxfjAur8GpQ0kozw-dIWxfUPlWN0tgwOaXD3TjN8_pQvGnKO8fmnxGABx0oCmbqrHMDd2QQMlp1co/s400/seasonal-reindeer-caribou.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-1390037182467227462012-11-29T20:41:00.000-08:002012-11-29T20:42:43.913-08:00November RainOh, November, how often you torment me. Aside from Thanksgiving, you can be a pretty harsh month. No sun for days, rain instead of snow, very little daylight. A quick search reveals November is the declared Awareness Month for Epilepsy, American Diabetes, Lung, Pancreatic, Prostate, and Stomach Cancer, Alzheimer's, Crohn's and Ulcerative Colitis, Homeless Youth, and Souls in Purgatory. Is this a coincidence? I am not so sure. It is also National Novel Writing Month, which, when added to this roster of delights makes a sick sort of sense. I'd like to petition the additions of The Benefits of Ingesting Vitamin D Awareness Month, and perhaps Scotch Appreciation Month, too, as long as we're continuing with the health-awareness theme.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Witness: The Forecast. Hit Repeat, Repeat, Repeat.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3HeR6vBDJTQM46UiplRLxkzxCSzekN5xER0z7zLLy1U1Fw1num3SzMClSRJYuFfAysWD8AMnMHYrSpX1BllfTmuV6KOj7GeDXa4wivq-7Ho9nEqZGU2_fAQ2Lp4icXcL3eDI_gY87j5v/s1600/rainy+days.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3HeR6vBDJTQM46UiplRLxkzxCSzekN5xER0z7zLLy1U1Fw1num3SzMClSRJYuFfAysWD8AMnMHYrSpX1BllfTmuV6KOj7GeDXa4wivq-7Ho9nEqZGU2_fAQ2Lp4icXcL3eDI_gY87j5v/s1600/rainy+days.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evidence</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But I'm not trying to get too morose or poetic here. No, no, why bother when someone else has said all there is to say about the melancholy of this dark month and its ubiquitous, monkey-wrenching rain? You know what I am talking about. That's right. Guns N' Roses and one of the most expensive and most glorious music videos/songs of all time. I can not recall a single time when this pathos-inducing song did not cheer me up. Maybe this is because it is a good reminder that it could be <i>always</i> be worse. Or maybe its because it is simply an undeniable invitation to wail on the air guitar, which, in my experience, tends to lift spirits.<br />
<br />
If those things weren't enough, there is a lot of big hair. The video is broken into two, intercut parts--one, the band on stage, and two, the little dramatic enactment of a love story gone wrong. The concert footage features backup singers with big hair, and adulating hips, and prom-gloved arms sweeping upward in joy and agony. Then there is the biggest-haired orchestra you've ever seen, lead by the biggest-haired, mustachioed, head-banging conductor in the world. There are stadium lights, a blood-weeping crucifix, and a flute. A flute!<br />
Slash wails atop a piano (with his own signature big hair), while Axl channels Elton. This is before the fall, and he still looks nearly wholesome, already addicted and violent, but mercifully free of botox and creepy ginger cornrows, almost normal on the cusp of his steep slide into the abyss of full-fledged assholery. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbc1oU__lm0nOjaih7-rZSFCxY3EXxrEZ7iG_MGQKXkL8v0Yt-w9ZkQ6qlBOGpoqsALpHBionJ9gNzeJIZ2f9zkiWKSMBNj_qDiAOP6vyA08iMdcV3yGRE9t9pBzVTLklEBAjQlCz8TZ6/s1600/stephanie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbc1oU__lm0nOjaih7-rZSFCxY3EXxrEZ7iG_MGQKXkL8v0Yt-w9ZkQ6qlBOGpoqsALpHBionJ9gNzeJIZ2f9zkiWKSMBNj_qDiAOP6vyA08iMdcV3yGRE9t9pBzVTLklEBAjQlCz8TZ6/s320/stephanie.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
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Then there is the wedding! A priest named Gianantonio! Stephanie Seymour (Axl's then on-again, off-again girlfriend) in her designer dress, all business on top, party down below! And those Sergeant Pepper Pirate jackets! And Axl's weirdo talon pinky coke ring! And that scandalous tongue kiss! And the moment where Slash nearly loses the rings before peacing out mid-ceremony into the highlight of the video...<br />
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Poor guy is feeling a little emotional. He needs a little time on his own. Time to execute a most epic shred in the perpetually windy deserted desert churchyard, with his enormous hair seductively billowing while invisible helicopters circle and swoop and zoom in on his shirtless, leather-jacket clad abs, excruciatingly tight pants, heel stomps, crotch thrusts, and incredible mega power stance in one of the greatest, most motherfucking badass melodramatic guitar solos in the history of the universe. Seriously, find me a person on this Earth who can watch that clip and not want to be Slash for even one hot minute. You can't. There is no such person. Everyone wants to be Slash in that moment.<br />
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Cut to the strange <i>Godfather</i>-inspired reception, featuring rustically capped Mediterranean boys, 10,000 cigarettes, and the bride's ultra-90's black velvet dress <i>with ribbon choker</i>. Then comes the titular, panic-inducing November Rain, which drives the guests to lose their minds, upturning tables and knocking down the enormous wedding cake that was so recently and tenderly cut, telling us that the party is seriously over. For real. By now the orchestra's conductor is headbanging as if he's being righteously electrocuted, in a way perhaps only another big-haired human (say, me) can truly fully appreciate. Dude is stone-cold rocking it. Then, Boom. Funeral. Bride is dead for reasons unknown, suicide is implied. That blasted rain even interrupts the graveside attendance. Water-phobic mourners run, again, leaving poor booze and pill-addled Axl to toss and turn in his eerily-lit sheets while that same damn relentless rain slides down his enormous windows, the very picture of his poor, broken heart, failure, and sadly, future (<i>Chinese Democracy</i>, anyone?) And, scene.<br />
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This is what November is all about, man!<br />
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Watch the entire original music video in all of its glory <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SbUC-UaAxE" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">here</a>, and the comic summary <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/slideshows/fd77d87c26/november-rain-the-comic"><b><i>here</i></b></a>.<br />
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-54777129753347508712012-11-16T11:14:00.000-08:002012-11-16T11:16:39.751-08:00The Ice Queen ComethHow sweet is Ice? It cools our gin in the summer. It gives us endless recreational opportunities in the winter. It graciously provides us with synonyms for <i>Smirnoff</i>'s malted beverages, righteous bling, meth, murder, <i>in case of emergency</i>, and Ned Stark's justice-dealing greatsword, (which, when you think about it, fit together a bit too perfectly)... You just take water, cool it down, and boom! You've got yourself something to interpret. All summer long the hike to Glacier's Avalanche Lake is unbearably busy, but come late fall, it is your own private glittering little diamond trail of wonders...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikA5QnpvLj2XpF71LIYtPnJCuzoGsS7Fyp7ZOVKkIsQgdE3q_qhkKA-Bm5oBBXVJslOUGsh30nL7qp4Kugtzhz6qsGFIGbkIgeTD8nnC9BdhMQx4LVm_q-YzUypqKZ7tRXFIh6KxLPhVOG/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikA5QnpvLj2XpF71LIYtPnJCuzoGsS7Fyp7ZOVKkIsQgdE3q_qhkKA-Bm5oBBXVJslOUGsh30nL7qp4Kugtzhz6qsGFIGbkIgeTD8nnC9BdhMQx4LVm_q-YzUypqKZ7tRXFIh6KxLPhVOG/s640/013.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avalanche Creek: Curator of Icy Delights</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORy8yFdPoXMn3r-Hgz2HLke-s9NT5_pQEzrUST0GW0cUCBSwtrdcQ2HXEXlYcc246VIYKomnq5WC6fW4ZXQgLDXtYeQe9QLHWJrP1tSNBp8QaXEJ6vEyX0AxnbVBSDrSydtGjmITEi3Lf/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiORy8yFdPoXMn3r-Hgz2HLke-s9NT5_pQEzrUST0GW0cUCBSwtrdcQ2HXEXlYcc246VIYKomnq5WC6fW4ZXQgLDXtYeQe9QLHWJrP1tSNBp8QaXEJ6vEyX0AxnbVBSDrSydtGjmITEi3Lf/s400/016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your Typical Icicle Action (See: Textbook, Jingle Bells)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Labyrinth (See: David Bowie)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cRMtlWLXDXikGvg7i2oSkYVijxqJanZjbAHwfNQz2np4gKZ0gHNVoEEUXhd6UDdYfAN-H5D4O-hrpoE4Hh8R-HkNXSl3oCQs8dxQgMt4DY6gvwsMpQKK5865vAMjzjqh52JplKbCAjEL/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cRMtlWLXDXikGvg7i2oSkYVijxqJanZjbAHwfNQz2np4gKZ0gHNVoEEUXhd6UDdYfAN-H5D4O-hrpoE4Hh8R-HkNXSl3oCQs8dxQgMt4DY6gvwsMpQKK5865vAMjzjqh52JplKbCAjEL/s640/029.