The Middle Finger

The national call for impeachment protest was held yesterday, Saturday, June 15th, maybe in honor of the Dump's birthday.

"Happy Birthday, Asshole! 

You're FIRED!"

We had maybe 100 people at the one I attended. We marched with our signs and bullhorns up to a busy round-about intersection and waved and smiled at everyone.  Drivers honked, waved, gave thumbs up, and hung out their windows and cheered us on. It was such a happy event.

Well...for most. A very small percent of the drivers remained stone-faced, staring straight forward like they couldn't see us. I wondered if they were worried they'd get in a fender-bender from all the distraction, but I think more likely Trumptards. A smaller percentage gave us thumbs down or shook their heads. This only motivated us to cheer louder and wave harder. We ARE a happy bunch.

One person with signs on her car drove down the street, around the block, through the round-about again and again and again giving us the thumbs down with patriotic music blaring as an expression of her opposition. It was kind of funny.

"Oh, here she comes again!" And we'd all start cheering louder, waving harder, and smiling bigger.

One long-haired, white-headed, bushy-bearded, cowboy hat-wearing, old fart in a gigantic, gas-guzzling bright red pick up flipped us off and held it for the duration of his painful drive past the line of protesters. That was the highlight of my day. That made me feel like I made a difference, that all our noise was heard. I did worry he might have a gun. He looked like a brainless, gun-toting, single-minded conservative who mocks authority, discriminates against anyone not like him, and disrespects women, much like his leader. I shared with those around me if we see his bright red truck coming around again we should dive for cover. He didn't return.

It was a glorious day.

Oh, I got lots of complements on my signs. A couple people said, "Are you the one with the painted umbrellas?" I've made a name for myself in the protest community.

I am proud. I am Democrat. Hear me roar.

This sign wins the award for the day. I didn't quite understand it, but I liked her panache or just bold, flagrant use of the term "blow job" out in public. I laughed and then wondered, why would giving Dump a blow job allows us to impeach? Obviously others were as confused because she added the names Mitch and Lindsay to the side - ah ha! This is directed to the Republicans who continue to allow the bad behavior of this presidunce pig.

Life is Short

Kelly McGarry, famous competitive mountain bike rider, died. He was only 33 years old. Life is short. For many, REALLY short. Too short.

Although this has very little to do with chemical sensitivity, it reminded me we need to appreciate each day as it comes even if we are not feeling up to speed or downright miserable. It reminded me to be cognitive of each moment. No matter how our life presents itself, it'll go by fast regardless.

In my former life I used to ride a mountain bike. I was never really very good at it. My first experience was with people who promised they would take us on a beginner trail. I say "us" because I was with two other beginners, my good friend and his adult daughter. The trail was anything but beginning...or maybe it was, but it was absolutely frightening with sand pits, cliffs, ledges, and poisonous snakes. For snake encounters - big, fat rattlesnakes lying in the sun across the trail - we were instructed to ride very fast so the snake wouldn't know what hit him and by the time the snake figured it out, we'd be gone. Hmmm... 

After a least an hour of horrifying torture and physical exhaustion, my friend's daughter ended up crashing in the middle of the desert. Miles away from civilization. She was so pissed off with our "trainers" and the experience she refused to get back on the bike and started walking. Or rather hobbling defiantly. Someone had to wheel her bike behind her. I survived, but not without too many bruises and a whole lot of pain that took a long time to heal. After that experience, I became far more selective of mountain biker companions. With time I got better at it, but I found it more fun to go to the competitions and watch the professionals sail effortlessly over the trails that nearly killed me. 

Anyway, just reminiscing about year's past and my former life. For those of you with energy, mountain biking would be a fairly non-toxic outdoor activity, but it's not without risks. Death being one of them.

Here is video footage of Kelly McGarry. The camera is on his helmet and he does a few flips at the Red Bull Rampage. And he won SECOND place (you can see where he misses the trail at one point). Whoa! It's totally frightening.