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dust Ruffle (See: Car Wash, Classy Mud Flap Alternative to Naked Lady Silhouette )</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6I4KuCaNsmbAJCHm963pgdUFbvAT9fcXB3nGUWz3uYYMO0NSmnZ0HlYKixnoBLBYUie_0nSjJBa3QJ_KKH2H9G2NLYtS7LBsOgaEzFEyMvNoDxjpHGdg_S2tbVPCRcArIt0bQNVPY_OZl/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6I4KuCaNsmbAJCHm963pgdUFbvAT9fcXB3nGUWz3uYYMO0NSmnZ0HlYKixnoBLBYUie_0nSjJBa3QJ_KKH2H9G2NLYtS7LBsOgaEzFEyMvNoDxjpHGdg_S2tbVPCRcArIt0bQNVPY_OZl/s640/030.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Trumpet Bell (See: Angels We Have Heard On High)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpWi6X2tAtOhkzFlAYtAlk9wQIOLducFjMkZgJfgB-AK55vGccbEEluHZDi5GG40rErIzyOyY1anMm5ILX1Ywvjdwasf52trD8boiz-TmAGtt_k2RUhhbmhKdgYQoCXIbLSQY8-3Exf6E/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpWi6X2tAtOhkzFlAYtAlk9wQIOLducFjMkZgJfgB-AK55vGccbEEluHZDi5GG40rErIzyOyY1anMm5ILX1Ywvjdwasf52trD8boiz-TmAGtt_k2RUhhbmhKdgYQoCXIbLSQY8-3Exf6E/s640/032.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hand-Dipped Candle (See: Renaissance Festival, Rembrandt)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCuDQywBln-2-gBr3XvTOjdR1qg2HIdC38-uP5O17XUjpsxja4y4Lc_FPvV559Vh52sw4oPp5_xjq-UKlzDRCng6t6xIPJnqIb3I5pQh_EYVz6T3HrU-t2o-aHytCZPdbjmofYq63vQTu/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVCuDQywBln-2-gBr3XvTOjdR1qg2HIdC38-uP5O17XUjpsxja4y4Lc_FPvV559Vh52sw4oPp5_xjq-UKlzDRCng6t6xIPJnqIb3I5pQh_EYVz6T3HrU-t2o-aHytCZPdbjmofYq63vQTu/s640/036.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blorb (See: Cauliflower. Do Not See: Growths)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI2BdIaBxRg605TioNLxYEuf8F-45gOPTd3tubKYazYRo38RJqYH6RLLElNsA1jQkMiL6tI-RQyOyjE_u31guS7f91fZzme7Plh3KtOz1fxXWTKN9Zq911w845rBsNquVx091yLKDKoqS/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI2BdIaBxRg605TioNLxYEuf8F-45gOPTd3tubKYazYRo38RJqYH6RLLElNsA1jQkMiL6tI-RQyOyjE_u31guS7f91fZzme7Plh3KtOz1fxXWTKN9Zq911w845rBsNquVx091yLKDKoqS/s640/018.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Eruption (See: Death Spikes, Sea Urchin)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4bZCVczWkTVOcOs8uTAOrMt6b_0fkp2zzHCtapyYvwrq3zMYhk_akyhP7A0heQGPpsRVs4y6xHhD1Yh7H1HHZLwVe2eHv2d5tlUevrMP4oTZ0u6SEX6GnWxaJomCHCzNFwwIQxr7aZgG/s1600/mantis+ice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4bZCVczWkTVOcOs8uTAOrMt6b_0fkp2zzHCtapyYvwrq3zMYhk_akyhP7A0heQGPpsRVs4y6xHhD1Yh7H1HHZLwVe2eHv2d5tlUevrMP4oTZ0u6SEX6GnWxaJomCHCzNFwwIQxr7aZgG/s640/mantis+ice.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Forest Ninja (See: Death Widow, Nakamura and Slavin)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7duhoIiyCQUk5VEMyRAeCobTlSnQKS6owqsUxjl0a36ApXQvN66_smEYvbfTrMTG1d3XQ2fvn6TqqULKr0dkqgdLFoymKH-82BueuijpCv0iVpovItet2V61vL986sXc9m28GZxYDlgo/s1600/vanilla_ice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7duhoIiyCQUk5VEMyRAeCobTlSnQKS6owqsUxjl0a36ApXQvN66_smEYvbfTrMTG1d3XQ2fvn6TqqULKr0dkqgdLFoymKH-82BueuijpCv0iVpovItet2V61vL986sXc9m28GZxYDlgo/s640/vanilla_ice.jpg" width="512" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vanilla (See: Flattop, Collaborate and Listen, Terrible Mistake)</td></tr>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-62497351524702784632012-11-05T15:59:00.000-08:002012-11-05T19:25:51.495-08:00Time To Be Koi, RoyIt is the eve of Election Day. Like so many others, I am anxious. I'd like to give my heart and brain a respite from their own constant buzzing. Brain, I say, <i>chill out</i>. Heart, <i>stop thumpering so</i>. Remember that you are full of hope, actually. Think about the least buzzy-est thing you can think of, and meditate on that. And stop rolling your eyes, and tightening your fists for a second, would you? Think of... hmmm... fish...?<br />
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Yes, think of those bright koi you saw last week at the <a href="http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/">St. Louis botanical gardens</a>. Think of those fish, wimpling silently, brocading dark water. Whisper their names: <i>Kumonryu,</i> Nine Tattooed Dragons. <i>Asagi, </i>Spring Onion Color. <i>Kikokuryu</i>, Sparkle. Remember how their scales shimmered, how they glowed, mimicking the falling sycamore leaves. Think how brief the time is that a fish could hide among leaves; how brief any time is in the end. Remember how they came to you, a string of beacons, across the pond, to your very fingertips. And breathe again.<br />
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In Japanese, <i>koi</i> is a homophone--a word that is pronounced the same as another word, but has a different meaning--for <i>love</i>. Which I suppose is what I was talking about all along.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWoIk1IK53lP5CM6oLF1Gbf6srrtwxGN6B9ZSJyIy8pj51_E8F8U-qrbOtw7tROfQCIRVE3vNakAki69N5imnvV_wHteazuRPGHcwgYsgAhe4c0vsNnMUKbXQtzbdRp4-KoWd9XD6NOfh/s1600/433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWoIk1IK53lP5CM6oLF1Gbf6srrtwxGN6B9ZSJyIy8pj51_E8F8U-qrbOtw7tROfQCIRVE3vNakAki69N5imnvV_wHteazuRPGHcwgYsgAhe4c0vsNnMUKbXQtzbdRp4-KoWd9XD6NOfh/s640/433.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxaZ3urUbJ8uXD48dgHMdxEL-002cQfvUGGCt-a6NW1TCFRw3OF61U0fmw3zsL9wgURJr-2xgnW_fXDRRB5Zqcd060XFmsXUibXJKBHzmqPJGU0GvfUAVL1KV7g1Ke-EINOci8J1LVi2p/s1600/416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxaZ3urUbJ8uXD48dgHMdxEL-002cQfvUGGCt-a6NW1TCFRw3OF61U0fmw3zsL9wgURJr-2xgnW_fXDRRB5Zqcd060XFmsXUibXJKBHzmqPJGU0GvfUAVL1KV7g1Ke-EINOci8J1LVi2p/s640/416.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
"Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculite patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery."<br />
--Cormac McCarthy, final paragraph from <i>The Road</i><br />
<br />
And also...<br />
<i>Koi to the world. All the boys and girls. Koi to the fishes in the deep blue sea. </i><br />
<i>Koi to you and me...</i><br />
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-22091301312130152872012-10-31T10:49:00.000-07:002012-11-16T11:17:20.355-08:00A Farewell to Arms<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFn-xwZK7lebRCXr9-4kMV6Of8PgCRevGJ5ZKjfUElF5IfLlKSUpTgs04PoUInmrlRYgWnEeiKKsIhy-bDW1KmZDgAb4fN3tGDnldseKRffzAzGcDb2B6BCTQAKyyVlYTR5e30fYtKrUv_/s1600/katie+reach+for+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFn-xwZK7lebRCXr9-4kMV6Of8PgCRevGJ5ZKjfUElF5IfLlKSUpTgs04PoUInmrlRYgWnEeiKKsIhy-bDW1KmZDgAb4fN3tGDnldseKRffzAzGcDb2B6BCTQAKyyVlYTR5e30fYtKrUv_/s320/katie+reach+for+tree.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where giants have walked, apparently</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well, my field season is finally over. This was the last year of this incarnation of the Bear DNA project round these parts, and we had a good run, but the end was bittersweet. Taking down all of the barbed wire and nails and such from trees in which they've been embedded in for four years necessitated semi-Herculean efforts.<br />
<br />
And also sound effects. A whole lot of sound effects. And talking to those trees. And yourself. And cursing all things metal. And cursing the very tall people who put the tags in too high. And cursing the trees themselves, but then feeling really guilty and taking back those particular curses, and putting a bare palm against the sticky, hairy truck and apologizing.<br />
<br />
<br />
A person walking down the trail blindfolded may have thought one of many things:<br />
<br />
(1) that an Olympic dead-weight lifter had moved to the area to train;<br />
<br />
(2) that James Brown was back from the dead and enjoying more rustic <i>huh-hahs</i>;<br />
<br />
(3) that George Carlin was back from the dead and testing new cussing combinations;<br />
<br />
(4) that a sadistic dentist was administering a root canal (<i>just relax, help me, help you...</i>):<br />
<br />
or (5), that a deeply conflicted Smeagol was waging a schizophrenic war of morality...<br />
(<i>f*#k you!...I'm sorry...dammit!...it's okay...arrghgh!...sorry, sorry, sorry</i>)...<br />
<br />
In short, the whole process turned each of us into a bit of a weirdo.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLQSiPaGRhxV_bdI-3L73Ard9-e5DJaSCghg45b1TJCe1cKHiA7I94mf6NmvNkDvNezJG0t1OwPOEuiJNu4ICdv2M5Wq7faF0NKy5-yrEBfUwDDPFM19rcDHG2pvh1j20f3-s-P8Z7zZDX/s1600/061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLQSiPaGRhxV_bdI-3L73Ard9-e5DJaSCghg45b1TJCe1cKHiA7I94mf6NmvNkDvNezJG0t1OwPOEuiJNu4ICdv2M5Wq7faF0NKy5-yrEBfUwDDPFM19rcDHG2pvh1j20f3-s-P8Z7zZDX/s320/061.JPG" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cleaning up the forest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Meanwhile, such efforts worked their physical magic on our bodies... making us that much more tired at the end of the day. Our arms, so accustomed to hanging uselessly at our sides all summer, were finally called to... um, arms... as it were. They got all strong. They developed lines and bulges we'd never seen before. They lead us to delusions of grandeur--mainly day dreams of careers in arm-wrestling or can-crushing or ripping off doorknobs for fun. But we asked too much of the poor lazy things. They got tired, weak. They began to rebel... went numb while we slept, hands curling into clawed shapes. They started to seriously complain when lifted above chest-level. They did not want to help remove so much sap from our hair. They started talking to our knees, who got all cranky again, and began to imitate crumpled cellophane and creaky stairs and Rice Krispies freshly doused in milk.<br />
<br />
Then the weather got in on the torment. Snow then rain then slush then rain then snow. 60 mile and hour wind gusts pushing us backward, tearing maps from our hands, and slamming car doors with authority. Cold air freezing our shoes and toes and fingers and noses. All of it briskly escorting us out of the woods. <i>Call it a night, folks.</i> And then we were done.<br />
<br />
And while a week later I am still enjoying the fact that the decision to venture out into the wintry mix is now optional, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it already. I guess I'll be seeing you around, bears. Enjoy your long nap. I think I'll have one too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-87535629052133839632012-10-30T13:12:00.000-07:002012-10-30T13:12:50.394-07:00Hiking the Nyack Loop<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUh6cCl4epspLlXqbkaXAR3wffzo8k0ChQ9sIWnkFiG92sqDc3dU7d2Y5W1rduLNoJqTQG5lRRxu7TmBYQO6goedss_G-Y6zGFxxP5vvxBvDnkI4oOjnnDPoqNivsKCUMAVScF0ZgcwSq/s1600/095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUh6cCl4epspLlXqbkaXAR3wffzo8k0ChQ9sIWnkFiG92sqDc3dU7d2Y5W1rduLNoJqTQG5lRRxu7TmBYQO6goedss_G-Y6zGFxxP5vvxBvDnkI4oOjnnDPoqNivsKCUMAVScF0ZgcwSq/s640/095.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reasons for and advantages of getting up early</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OaGREc10SApMbCswHCFDT_X-ky3Qp8Uz0Xei-tMf_IxN32UfYhlUFcGT3fqbswAalJALeB8vz8fkkPGqOQZELjTAIHK5Ck5DnefhICGrkiMd50OBY5MRrGs83TbSFKiVguBK7n8NHsG0/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5OaGREc10SApMbCswHCFDT_X-ky3Qp8Uz0Xei-tMf_IxN32UfYhlUFcGT3fqbswAalJALeB8vz8fkkPGqOQZELjTAIHK5Ck5DnefhICGrkiMd50OBY5MRrGs83TbSFKiVguBK7n8NHsG0/s400/036.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paperback writer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX6MfXeim_thQ6_WysjsGiNjXPCdfFO8VQ_5dWU53qEiStBpm5O2GLPOx_ZikCDQfZw7ccF6FmsP-aNk03klwJ01OJ25R2AUM9DcLrd6M8KZrc9HRF3TjptfOFJn1csltCtTiXHRuETwY/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX6MfXeim_thQ6_WysjsGiNjXPCdfFO8VQ_5dWU53qEiStBpm5O2GLPOx_ZikCDQfZw7ccF6FmsP-aNk03klwJ01OJ25R2AUM9DcLrd6M8KZrc9HRF3TjptfOFJn1csltCtTiXHRuETwY/s400/032.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilled frills</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwhhjCk6FPJlzSdRIk38TS8YXzf8CFhQqGRQ3e6uNpd36aAR4G0TzAioDHyrJjw4Ux4Armb8MuwjU34kMOUHLNsnmZq1W5-UEpZuPC_-IEtO7Mxa3Fs0fXVJVZkwcO_JFmn34EFVfZPO0/s1600/100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpwhhjCk6FPJlzSdRIk38TS8YXzf8CFhQqGRQ3e6uNpd36aAR4G0TzAioDHyrJjw4Ux4Armb8MuwjU34kMOUHLNsnmZq1W5-UEpZuPC_-IEtO7Mxa3Fs0fXVJVZkwcO_JFmn34EFVfZPO0/s400/100.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beargrass resembles a bear not at all</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-TxUDjL8GNEaFD0p4xPW9IoyEyq4if5Z1XQqJ8svN1r8HSSvBEgRiSxFqr4KM58wD-ETbcgyF04dpaeaLAfzbyJ0ydmcowBHPY74BCmrReStkMgpVaI5JHpQCIyr0JLWWV7N8jPQhWW8/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-TxUDjL8GNEaFD0p4xPW9IoyEyq4if5Z1XQqJ8svN1r8HSSvBEgRiSxFqr4KM58wD-ETbcgyF04dpaeaLAfzbyJ0ydmcowBHPY74BCmrReStkMgpVaI5JHpQCIyr0JLWWV7N8jPQhWW8/s400/045.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sigil</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdKQ9aw4hYYXB6V7bOmdWpWYVrwVaGpmRmPrjeSNI8GumyX8toZY_CZRnUgry5qOvlR5x8qOs4WmD6W0AcqX7us-wxC-LfOYTQfG9aRfGgpFKXtADy8W0x3MCMhXPqHvUPK4o6ftHGZCp/s1600/062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdKQ9aw4hYYXB6V7bOmdWpWYVrwVaGpmRmPrjeSNI8GumyX8toZY_CZRnUgry5qOvlR5x8qOs4WmD6W0AcqX7us-wxC-LfOYTQfG9aRfGgpFKXtADy8W0x3MCMhXPqHvUPK4o6ftHGZCp/s400/062.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charcoal scales do shimmer still</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LveFBDMSd3IZd2CvEuxOug5zI4dkQfcPan4N2OpJy5F-VXq2DiNMzuPKsw19Iu8mUIdGEQSPKtKIj_0hic1WL5wCaF8G1LBAlPUEiin6X86x01SCfFDUaGX386HSj5eWzM9wdmrqbpr6/s1600/106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LveFBDMSd3IZd2CvEuxOug5zI4dkQfcPan4N2OpJy5F-VXq2DiNMzuPKsw19Iu8mUIdGEQSPKtKIj_0hic1WL5wCaF8G1LBAlPUEiin6X86x01SCfFDUaGX386HSj5eWzM9wdmrqbpr6/s400/106.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pearly everlasting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld0uYgxx9m_ZDbBaEfywZerw6uJBUMgpLJ-_PqltoVFDjb6s4So9UzAk5aX-JUT1CTbJje7C36X7DKeIiDd7Q9esawRL2JYiO6p93GQVgHyxXXBIkCtpGc1OuPIsTYFsTx4rIoFUw7ojm/s1600/112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld0uYgxx9m_ZDbBaEfywZerw6uJBUMgpLJ-_PqltoVFDjb6s4So9UzAk5aX-JUT1CTbJje7C36X7DKeIiDd7Q9esawRL2JYiO6p93GQVgHyxXXBIkCtpGc1OuPIsTYFsTx4rIoFUw7ojm/s400/112.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ring around and around and around the mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9b9OaJz6cwTXUqeau9b5ZHZPEBVRI1k-OMUBcJZC1QeRO9RzYZEiYH_MgGLuTXPCWKC9iC3l6aksoyvtkm4kX6dNf7DKFw7FG98ojWZohaibkM2Yj1xvq6qQFFeHI3w_X1uDTQwxy4DMh/s1600/120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9b9OaJz6cwTXUqeau9b5ZHZPEBVRI1k-OMUBcJZC1QeRO9RzYZEiYH_MgGLuTXPCWKC9iC3l6aksoyvtkm4kX6dNf7DKFw7FG98ojWZohaibkM2Yj1xvq6qQFFeHI3w_X1uDTQwxy4DMh/s400/120.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>And when I shall die, take him and cut him up into little stars</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcH3DMxv3q5JYCVH2B8JViJFoFjzcaSGRxSitYf2TMm82isLhVsnzLI41Oq9__gC08vY0n5jIcJScjtt94dmiDWIxqb9vV85l0EP-gHwMQJRwZjkxclRFhyphenhyphen3KgG7iafKMmkB6zfPvHHrqd/s1600/124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcH3DMxv3q5JYCVH2B8JViJFoFjzcaSGRxSitYf2TMm82isLhVsnzLI41Oq9__gC08vY0n5jIcJScjtt94dmiDWIxqb9vV85l0EP-gHwMQJRwZjkxclRFhyphenhyphen3KgG7iafKMmkB6zfPvHHrqd/s400/124.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running through it</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNepWUHcoFP9e1S6le5uU8AMm46orepYv779q5OB83UVAMUMWYI03DeWmoX8CXnmQ6RkgkMGyZ2w-jgKWHWyRM4XThLuJPK24yRJ01y_t3AiolvvwX4ngEAomdVGz1-5cEEN8THl40F87J/s1600/143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNepWUHcoFP9e1S6le5uU8AMm46orepYv779q5OB83UVAMUMWYI03DeWmoX8CXnmQ6RkgkMGyZ2w-jgKWHWyRM4XThLuJPK24yRJ01y_t3AiolvvwX4ngEAomdVGz1-5cEEN8THl40F87J/s400/143.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Castaways and cutouts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqBtu7yAZVIAv1Kcio9OUimXKN7v_TTvrHIQKikAhoOpISzwZ5Ou06tQuIrfuT_QCRBQS814rUUzurR6ZqiaC3L-IQO9iHZUZVi4f7nDBX-QfXcJk8sugqi1LeoPQDdjZYVBbhYCMybNG/s1600/142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqBtu7yAZVIAv1Kcio9OUimXKN7v_TTvrHIQKikAhoOpISzwZ5Ou06tQuIrfuT_QCRBQS814rUUzurR6ZqiaC3L-IQO9iHZUZVi4f7nDBX-QfXcJk8sugqi1LeoPQDdjZYVBbhYCMybNG/s400/142.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You've got to take water to make water</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlp7Aj89njPIb9lA9MxpzbLagXy7Vigj9JuOLPnsM7iFxdponL4jDZ9xrzVMBSQu6C23vFDbYshEUa2P8vBGk7QS4dxeAF1Nb2kfG_DIOM0ELVm0syIh-PqVpHaeuCA_JNB5bl-CUz2l6/s1600/174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlp7Aj89njPIb9lA9MxpzbLagXy7Vigj9JuOLPnsM7iFxdponL4jDZ9xrzVMBSQu6C23vFDbYshEUa2P8vBGk7QS4dxeAF1Nb2kfG_DIOM0ELVm0syIh-PqVpHaeuCA_JNB5bl-CUz2l6/s640/174.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dewshine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RMkh4_MIF_iA934WF2lYJlvJLgLXxFjmDvtCahiwrnxiZXi56uNz3aTJfr7qFQDbk4UdpAC0MT1Nnbm4qB4y1Q1wvpXzMLZhEVGF7CmaVSvm-OmlPqfzz8oVDvZVQmiaEIE-dXN7L6GM/s1600/177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RMkh4_MIF_iA934WF2lYJlvJLgLXxFjmDvtCahiwrnxiZXi56uNz3aTJfr7qFQDbk4UdpAC0MT1Nnbm4qB4y1Q1wvpXzMLZhEVGF7CmaVSvm-OmlPqfzz8oVDvZVQmiaEIE-dXN7L6GM/s400/177.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not all bread crumbs are made of bread</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV2yZrSg2edqtNamR9PoKVqBLcSvpi4EtYG4rvrNpkfQaobQJT9_myAjBoScbBPPOg07zW5WJOdeFrZYB3Qwbka8YCADA7v2t64yKlIhYo10jOpRcY2R0CBN1CKgSTlkk5ZL7nBj2T913/s1600/182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV2yZrSg2edqtNamR9PoKVqBLcSvpi4EtYG4rvrNpkfQaobQJT9_myAjBoScbBPPOg07zW5WJOdeFrZYB3Qwbka8YCADA7v2t64yKlIhYo10jOpRcY2R0CBN1CKgSTlkk5ZL7nBj2T913/s400/182.