Hooray for Fair Day!

I went to the fair last week with my best friend from high school. We both grew up in the neighboring town, but since neither of us had attended this event for years, we thought it would be a fun, nostalgic outing and worth driving over two hours for the experience.

We saw warehouse buildings full of salespeople, farm animals, carnival rides, and JUNK FOOD. Where did all that junk food come from? In the "old days" there were onion burgers, scones, ice cream, French fries and cotton candy. These were foods we waited to eat once a year. We were living dangerously.

Times have changed. I saw every manner of junk food a person could imagine and some unimaginable, booths of various poisons lined up and down the walkways with long lines of eager consumers.

There was even a "History of Candy" tent for the sole purpose of advertising the wonders of candy. I toured it. Lots of videos on candy production. Displays and photos of history. The propaganda was scary, like a bad movie. It made the viewer want to run to the nearest junk food booth and gorge on some candy. No mention of how it will rot your teeth, make you obese, and contribute to any number of diseases as it rots you from the inside out. I stayed for about five minutes before I realized the tent smelled like chocolate. CHOCOLATE? It took me a minute, then I looked around. There wasn't any chocolate in the tent to be bought or eaten! AIR FRESHENERS! I panicked and ran for the nearest exit! It's amazing how subtle it was, but enough to scare the life out of me.

The absolutely worse food booth was the one called TOTALLY FRIED where they deep fry anything that might be edible, or in my case, not edible. There was a t-shirt one could buy to advertise these bad dietary habits: "If They Fry It, I Will Try It". I was tempted to buy it. Here is a photo my friend took although, unfortunately, she didn't get the whole booth:

Please notice the bottom of the menu list:

SPAM AND VELVEETA CORN DOGS

 

almost as bad as

 

DEEP FRIED PEANUT BUTTER AND JAM

 

or

 

Deep Fried Snickers

 

 

Really? Why would anyone want to eat that?  I am so sheltered in my healthy, secluded lifestyle that I forget there are people out there who eat like this on a daily basis. It amazes me there were lines for these food booths and people walking around gorging on large tubs of twice-fried junk food.

 

It was like a trip to Hell...

 

 

I purposely word my posts so I can find ways to use my devils as illustrations.
They bring me much joy.

 

 

And then there were the little piglets that reminded me everything was right in the world:

 

 

 

It was fun, interesting, educational, shocking, and mostly outdoors in somewhat fresh air. Even with the candy tent poisoning, some perfume exposure, and eating ice cream from the dairy barn (!), I survived with little if any health consequences.

 

Hooray for Fair Day!



Humanity Overload

Saturday I went to the Fremont Solstice Fair, or what I like to call The Naked Festival. I've always wanted to go and see naked people riding bikes, the crafts, and the Art Car Show. It's outdoors and fresh air is a really good thing for events that attract the masses. As you can see from the photo below, masses is an understatement.

 

 

Waiting for the parade to start....

I went with a friend who was saturated in smelly laundry detergent. I know she tried really hard to be fragrance-free and I sacrificed my health in order not to make her feel self-conscious. I know that was stupid, but I didn't have too much reaction: respiratory system burning and uncontrollable coughing. I tried keeping the growing irritability under control and ended up exhausted and in pain all night with the exhaustion lasting for days. I only encountered one truly toxic smelly person that made me dash so I say it was a good day.

I enjoy seeing naked people riding bikes. Most of them were painted so although the photo below looks like they have clothes or costumes on, most of it is painted on to look like clothing.

Others didn't even bother with paint, or very little of it:

The Art Car Show was fun and needless to say, it made me want to run home and decorate my van!

Dots...and dots...and dots...I really loved this car!

Shoes! Lots of shoes!

Flamingo themed!

Awesome paint job!

Another awesome paint job!

Love the colors on this one! Is that my favorite color teal?

HAPPY SOLSTICE!

The Beach That Was...