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some fine faerie riding glove</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc2d6IOWBynVj2ElUEVgja854YAU0lnLGLLRBLwqySiDcjOHlkVehU7mpPK52gKDFTlFmUB8L69YR09fBFfLqLyLPJp9COrSasQjcC1TCJ4C2r4V_-mPZMPHZipGvTzIp0UwCpE_uX-H1/s1600/188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc2d6IOWBynVj2ElUEVgja854YAU0lnLGLLRBLwqySiDcjOHlkVehU7mpPK52gKDFTlFmUB8L69YR09fBFfLqLyLPJp9COrSasQjcC1TCJ4C2r4V_-mPZMPHZipGvTzIp0UwCpE_uX-H1/s400/188.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can find me at da club</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhn2AHXAN8SXvBlrNS_4QVKrPmyNjs4kIkVBKthMlAbXf-6JeTt8DqrHLHrPrJnWHo50WTVIy1Ybs2LLh7R3-EMpcKQJm1gwz24TCA8HNsi3P_hp0C46jdnAIZrespuF03ws8FUABdTZA/s1600/192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhn2AHXAN8SXvBlrNS_4QVKrPmyNjs4kIkVBKthMlAbXf-6JeTt8DqrHLHrPrJnWHo50WTVIy1Ybs2LLh7R3-EMpcKQJm1gwz24TCA8HNsi3P_hp0C46jdnAIZrespuF03ws8FUABdTZA/s400/192.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One side will make you grow taller</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2yQp-Pn-4C1TElHCniHCWekZm2qXa6NHeTcAVylgOZOKbhQmxe3SYDoD13gGr4CZqm1M9NV0kRNkRot_aMLMMHK_zpDv2JUoAQ-klICkTiAS80UjdXvf43TuuyWRhIsnM9yWEfiwbYGg/s1600/197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO2yQp-Pn-4C1TElHCniHCWekZm2qXa6NHeTcAVylgOZOKbhQmxe3SYDoD13gGr4CZqm1M9NV0kRNkRot_aMLMMHK_zpDv2JUoAQ-klICkTiAS80UjdXvf43TuuyWRhIsnM9yWEfiwbYGg/s400/197.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Symphoricarpos</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGRXXuRl4GKCUwClAtxMXS5RyN-MJkf9boj_hLIio6YKcP5sKIxzSCNc1-sXse2D_9YLWS0A5mh-dejPLwFrftcB5Nf58ePjesaufKE2mErMpAoprnWwC6I9xpHSsv_AJSJtbAbdWGohx/s1600/201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGRXXuRl4GKCUwClAtxMXS5RyN-MJkf9boj_hLIio6YKcP5sKIxzSCNc1-sXse2D_9YLWS0A5mh-dejPLwFrftcB5Nf58ePjesaufKE2mErMpAoprnWwC6I9xpHSsv_AJSJtbAbdWGohx/s400/201.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soldiers in their caps of red</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke_mKp2UotKp0ULx_8ri-7jEF_HvUsCd6WEIEL-iBk0uVvHzPYbfZVhTlNoBBJOBb01r1ybs1p8LlUkwh9VspWiEGuAELcOBF_ImJWEY7F7syqgLkNh78L89naUxGqZMabliljhDwftyx/s1600/205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke_mKp2UotKp0ULx_8ri-7jEF_HvUsCd6WEIEL-iBk0uVvHzPYbfZVhTlNoBBJOBb01r1ybs1p8LlUkwh9VspWiEGuAELcOBF_ImJWEY7F7syqgLkNh78L89naUxGqZMabliljhDwftyx/s640/205.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cipher, decipher</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMH1IqJ69KvNvYXeLrUvMhYlnD8RU31biEQzI9Smc0kEWycMYBiNOBqD_NoNJALN4sGONKR19X7d-lYIi_2Y7rgzM3up8Y7q_vVaKArtwKgq-lUyffXt5Ut3iQVEdCbBPslTIA_n-gY6uo/s1600/219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMH1IqJ69KvNvYXeLrUvMhYlnD8RU31biEQzI9Smc0kEWycMYBiNOBqD_NoNJALN4sGONKR19X7d-lYIi_2Y7rgzM3up8Y7q_vVaKArtwKgq-lUyffXt5Ut3iQVEdCbBPslTIA_n-gY6uo/s640/219.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At a attention</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMHfPZ90vujYJEPSJVdBdqrfR55NYtY8-V08zGvEG3m3Eo-0qwPbtIe24gkpmfxtrLygBS1NWdJTYNnNnu6kR51QNygrd80EUA5DrBBkT6x9n29RE4t1C-mcZ07a_5A-WZfZA35P2Ygbd/s1600/237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMHfPZ90vujYJEPSJVdBdqrfR55NYtY8-V08zGvEG3m3Eo-0qwPbtIe24gkpmfxtrLygBS1NWdJTYNnNnu6kR51QNygrd80EUA5DrBBkT6x9n29RE4t1C-mcZ07a_5A-WZfZA35P2Ygbd/s640/237.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One thousand silent sparklers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13yShavxl47W2QyDtjxcts0FSDAhkSZIUKfuCUH7CflA6U8Etr0qfBF02H9YQ7DrACX6haPR_81WQLuZAjC6ztl7Dta070i_Lqvk9dckvd0WkJilTJZQunPgA9sK5BHZC3YTZ5bwB2mr1/s1600/155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13yShavxl47W2QyDtjxcts0FSDAhkSZIUKfuCUH7CflA6U8Etr0qfBF02H9YQ7DrACX6haPR_81WQLuZAjC6ztl7Dta070i_Lqvk9dckvd0WkJilTJZQunPgA9sK5BHZC3YTZ5bwB2mr1/s400/155.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Traditionally, berserkers do mean business</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-84357118248308281862012-10-06T14:32:00.001-07:002012-10-06T14:32:56.634-07:00Winter Is ComingThe Starks were right.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjL4RW6bKBQmiUv-iMVwLfpgr-O_IOqREyQDzGHGiTSp8kLCS9muDskvcBC-4Krawzk_HoGabFE0ivYoHoZFMSfoz6N4_15nwocQJTsxed_O27t5uHocCekUTLOJxagj-VKhys0NjVd9j0/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjL4RW6bKBQmiUv-iMVwLfpgr-O_IOqREyQDzGHGiTSp8kLCS9muDskvcBC-4Krawzk_HoGabFE0ivYoHoZFMSfoz6N4_15nwocQJTsxed_O27t5uHocCekUTLOJxagj-VKhys0NjVd9j0/s640/023.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I heard from the trees a great parade</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuATLAvXmdaRgdx9CD9kQCvQnjeWmbY4fx1ZPWrgYSjn5Lil_U1Or7SLY3Ee580p92rvzvBPCWjquYF-_4b1cX-71KGJMWq9Pvdi0PXeINTYH18OwQZDk4X_0OGRaCDYzH0UmJ9_Eeu5UN/s1600/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuATLAvXmdaRgdx9CD9kQCvQnjeWmbY4fx1ZPWrgYSjn5Lil_U1Or7SLY3Ee580p92rvzvBPCWjquYF-_4b1cX-71KGJMWq9Pvdi0PXeINTYH18OwQZDk4X_0OGRaCDYzH0UmJ9_Eeu5UN/s640/024.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All things go, all things go</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIT2wuCj19SFcXwDXx0cgDuSy8Y2gykrUJmEDsGfA6qhbJhL6jinCbo1swpa4taiF7-ku9sQkubOWB5O9Orsk113cLnuvcgzwdHiSzGdntP-WRl6ut1n0xl5uXWBrZPtrKA81OnJf0XFTJ/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIT2wuCj19SFcXwDXx0cgDuSy8Y2gykrUJmEDsGfA6qhbJhL6jinCbo1swpa4taiF7-ku9sQkubOWB5O9Orsk113cLnuvcgzwdHiSzGdntP-WRl6ut1n0xl5uXWBrZPtrKA81OnJf0XFTJ/s640/022.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Be still and know your sign</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi7c_zuaUKDC-LjLDD00Y_qc2gDHTzHLsobI9bgcozTumV6EGQaw0R74uGtp4H8KbMBytSP8BzSQkydpMr7o36DJFqgXcdL6a37qf-D8iUq010yCBSVwW9MC3G1LOcBKJNL6JlBhJWIqW/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibi7c_zuaUKDC-LjLDD00Y_qc2gDHTzHLsobI9bgcozTumV6EGQaw0R74uGtp4H8KbMBytSP8BzSQkydpMr7o36DJFqgXcdL6a37qf-D8iUq010yCBSVwW9MC3G1LOcBKJNL6JlBhJWIqW/s640/034.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll put you right in it, I'll show you the sky</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCWrJ6NB4k1w7V3yOJmPyJbGKbjKqqWkky1-0Ys7kbv6vzH1JML7yJdIQx43rEa_j5svtZE0VezeSj4s_vYyJeLhGT11xNHQrbOhQhHr7O3EJhdnMlFwB9n4GpUvi758ff5a25Vxdftz_/s1600/037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCWrJ6NB4k1w7V3yOJmPyJbGKbjKqqWkky1-0Ys7kbv6vzH1JML7yJdIQx43rEa_j5svtZE0VezeSj4s_vYyJeLhGT11xNHQrbOhQhHr7O3EJhdnMlFwB9n4GpUvi758ff5a25Vxdftz_/s640/037.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dreamlike, on account of that frosting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDk022XPHBCHjJzKcfi_-hoXPSq3r009__tgVVUj9tKIPIyL9iB6cdm1gQQHJcSKgoC3uW8S3IOBtHdho-jZbuN7GF4M2cNLsJZwssk3D_ZXi4OQ7Lvay9hQdUQziu9JvbXfsswW_YvArg/s1600/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDk022XPHBCHjJzKcfi_-hoXPSq3r009__tgVVUj9tKIPIyL9iB6cdm1gQQHJcSKgoC3uW8S3IOBtHdho-jZbuN7GF4M2cNLsJZwssk3D_ZXi4OQ7Lvay9hQdUQziu9JvbXfsswW_YvArg/s640/039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sweet delights of a wild funnel cake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJcIdtypFoYTHJ-c4QYA1ioYqCwSdb2ADfWAYlJRNJ4-EcPtgw5FE5MijO02aofYgwAdcver89eE8a82JIxf1w0MjKR6vhTI3wR0oDXuRNM3i-S5_2bQsTfe0D9JOVBxJzAPDpnG79du87/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJcIdtypFoYTHJ-c4QYA1ioYqCwSdb2ADfWAYlJRNJ4-EcPtgw5FE5MijO02aofYgwAdcver89eE8a82JIxf1w0MjKR6vhTI3wR0oDXuRNM3i-S5_2bQsTfe0D9JOVBxJzAPDpnG79du87/s640/043.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you've got the patience, celebrate the ancients</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-psjVYsaf_ioXOSnON2v05X547GFXKLw4yPNJN6ogR0XyBZz-C6bkl6N4mH6mtPPQOF14JX8zfUA9QU3_qum3HskoGslihsVnWyQNyslPnb7OE_Ygo2sKGWJ5y5u6a7ItRQxL2p5QUNd/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv-psjVYsaf_ioXOSnON2v05X547GFXKLw4yPNJN6ogR0XyBZz-C6bkl6N4mH6mtPPQOF14JX8zfUA9QU3_qum3HskoGslihsVnWyQNyslPnb7OE_Ygo2sKGWJ5y5u6a7ItRQxL2p5QUNd/s640/048.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgp_GQL9jAr8K7w8FuNbT3NIHoK7OGFNYg38LKq9eqoBn-lXgS6wVr2NZ-yn1GseV-YR-uEJMUeVU0C_GPLY7S-1CaK8s4cx45mkOWz0_LM7oumBnyIiWJPO7sJW43QfL5xcD5dU684lwp/s1600/056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgp_GQL9jAr8K7w8FuNbT3NIHoK7OGFNYg38LKq9eqoBn-lXgS6wVr2NZ-yn1GseV-YR-uEJMUeVU0C_GPLY7S-1CaK8s4cx45mkOWz0_LM7oumBnyIiWJPO7sJW43QfL5xcD5dU684lwp/s640/056.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure an hour in for thawing out frozen shoes</td></tr>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-16959661195636982402012-09-26T10:51:00.001-07:002012-10-06T12:52:04.350-07:00Fact and/or Fiction<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Remember that old fifth grade writing journal? Yeah, well it wasn't all opinion essays and seasonal poetry and Thoreauean pursuits. Oh, no. My young mind really stretched her legs in the free fiction assignments. Evidently these were not subjected to the normal litany of grammatical corrections. Sweet, sweet creative licence! Freed from the constraints of sane punctuation and responsible spelling choices, I filled pages and pages...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfu0OiyAX4msR5MKOFnBs9qBI9cJPKljndnThs9y5ChdzzOalK-pfQBSF_-ylgz4E8gu61SbuGbMBft41PVUeM-byWV8h9vnRgtG5wTrvlAkDyiLu9svC2lmU0Y7NX1MY6MhCvriqGuDR/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfu0OiyAX4msR5MKOFnBs9qBI9cJPKljndnThs9y5ChdzzOalK-pfQBSF_-ylgz4E8gu61SbuGbMBft41PVUeM-byWV8h9vnRgtG5wTrvlAkDyiLu9svC2lmU0Y7NX1MY6MhCvriqGuDR/s400/017.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ah, hello big, loopy pen(cil)menship, you old friend.</td></tr>
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<b><u>Fiction honorable mentions: the best and the worst:</u></b><br />
<br />
<b>"An Untitled Story set in the 'beautiful mountains of Lur'":</b><br />
Here is an adventure tale about <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"friendship, bravery, and their rewards,"</span> starring a young, big-dreaming peacock named Farel, and his friends Skipper the otter, pheasant Spring, and badger Starling on a quest to prove themselves by rescuing a young foxed named Reese from the evil clutches of the local wood witch, an <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"ugly, dirty beast with red eyes and a crown of bones"</span> named Velga. Along the way they help Potter, a frustrated bear cub retrieve a beehive, then devise a keen rescue plan <i>clearly</i> influenced by the Dorothy-rescue-scene in <i>Wizard of Oz</i>. Upon escaping, the friends run <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"all day and into the next without stopping or ever looking back".</span> Naturally, a very annoyed Velga catches up eventually, but is ultimately thwarted by Potter's gang of bears, returning that earlier favor with the honey. And so one hand washes the other. The story veers into <i>Just-So</i> territory at the end, when the brave companions are rewarded with gifts like <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"a lovely white stripe down the back," "sharp white teeth,"</span> silky fur, sharp claws, yadda yadda, and, for Farel, <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"incredibly wonderful looking tail feathers that spread out. Annnnd a sharp beak."</span> If that doesn't describe a modern-day peacock I don't know what does. Incidentally, my teacher asked that I read this little gem out loud to the class, though I have no recollection if I ever did, as I would have likely blocked out such a public-speaking event if I managed not to faint in the first place.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>"Stone into Gold"</b><br />
A heart-warming, if not cliched, tale about Draken the alchemist and his (male) apprentice Sarise. I have since wondered if there is a Johnny Cash-like song playing on the radio stations of Lur entitled <i>Boy Named Sarise</i>. Yeah, super manly. Anyway, naturally the pair's objective is to get paid, and it seems Sarise keeps messing up the secret gold-making recipe by adding too many drops of the golden frog's spit. The story features typical teen angst: "<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">...at least there is something I can do,"</span> Sarise mumbles as he goes falconing for dinner, probably kicking a dandelion on his way out the door. When the boy returns in triumph with <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"three scrawny rabbits and a few field mice,"</span> there are culinary delights to be had: <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"While Sarise was out, Draken collected an assortment of <i>magic herbs.</i> (Though they were not truly magic, he had nicknamed them that because when mixed with oil, then rubbed on to meat it gave an irresistible flavor that tasted as if a magic spell had been cast on it.)" </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Move over Wolfgang, we've got herbed-oil on field mouse! Prepare to have your tiny mind blown. And because I liked a success story, you can rest assured that by the end young Sarise was clutching a small lump of gold in a victorious hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>"The Eclipse"</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A cautionary tale about the dangers of dabbling with drugs. DRUGS! I think this may have been my singular attempt at a genre other than fantasy. Alright, I co-wrote this story with my best friend Annie at the height of the anti-drug-barrage that was shoved down every elementary and middle schooler's throat in the 80s/90s cusp years. I confess that this particular story is not in my writing journal as I believe we wrote it in Annie's book, but I felt the need to mention it nonetheless. A group of friends try to stage an intervention when one of them finds </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"bags of drugs, including cocaine!"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> in her now ornery and despondent friend's locker. The reader will find herself on the edge of her seat as we ratchet up the suspense. Alas, the tale remains unfinished. Perhaps things just got too real.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>"A Night's Howl"</b><br />
The classic eleven page, two part saga about a pack of wolves, <i>heavily</i> influenced by my obsession with the wolf-riding-badass-forest-elves featured in my favorite comic book, <i>Elfquest</i>. Part one is a daring tale of rescue and vengeance. An evil human tribe has captured, and are on the verge of sacrificing, Quickpaw when his girlfriend and pack-mates storm in to save him. <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"The wolves caught the humans by surprise. Silk-ear let out a thundering howl and slayed two of the men in a fury."</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the end they save Quickpaw amidst a bloodbath and conveniently take him to the pack's healer. When he is well enough to be reprimanded, the chief lectures him on the dangers of hunting alone. Strangely, the story then veers with an inexplicable </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"two months later"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> segue into a totally different plot line. A romance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxN7oDbQ9syZl8X9BN1V8pL6ozx3lWaaKbezEc7qk4eG8KATf6PyMvtPe8oE3ud8PFOANCrTp9Exl3bmKbdv-cwbWTyElv7i63F2QaYiC7oZEILvUSjoEqiNbxnIZyjNPAMr2y2RNjprK/s1600/elfquest_cast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoxN7oDbQ9syZl8X9BN1V8pL6ozx3lWaaKbezEc7qk4eG8KATf6PyMvtPe8oE3ud8PFOANCrTp9Exl3bmKbdv-cwbWTyElv7i63F2QaYiC7oZEILvUSjoEqiNbxnIZyjNPAMr2y2RNjprK/s320/elfquest_cast.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wendy and Richard Pini, we salute you!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"She had perky and aware ears, lovely, large eyes, a silky tail, and a graceful paws. She was slim, but muscular." </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Woo! Hot stuff! The unexpected romance between orphaned loner Moondancer and pack Lothario, Starjumper ignites the page as it brightly, if not painfully, illuminates my young brain's deepest desires. Naturally there is a bit of confusion amidst the hunting, pack introductions, and </span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"festival of the seasons"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> dance invitation, but all ends well as the pair ultimately become life-mates, (canid equivalent of married with babies). </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">''...Since the two were both fascinated by the sky, especially the stars, they spent most nights on a large hill together, star-gazing..."</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I mean, they were named <i>Starjumper</i> and <i>Moondancer</i>.</span><br />
<br />