There are too many undesirable dogs in my neighborhood that make walking anything but pleasurable so I've been going to the beach more often than usual. It's very peaceful at the ocean especially when no one is there. The air is so refreshing and clean. Lately I've been arriving right when the tide is at its highest. There have been days the waves are so violent and the water rushing so madly about, I turn right around and head back home. This was one of those days.

See that wave coming toward me in the above photo? It doesn't look that ominous in this photo but it was at least two feet high, moving at least twenty miles and hour, and coming from the side before I realized it. I literally started running for my life.

With all the "Unstable Sand" warning signs, and the water clear up to the roads in some places, I wasn't going to take any chances.

The next day I arrived again at high tide and noticed the cove with all the destroyed houses had waves crashing right up to the trees cutting off all access to the rest of the beach. I wondered what damage all this bad weather had done since last spring when I took the last photos. Did the yellow house bite the dust (sand)? Was it still standing? Today, however, I checked the tide levels before I left and went when the water would be at its lowest.

This might be what's left of the yellow house. I can't really tell. It has some yellow on it?

Or this?

Hmmm...maybe this?

This is interesting. I'm counting 17 of these giant tires and I assume someone must have owned a semi-truck with 18 wheels? These are scattered all over. Along with other car parts and vehicle accessories that must have dropped off when the ground gave away.

It makes me wonder how this affects the environment. It doesn't look like anyone made much of an effort to take away their belongings and garbage. I don't know if any of these people have received money for all this damage or if it's just considered a natural phenomenon (tough luck), but you'd think someone would attempt to protect the environment by having these houses, garages, sheds and their contents removed before they take the plunge. That's a lot of garbage floating around and lying all over.

Granted, if I were one of these home owners and just lost everything, I wouldn't want to also be responsible for the money or effort it would take to remove it. Maybe these people can't afford it? There was one guy with a pick-up scavenging for building materials. As I mentioned before, there is an artist in town who creates art from the house wood from this beach. I wonder what the legalities of this are? If the house falls off the cliff, don't the owners still own it? Can people just take it or do they need permission?

Next to take the dive:

 

 

There are a lot of campers and trailers along this area. I assume these are the owners of the homes prepared with alternative living arrangements for as long as some land is left. Do they just drive away when there is no place to park?

 

 

 

 

 

This guy is determined to protect his house and he's out there rearranging his rock moat with big machinery. How many people can say they have a rock moat protecting their house? Does he have to rearrange after every high tide?  Is it working? I've seen the waves crashing. I wouldn't want to be in that little house during high tide!

 

 

 

It looks like he's the only one left on his original property jutting way out from the eroding beach far out beyond what is left of land with water almost totally surrounding him.

 

See him on the end of the point to the right?

 

Will his house end up being on a tiny island? With such a tiny house, is all this work and expense worth it? Wouldn't it be more cost effective to just move the house? Maybe he can't? Or maybe he's just stubborn and thinks he can win fighting Mother Nature?

 

And if I thought all this wasn't crazy enough, I look to my right and there is a guy surfing in freezing water!

 

 

 I am very grateful to live near the ocean, but not so close that it will take my house away. Yet. Who knows when the next tsunami will be? 

Ocean Treasures

 

Lots of nice shells on the beach today.

Beach Front Property. No Thank You!

I'm doing my best to offgas the new heaters in my house so this morning I turned them on and left for a walk on the beach. Beautiful day. Sunny, but cool. The ocean was gorgeous.

This is the same beach I dig for clams so in the last year I've gotten to know it well. However, it changes constantly. The land has been eroding away for years with houses falling into the ocean every now and then. There is an artist in the area who collects old house wood from this area and makes decorative signs with it. I know of one person who's land is now IN the ocean. He probably could petition the city or county so he doesn't have to pay taxes, but he likes owning ocean. Taxes are only $1 per year. Not sure why they bother.

During this walk I noticed a lot of trees on the beach up ahead. I didn't remember trees when I was here last week so I thought I should go explore.

 

 

Yep, more of the land is being eaten by the waves and the trees on the shore are falling into the water. Big healthy deciduous trees and pine trees with huge roots that could not hold onto the ocean-soaked earth any longer. How sad.

 



Last week, this little building was up on land! I remember thinking it had lots of room, but might not still be standing a year from now. It was either a garage or large garden shed, maybe a small cottage. It's now toast. How scary is that?

This foundation hangs over the ledge waiting for the next high tide and large wave.

 

Houses precariously close to the ledge...that little yellow house only has about ten more feet to go before taking the dive. I doubt if the owners can even sell them and their only option is to wait until the water gets too close for comfort and abandon everything. It makes me wonder about the other houses down the beach that seem to be situated back far enough from the water. Are they at risk, too? Eventually will they end up in the ocean?

 

Can you imagine buying beach front property, building a house, and then slowly watch it destroyed by nature? I wonder what options the owners have? Could they bring in lots of boulders and build some kind of protective wall? Or would the waves destroy it anyway? Maybe it's too costly or the property values aren't worth it? There are warning signs all over stating the sand is unstable and to stay out of the water. People ignorantly ignore these signs and attempt to drive their little foreign cars on the beach. They get stuck in the sand all the time. People don't know how to read...I just laugh.

 

Arrived home a few hours later and the heaters are doing much better. The air still makes my sinuses burn a little, but my heater-induced symptoms are going away. I'm still angry about letting those electricians install cheap heaters I did not want. What was I thinking?

Clam Digging

I only look annoyed because
I haven't caught any clams yet.

It wasn't difficult for my friend to talk me into a clamming license this year, even though I only used last year's license twice. Last year was butter clams and I have to say, although it was a new and exciting thing to do, not nearly as fun and exciting as digging for razor clams! Razor clams run! Or rather, attempt to dig themselves to safety so there is much more challenge and skill involved.

I haven't gone razor clam digging since I was very young. My grandmother was incredibly fast, strong and skilled at clam digging much more so than my grandfather so I have fond memories of gender pride. We used to help by identifying the "shows" so they knew where to dig, but we were too small to dig fast enough to catch one.

My friend has a clam "gun." It's not really a gun, but a tube that digs into the sand and can pull up massive amounts of sand out of a hole, hopefully along with the clam. So fun. There is a technique to it that I mastered in no time, but hauling wet sand out of a hole is exhausting. We've gone twice and both times shared his clam gun which gives my shoulders, knees and back a break. It takes some practice to get strong.

The first time I didn't even get my limit so I gave them all to my friend. The second time I didn't either, and he gave all his to me. My friend taught me how to clean them. I didn't like this part. It's like murdering small, helpless animals, even though they don't have eyes and sweet expressions. But they sure taste good! I hadn't eaten clams for years! Sorry to say, they aren't on the Hashimoto's diet as shellfish are considered toxic, but it's part of the local culture so I'm cheating. And these are as fresh as you can get rather than canned.

 

Today I bought my own clam gun! I'm so proud. I feel "official." Other tools and supplies are: clam digging license, bucket or clam net for carrying the catch, flashlight, headlight or lantern, really warm clothes and lots of layers, rain gear, gloves for warmth and plastic gloves to keep your hands dry, and water-proof boots.

Clamming equipment (left to right): lantern, bucket, net, license,
clam gun, gloves, rubber boots

This time of the year it can be very cold and wet so it pays to stay warm and dry. Low tide is often right at dusk and the best digging is after dark. When clam season opened a few weeks ago, I had never seen so many people on the beach at one time.