I then essentially re-told nearly the same story with elf characters, in what I now clearly see as straight-up <i>fanfic</i>, though at the time I had no idea such a thing existed. Here again we witness the first encounter between orphaned loner Stardrop (who had been living in a cave with her wolf friend for God knows how long) and pack Lothario, Skywise. Ahem. Here's some soul-bearing: What you have to understand is that for several years (and arguably yet today) I wanted to be a wolf-riding, bow-shooting, leather-wearing, tree-climbing, human-killing, telepathic, sexy forest elf. I'd stop at the comic shop on the way home from school and stare lovingly at the <i>Elfquest</i> books on the shelf, almost afraid to touch them until I'd saved up the twenty dollars to bring the latest one home with me. Because these elves had only four fingers, I would actually tape my pinky under my hand to see what I would like with elf hands. I spent hours sketching out my intended outfits made of soft, tanned hides. I mean, I had it bad. Stargazing bachelor Skywise is an actual character in <i>Elquest,</i> and in the great fantasyland of my young mind, I wanted to be the object of his affection. Namely, a beautiful, mysterious, elf named Stardrop. I needed to create a story to arrange their introductions, and so I did.<br />
<br />
My sappy yet earnest story ends with a <span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">to be continued...</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">and reading it again, so many years later, I couldn't help but wonder what those crazy elves were up to these days. Because you know, I actually do <i>miss</i> them. And in the end, that is the great power of fiction. Whether you're reading it or writing it, it allows you to suspend your disbelief, flex your imagination, slip into the skin of a wolf, or peacock, or unfortunately named apprentice. In paging through this old writing journal its like I am actually witnessing my personality form. Though I was a cautious and shy kid, I think I must have felt fairly fearless when writing. I didn't worry what anyone else thought, I wrote for myself, freely. It opened my mind up. Rediscovering this has been a gift. Okay, a slightly embarrassing one.</span><br />
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-59337559571595558662012-09-24T07:34:00.000-07:002012-10-06T12:52:26.417-07:00No Cornhuskers HereMy review in the September/October issue of <i>Orion</i> magazine.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.uiowapress.org/sites/uiowapress.org/files/images/Johnson_web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Johnson_web.jpg" border="0" height="320" src="http://www.uiowapress.org/sites/uiowapress.org/files/images/Johnson_web.jpg" width="198" /></a>Trespasses<br />
By Lacy Johnson<br />
University of Iowa Press, 2012.<br />
$19.95, 139 pages.<br />
<br />
<i>Cornhusker. Cletus. Hillbilly. Honky. Redneck. White Trash</i>. “We are not that,” says Lacy Johnson’s unconventional memoir <i>Trespasses</i>, which documents how race, gender, and class shape collective identity<br />
in the rural Midwest. The book reads as a family diary might — a braided series of poignant vignettes woven together with the thread of place. Johnson’s tone, technique, and voice vary with each microchapter<br />
as she shuffles between subjects, jumping back and forth in time, momentarily pausing to shine a light here or there between three generations and two families. Her prose is languid and poetic, half memory, half dream. If the book had a soundtrack it would be one of rural ambiance — cicadas, lawn mowers, tractors flexing in mud, the soft whir of a metal fan, the creak of a floorboard underfoot.<br />
Johnson wants to tell us the story of her family, a people who’ve spent the last 180 years in a single small Missouri county; but during a series of family interviews she finds at a certain point that “the facts got in the way of the truth.” Getting answers was difficult. “The silence can’t be broken. Or it can be broken, but not by asking questions. Not by asking them again in a different way. Not by telling stories about galvanized tubs, or blackberries growing wild along the fence line, or a bridge in the forest made entirely of fallen trees.” And so rather than merely chronicle, Johnson begins to shape-shift. By inhabiting the lives of her parents and grandparents, she lives into their experiences, trying to make sense of the impact a single day or moment can have on a family’s memory.<br />
Johnson speaks to being marginalized as a poor, rural, white person — a “marked, racial, and degraded form of whiteness”— white trash. Growing up, Johnson wore homemade clothing. She knew she was poor, but she didn’t think of her family as being trashy in any way. Readers will agree. The people she depicts are hardworking, resourceful, and often unknowingly poetic. (Poetic too, that her roots are deep in Missouri, a state struck by its own identity crisis when the Civil War literally split it in two.) But Johnson’s own view was, and to a large extent still is, inconsistent with how others saw her. Even after earning a PhD and losing her accent, Johnson still struggles with determining who she is and where she belongs when a woman in the checkout line “who could be [her] grandmother” eyes her tattoos and pregnant belly, and mutters trash under her breath. Johnson wrote this book to help reconcile her own identity, for herself and for her children.<br />
“You know, we can never start with a blank slate,” her new (and first) black friend confesses. “You and I can never start from scratch.” She is of course referring to a racial barrier, but <i>Trespasses</i> itself is a testament to how that statement is truly universal. The author has internalized her own genetic memory, childhood, and socioeconomic mark just as her parents have before her, just as the reader has, and all instincts and judgments are in part informed by this collective memory. No one ever truly gets a clean slate. You’d best make sense of where you came from. Johnson knows this, and succeeds.<br />
<i> — Kathleen Yale</i>Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-86239053594049504092012-09-19T19:17:00.000-07:002012-10-06T12:52:53.370-07:00Mo Chuisle<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGEelGU1QqrALqAfsTd7quXw2e0fq4vwivC6IAEr6kpT3nkbWvICiDOKpJGwtdf6tuzGUvVX3ObvnrbY9_w97isM9YPGIlqI9WBZPJmGTH1MBKqT7zjnFeU42owIRiL2nVhhrvQyajmNQ/s1600/fam1135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGEelGU1QqrALqAfsTd7quXw2e0fq4vwivC6IAEr6kpT3nkbWvICiDOKpJGwtdf6tuzGUvVX3ObvnrbY9_w97isM9YPGIlqI9WBZPJmGTH1MBKqT7zjnFeU42owIRiL2nVhhrvQyajmNQ/s320/fam1135.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May his pursuit of happiness never end</td></tr>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i> This Sky </i> </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This</div>
<div>
sky</div>
<div>
where we live</div>
<div>
is no place to lose your wings</div>
<div>
So love, love</div>
<div>
Love.</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i> --Hafiz</i></div>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></i></div>
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</div>
<div>
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></i></div>
It has been a really long week.<br />
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Without going into too many personal details, I'll just say that it began with a wedding of some dear friends, and ended with my uncle's unexpected funeral. And from the highest joy to the deepest sorrow, I have been surrounded, literally swarmed, engulfed, and enveloped by the warm, steady, murmuring, kinetic, complicated embrace that is family--<i>both the given and the chosen.</i> With never more than an hour to myself, I have spent the week encamped in various hotel rooms and yards, in various states, laughing, drinking, dancing, sharing, holding, grieving, weeping, remembering, and loving with these beautiful people.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This morning, alone again after so many goodbyes, through the buzz and bustle of more airports, I kept thinking I heard the voices of my family in the crowd. At first this was unnerving, in my under-caffeinated haze of utter exhaustion, but eventually those lingering echoes became a comfort--as if I were a child again, falling asleep to the sound of laughter in another room, carried into another place by the security of those murmurs and the certainty of unconditional love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All this is to say, in your heart or in your arms, hold them close, your kin and kindred. </div>
<div>