The first time we went I didn't have boots as my old ones were worn and no longer water proof. No boots means you don't have the luxury of wading in ice cold water and you constantly having to be aware of the waves unless you want to be soaked and freezing. This was a pain and made me not only ineffective, but not even helpful. Before the second dig, I bought some cheap boots at the local hardware store, but they were made with PVC so as soon as I got them in the car I couldn't breathe. I know PVC is deadly, but I figured I would get them home fast and let them offgas on the porch. I didn't even get out of the parking lot before I turned around and I returned them immediately all the while gasping for air. I know better! I got online and found 100% rubber boots at Cabela's, the store for all things outdoorsy or what I like to call the hunter's vortex complete with dead animal displays. Most of their products are made in the USA so I was very happy to spend twice as much for these boots in comparison to the cheap, toxic, Chinese-made boots. Good boots make all the difference and last twice as long. These boots still need to offgas out on the porch, but rubber isn't nearly as toxic as the PVC.

Third time, I went alone. I looked forward to it all week so when the rain started pouring and the wind blowing, did that stop me? No way! The great thing about bad weather is there aren't as many people. I finally got my limit of 15 and did it all before it got dark! Then this really cute Fish and Wildlife Officer pulled up beside me when I was walking back and asked how I did. He didn't want to count my clams, but I would have gladly showed them off. As we were talking I kept thinking, Oh Lord, I hope I counted right because if he counts and I'm over, I might be going to jail!"

Most of them nice and big, but the first couple I butchered
until I got the hang of it.

 

Ocean activities even during the cold of winter are not only invigorating, but also good for the respiratory tract. Any breathing difficulty or sinus congestion is quickly remedied with a good, clean ocean air activity. I look forward to these trips. I can breathe!



So fun! Excellent fragrance-free entertainment.

Berries, Bears, and Backwoods Folktales

 

 

I went wild blackberry picking today! This involves hiking up the logging roads into the hills way out in the middle of no where. Wild blackberries have a very short season and every year I miss them. This year I was prepared, but had no idea where to go and most locations are guarded secrets. I finally got some tips from locals.


It's scary being up in the woods alone! One of my neighbors told me of her encounter with a bear while picking blackberries. She doesn't go anymore. I'm more worried about bad men or ticks or snakes.

Every summer as a little girl my grandparents would take us blackberry picking. Each year as we hiked up the hills, over logs, through tall grass and stickers, running wild as children do without fear, we heard the story of our great, great uncle who when he was sixteen years old took his trusty dog with him hunting. Alone. He never came home. A year later they found his remains with his devoted dog still by his side. There was a stick through his eye. The legend has it he must have tripped, the stick went through his eye, and into his brain. Although they assured us he was killed instantly (maybe), I was more horrified about the dog, "How did the dog eat and stay alive for that long?" The lessons were not lost on us: never go up into the woods alone [or you'll end up like Uncle Teddy], watch where you are walking [or you'll end up like Uncle Teddy], and take a dog [so if you die like Uncle Teddy you have a trusty companion to keep you company until they find your body]. To this day every time I'm up in the woods alone, I think of that story. Every step I take, every stick that snaps, I think of Uncle Teddy.

Anyway, I hiked alone, sans dog, for miles. Never saw a bear or a bad man, never encountered a rogue stick, and actually found some berries! So peaceful and beautiful.

 

Wild blackberries are much smaller than the common evergreen blackberries so they aren't as easy to find. They are often on a slope or hill. One of my friends said her mountain-biking son saw them out on the trails, so when I came upon a very steep hill with bike tracks I decided to go up it. So steep I kept sliding. My greatest fear is I'd slide and drop my bucket of blackberries! I probably should have been more nervous about breaking an ankle, or encountering a stick through the eye.

The blackberries in the shade were much bigger than the tiny small-fingernail size of the others. I did find a few really nice ones, but because they are so elusive, I wasn't really picky. I believe they are organic since they are wild, but one can never assume safety. Since they were located up in forestry land, I don't know if the logging companies spray the trees.

 

Eventually I grew tired, but wondered, "When should I stop? How much is enough?" The measurement standard of blackberries is always "enough for a pie." Even though I can no longer eat pies [sob], I gathered nearly enough for a pie. Plus one perfect specimen of salmonberry.

I love the berry picking season! Friday the raspberry farm opens!

Yum!