Life is short, but it can be so, so good.</div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-24445850817039937582012-09-12T21:01:00.000-07:002012-10-06T12:53:15.288-07:00Content A, Mechanics C<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_tO4mKyOroo7o8PrVFJMhboF74NtvRhXXEKD6oQmp_MZNd6VUk94ql5qKPF53ApRWlAMjoz1MNi3em17zWw2xYN5_bs94KaHHDXOYl8knePtmaGTOCufxf7eHDhG2b1TLKCO1mT9dkfj/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_tO4mKyOroo7o8PrVFJMhboF74NtvRhXXEKD6oQmp_MZNd6VUk94ql5qKPF53ApRWlAMjoz1MNi3em17zWw2xYN5_bs94KaHHDXOYl8knePtmaGTOCufxf7eHDhG2b1TLKCO1mT9dkfj/s320/052.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, here she is. Check it, there is even<br />
a unicorn on the cover. Wide-ruled, baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>Content A, Mechanics C</i> was pretty much the standard grade subtitle to all my early middle school writing assignments. Coming from Mrs. Boschulte and her perfectly coiffed shoulder-curl hairdo, this meant I had good style, but sucked at spelling and punctuation. Huh. I was recently reminded of this fact when I uncovered my fifth-grade creative writing notebook, in all its big, penciled cursive glory. Given that this was a legit class notebook, and I have been spared the horrors of revisiting my personal hide-under-the-mattress journal of said pre-adolescence, I thought I'd share some of the gestalt of young Katie. Weirdly, it seems I remain eerily the same...only now I get to do and think half of this stuff professionally. Okay, <i>semi-</i>professionally, like a casual Friday. I don't know if that means my soul settled early on, or that I'm just boring.<br />
<br />
<br />
<u><b>Non-fiction honorable mentions:</b></u><br />
<br />
<b>"What I am Thankful For"</b> <i>(Thanksgiving pre-game warm-up)</i><br />
Poetic Highlights:<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"I am thankful for the stars and the moon and the joy that rainbows and sunsets bring. I am thankful for the smell of autumn, for a burning fire, and for snow-covered trees. I say thank you for my dreams..."</span><br />
<br />
<b>"It's Not Just a Monster Anymore"</b> <i>(an essay about personal fear)</i><br />
Choice highlights:<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Now I am more afraid of things like war and nuclear missiles and powerful yet evil leaders (like Saddam Hussein.) I also fear poverty and pollution. Endangered animals are always on my mind, along with the destruction of the environment, ozone layer, ocean, etc..."</span><br />
<br />
<b>"Proud to be Fit"</b> <i>(in preparation for a visit from Arnold Schwarzenegger)</i><br />
Highlights include:<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"Exercise should be an important part of our lives, especially for over-weight people. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">If you are planning to start skiing, stretching, biking, dancing, swimming, jogging, walking, or aerobics, here's some advice. Start slow, don't over-work yourself at first, it can really give you a muscle ache."</span><br />
<br />
<b>"Autumn"</b><br />
High point:<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"The leaves have beautiful colors, their loveliness matches the dusty painted sunsets. Autumn feels cozy and comfortable, the earth seems so peaceful, like a baby sleeping in a bed or like a downy owlet."</span><br />
<br />
<b>The Main Event. This is my eleven-year-old self vibrating at her true frequency.</b><br />
An essay about<b> New Year's Resolutions </b>(with footnotes):<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">"In the past I have not made a New Year's resolution, but this year something came up<b>*</b>, (I was asked to write some resolutions of mine.) So here they are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">First I resolve to spend <i>more</i> quality time with my family. I believe that families and love from families are one of the greatest treasures on earth. Therefore I <i>will</i> extend my relationship with my family <i>further</i>.<b>**</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I will make it a point to take my interests and desires more seriously, such as spending time alone and letting my mind ponder in silence. Learning, thinking, and imaging about animals, stars, the ocean, trees, flowers, nature, unicorns, elves, trolls, etc... Do more quiet and relaxing things like for an example, reading a book under a tree in the cool shade.<b>***</b> I intend to absorb wildlife and its' ways silently.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I intend to begin to write more, and sketch pictures, then hopefully begin to write a book. In the time I'm writing the book I will be open to more ideas.<b>****</b> I shall study things that might prove useful topics in my book: animals, elves, unicorns, trolls, fairies, sprites, magic and such things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Those are my resolutions. Now just one question remains. Will I keep them? Well I'll tell you I will try with all my might!"</span><br />
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<b>* </b><i>It is as if even then I was rolling my eyes at the assignment. </i><br />
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<b>** </b><i>One might wonder what other things my fifth-grade self might have been doing other than mostly hanging out with family. My favorite part about this paragraph is when I move past the greeting card propaganda and consciously decide to renew the familial contract for another year.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>*** </b><i>Isn't this fantastic? I want to ponder. Alone. In silence. And when I've had my fill of that, I'll move on to more relaxing things, like book-reading in the shade, birdwatching, and knitting a death shroud. It sounds like I am planning on moving into a nursing home. Still, this is when I most love the young me. I want to hang out with this kid, stalk the local deer, pick berries, count stars and get weird.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>****</b><i> Really, I am totally open to any ideas you might have on troll genealogy, functional elf fashion, animal behavior, the physics of fairy flight, what exactly did happen to the unicorns. And such things.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But you know, all joking aside, that final question still remains, and it is kind of like the ghost of journal past is poking me in the ribs. Hard. She still needs to be reminded and encouraged to take her interests and desires more seriously sometimes. And it is both validating and unnerving how similar my resolutions today are to those written two decades ago. Well, minus the trolls.<br />
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-13793411081157836322012-09-10T11:19:00.002-07:002012-10-06T12:53:31.493-07:00Luis Alberto Urrea is Totally Rad<br />
<a href="http://www.hcn.org/issues/44.15/return-to-innocence-a-review-of-queen-of-america/QUEENofAMERICA.jpg/image" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.hcn.org/issues/44.15/return-to-innocence-a-review-of-queen-of-america/QUEENofAMERICA.jpg/image" width="259" /></span></a>Click <b><a href="http://www.hcn.org/issues/44.15/return-to-innocence-a-review-of-queen-of-america">here</a> </b>for my latest review in <i>High Country News</i>.<br />
<br />
Luis Alberto Urrea is, among other things, <i><b>Orion</b></i>'s newest columnist, and <i>Queen of America</i> is his follow-up to the most excellent <i>The Hummingbird's Daughter</i>.<br />
<br />
Preview his chops:<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">“For
she knew no connections but the most ethereal. She had learned that life on
earth was a dream, and not always a good one, and that the morning would come
and she would awaken into death and she would be among her lost ones and the
deer of the flower home and she would wonder what had happened to her and why
it had happened. And she knew that God would never answer her.”</span></i></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
Then read both books. And then get lunch. </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>“He
drooled like a dog when the chiles rellenos were searing on the flame, their
caustic smoke announcing them to the world, their fat bellies gurgling with
yellow cheese as they wore their egg-batter coats into the frying pan.”</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-76828402661283582772012-09-10T10:56:00.001-07:002012-10-06T12:53:58.294-07:00Hunting Season is Upon Us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTP86Np-KBkirZFe-BYC1UZx7jr7fGwGpEB6Hz8152ZQ2Y85fPD8owSq1DT9V_scN9BhkKz8ABZxhztYIRUltGSTsINMnfdi8qUiaqvfwUuDYfB5bUNXwnfoS-xvwHSP3bJNwzvvViK-23/s1600/katie+9.2012+219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTP86Np-KBkirZFe-BYC1UZx7jr7fGwGpEB6Hz8152ZQ2Y85fPD8owSq1DT9V_scN9BhkKz8ABZxhztYIRUltGSTsINMnfdi8qUiaqvfwUuDYfB5bUNXwnfoS-xvwHSP3bJNwzvvViK-23/s400/katie+9.2012+219.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-3608838583119704942012-08-14T09:43:00.000-07:002012-10-06T12:54:14.535-07:00A Natural History of NowHey! Got ten bucks burning a hole in your pocket? Enjoy nature? Like books?<br />
Then check this one out:<b><i> </i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i>A Natural History of Now: reports from the edge of nature</i></b> is a new collection of non-traditional nature-focused writing, hot off the presses. I am happy to see my essay <br />
"No Country" in such fine company.<br />
<br />
Order your copy from a local bookstore or <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Natural-History-Now-Reports-Nature/dp/0982783817">internet warehouse</a> today!<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.davidoates.info/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/NHN-frontL-194x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-657" height="400" src="http://www.davidoates.info/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/NHN-frontL-194x300.jpg" title="NHN-frontL" width="258" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><strong style="font-family: inherit;"> </strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong style="font-family: inherit;">“An underwater Christ, how to lasso a kittiwake, Egyptian
flies, bugling elk, a man who shoots poachers, vegetarians dismantling
pigs. . . Welcome to a book far removed from the orthodox bucolic,
mannered, and self-absorbed Nature Essay. These pieces are startling,
funny, piercing, and often unforgettable. My advice: buy this book, eat
it over the weekend, and then give it to someone who will dig it. Which
will be everyone.” </strong></span><br />
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<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><strong>– Brian Doyle, author of <em>Mink River</em></strong></span></div>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-1139675021628978022012-07-29T16:22:00.000-07:002012-10-06T12:54:43.817-07:00In Pictures<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVaZd-edi0KoLP-XCJNUG8SB_tXkzJvVWu6XTMqkuxsliahrKy5YLuzQBor-dqd05k6FtPHfm4wDc61EJAwTAoYkJEqUVq8PwiI5rU3XDtq9SoPHkUAgJiZ0VfHeuXdnXSnRHkQVnHhQ9/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVaZd-edi0KoLP-XCJNUG8SB_tXkzJvVWu6XTMqkuxsliahrKy5YLuzQBor-dqd05k6FtPHfm4wDc61EJAwTAoYkJEqUVq8PwiI5rU3XDtq9SoPHkUAgJiZ0VfHeuXdnXSnRHkQVnHhQ9/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+393.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salt addict. (Body, not bath.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChlXvqR0pAysMpKN-1-w0ZSpDwe2RYrymvIzxHQDDh_CcREWih1aiBEHkOCy9ifzH3UHN-v2FxWmVfLNDbYN1KClChDaV-oYWWNkKsjEZ8nLoNTihDvHZLlZrRNxPC96AYUj485Mdjqpy/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChlXvqR0pAysMpKN-1-w0ZSpDwe2RYrymvIzxHQDDh_CcREWih1aiBEHkOCy9ifzH3UHN-v2FxWmVfLNDbYN1KClChDaV-oYWWNkKsjEZ8nLoNTihDvHZLlZrRNxPC96AYUj485Mdjqpy/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+406.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dutch Lake: For bears only.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6xFMF1-od3Ln537o8sZL7qUxhC6b7lG6_9aR82I_h7cehKg_o9SvwudCJr4N4SS7tw-_4V3smzxx_YTjdbalfEmc3wYyAduFehDHPwWf3NfmJj0hpWnTQr1nHdWPTuYTKhnE7gE0XXfF/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6xFMF1-od3Ln537o8sZL7qUxhC6b7lG6_9aR82I_h7cehKg_o9SvwudCJr4N4SS7tw-_4V3smzxx_YTjdbalfEmc3wYyAduFehDHPwWf3NfmJj0hpWnTQr1nHdWPTuYTKhnE7gE0XXfF/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+401.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evidence of a rub down.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaIbYhkidXvw9AvlskjJ36TUovcyOzkFzSQV6QsCcJRPmHho6WXE-XtTJ6Ew2r6ey6X5kTvkvSm6_P7SRJZyBWFlcdtLSBf9nC5uiC4x61esGZUFCa4k8eoo2luEokff7ns8J2Mu-1gsa/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaIbYhkidXvw9AvlskjJ36TUovcyOzkFzSQV6QsCcJRPmHho6WXE-XtTJ6Ew2r6ey6X5kTvkvSm6_P7SRJZyBWFlcdtLSBf9nC5uiC4x61esGZUFCa4k8eoo2luEokff7ns8J2Mu-1gsa/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+429.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Huxtables.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vnP-h9Png2a2Vu9QhFYHew-KDeDO-EnGxR_YdKFCuYkZ2jpakHtOBB62ljZMoJiW8LqZpdRfAYfH5SKR2PJRxedhAXWZTkPIo2c_CEF3GbXVc5pngKOFzIrSJbmUcwPJDJKIjoo7-h0D/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vnP-h9Png2a2Vu9QhFYHew-KDeDO-EnGxR_YdKFCuYkZ2jpakHtOBB62ljZMoJiW8LqZpdRfAYfH5SKR2PJRxedhAXWZTkPIo2c_CEF3GbXVc5pngKOFzIrSJbmUcwPJDJKIjoo7-h0D/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+382.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Considerably more chill than their parents.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3RGEroKbXj9Xtha_JVe5bbDdbq3CRx26lq48NHwhcKmzio8ndCWqB33JT0T-VKDmI4tJKjhDaMf-Ibw_wVzgB2td_c2ovHE1_UAECMEQ8cNM70sibXiqlWYdKpUuwfHDuQ0bSG2NENK/s1600/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3RGEroKbXj9Xtha_JVe5bbDdbq3CRx26lq48NHwhcKmzio8ndCWqB33JT0T-VKDmI4tJKjhDaMf-Ibw_wVzgB2td_c2ovHE1_UAECMEQ8cNM70sibXiqlWYdKpUuwfHDuQ0bSG2NENK/s400/2012+Glacier+Summer+1+417.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shale-om.</td></tr>
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<br />Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2452860891161809696.post-31608917700751527792012-07-29T16:01:00.001-07:002012-10-06T12:55:09.192-07:00Third Hitch Redux<div>
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Trail Creek. Sun. Hot, hot, heat. How level does the round really have to be to safely change a flat tire? Late start. Solo hike. Ridges and ridges, climbs and descents. Grouse chicks. Haiku. Hello little hares. Trio of salt-crazed fuzzy fiends in white high-tops. Kindly release my sweaty shirt. And that sock. And the water bottle, too. But there is room in my sleeping bag if you're interested in a cuddle. Up, up, up. Down, down, down. More water, more sunscreen, more pee breaks. Hello fat toad. So nice to see you again. Such a fine white etching down your bumpy back. Then thunder! Lightning! Rain and rain. Dinner cooked under cover of an outhouse foyer. I mean, that isn't <i>so </i>unsanitary, right? Just, hey! Don't let that touch the ground. At all.<br />
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<div>
Oh, Dutch. They laughed at me in the permit office. <i>Why would you want to go up there? </i>Your trail has officially been wiped off the map, but how the bears adore you. Fresh clumps of fur, swaying in the breeze, decorating every barb. Miniature incarnations. Great flood zones of flattened grasses, huge logs tossed up in loose-root tangles. Silver snags make the best bridges over waters troubled and calm. Bushwhacking through false azalea is like combing through skunk hair. Slip and fall, slip and fall. Five by ten feet is just enough of a patch for one small tent. Hammocks need no even ground. Large beasts wade through lake waters at night, waves lapping against ankles and shoreline. The flash bulbs of lightning, if we're being honest, do add a creepy onus as you peak out and look toward watery footfalls.<br />
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Park Creek. Long days. Many miles. And hair and hair and hair. And oh hey, bear. Good bear. Yes, we hear your huffing, no need to charge. Mountain called Rampage. Mountain called Church. A small cabin in an open meadow. Dinner in the dark. Old striped mattresses sag gently on loose springs. Every roll marked with a metallic whine. Is this a new backpack or a torture device? How much can a hipbone swell before their is true cause for alarm? A forgotten trail. So many downed trees, so many ankle-grabbers, so many stumbles and shin-smacks and flying forward falls, and where's the trail again? Are bruises contagious? Hello, big grizzly, don't mind us. Just passing through on the way to.... helloooooo huckleberries! Patches and patches and patches. Fat, shiny purple-black. Small, dusky blue. Two-handed gathering. Hunched backs, fingers and lips stained with juice, one for now, one for later. Nom nom nom. Can't. Stop. Gathering.<br />
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Home again. Dirty and smelly, salt rings expanding. Bruises darkening. Shower and eat. Eat again. Locate bell bottoms. Locate sequins. Its disco time. Night Fever. That DJ, the one with the fake Afro, he will tell you that there are no disco-era Michael Jackson songs. But if you are persistent, and if you are a lady, he will play one for you anyway. You may ask him up to six times. He will do it every time. You are all powerful. Tonight, you are fate itself.</div>
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Katie Yalehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07340726823500617071noreply@blogger.com1