Something is seriously wrong with you, boy . . .

After years of struggling on my own, dealing with the aftermath of unmatched freedom and competing ideas, I finally did it: I bought my own MacBook Pro and joined the Dark Side. And I have to say, I love it. A trackpad that actually works? A trackpad that provides useful navigation and input? What novel ideas! A UI that is stable, and programs that don’t mysteriously crash or include text that matches the background (I’m looking at YOU, VLC on LXDE!!!)? What a novel idea! Yes, I still love my various Linux laptops, but I think I’m stuck in the beauty and simplicity of the Mac world for a while now. I’d better be, now that I have the wireless trackpad, keyboard and number pad.

Spastic Avenger

Okay, I’m hiding this image before it gives my viewer (viewers?) siezures.

The Spastic Avenger Strikes Again!

So, California, or more precisely, Humboldt County, California: Majestic redwoods, foggy mornings and sunny afternoons, beautiful windswept beaches, and the mighty banana slug. I do not think I could give up the ocean again. Humboldt is beautiful, but suffers from a poor economic base and the high cost of California living. Everything from land to gas to milk to taxes is more expensive here, even though so many here are poor. Maybe if we weren’t paying $4.47 per gallon of gas, we would have more money for more important things, like cookies.

Idaho, or Coeur d’Alene anyway, is flat and cold and filled with people who believe the current President is a Kenyan Marxist Socialist Nazi Communist Manchurian Candidate (i.e. “the sheriff is near”). It is also quite affordable. And unlike Humboldt, Kootenai County has no shortage of doctors and great libraries. It may not have as many breweries as Humboldt, but it does have Trader Joe’s, Lowes, Home Depot and Spokane, WA nearby. I would sell my wife for a Trader Joe’s in my area (hey, TJ’s people, are you listening?) . . .

If I switch to driving a UEV and move the family into one of these, California might just match Idaho on the affordability front. Idaho will never match California on the oceanfront and banana slug front, however.

Stumbling around on a piece of ground in your home bar
Waiting for someone or something to blow you away . . .

Not only do I smell like goat, but some days I feel like him. Fortunately, the exhausted, vomiting girl-child lying on the couch behind me shows me that it could be worse.

It is Friday . . . what are you going to do? I am going to step out into the sunshine, walk to the beach, then come back and finish work. I need the sea, I need the sand, I need the breeze. I need to quit spending my work breaks listening to the best and brightest the GOP has to offer explaining why segregation is good, access to safe, affordable abortions (and health care in general) is bad, drunk driving is a treasured American way of life, and the President (you know, the secret commie muslim socialist nazi Kenyan) is creating his own private army, with socialisms and health care. Something I come away with is that perhaps we need some better ethics laws for our elected representatives. And that perhaps it is time to let the Republican party have what they want. Do these people really believe any of what they say, or is the idea to come up with the most outrageously stupid idea and see if they can get people to believe it? Surely it is time that the self-proclaimed Party of NO, the “cow on the tracks”, find somewhere that embraces their concept of religious law, child labor, no environmental or social protections and spirit of rugged (and short-lived) individualism. I hear Somalia is beautiful this time of year. And this will put them closer to all the good elephant murdering hunting grounds, so win-win!

Perhaps I am old and addled, but I thought that, at one point, there was something called a “fiscal conservative.” This mythical beast actually was supposed to believe in fiscal responsibility (which one would assume includes not starting wars and then giving everyone tax cuts specifically so that we could not pay for said wars) rather than focusing so much on uteruses, gays and the dreaded threat of socialist Kenyan muslim nazis. Yeah, I must be old and addled.

So anyway, happy damned Friday. Enjoy your day. And yes, we had another lamb at the end of March. This brings us to a total of nine for this year, seven in just last month. And at least one of the three remaining pregnant ewes looks like she is ready to pop at any moment. Of course, we’ve been saying that for a week now. By the time she DOES give birth, the lamb is going to be as large as she is. I am afraid the birth will look more like a very gruesome metamorphosis.

Incandescent Heaven

And with a crackle-pop, another compact fluorescent bulb explodes in a cloud of mercury and burning plastic. I get to air the house, clean up the mess and reflect on the differences between packaging (“bulbs last 10 years or more”) and reality (bulbs die a flaming, smelly death in a year or less). This probably explains the two year warranty on the ten year bulbs. Is it wrong of me to think the warranty should last as long as the bulb is expected to last? These bulbs are supposed to be built to strict energy efficiency guidelines. Hopefully some day they will be built to strict quality guidelines as well. I also hope that I have saved some money on electricity, because the yearly replacement of CF bulbs is definitely lightening my wallet. If I were less selfish, I would consider the amount of fossil fuels that weren’t burnt because I chose the CF route, both because the bulbs are much more efficient, and because I typically leave the sockets empty and curse the darkness for a few months before replacing the bulbs. I think my daughter has almost given up on begging me to put a light back in the hallway. I figure as long as there are still working flashlights in the house, who needs real lights? Some day, my lights will shine again.

Our green approach has expanded lately to include not only our usual recycling and compost, but a separate chicken bin for things that might not go into compost and various green bags for shopping. Recycling is a challenge in a small house, so we have had to resort to keeping the bins on the back porch, which makes for an exciting game of hide and seek after windstorms. After last night’s winds, I know I need to search the treeline for milk cartons. I never imagined stalking runaway plastics to be a part of responsible citizenship. I suppose it would be wrong to melt it all into a giant lump so that it cannot get away . . .

Shopping with reusable bags is supposed to be better for the environment as well, so we picked up a number of different bags for doing so. Most came free after large enough purchases at the Co-Op and other places, and some we paid for. Unfortunately, it looks like we may not get a gold star for green bags, but a lead one instead. Great, now I have to worry about my smart and healthy choices killing me. Fortunately, our green veggie bags should be lead-free. Unfortunately, it appears that our refrigerator crisper drawers do not work properly, as everything we put in them rapidly desiccates. This makes for nice chewy mushrooms for a morning omelet, but rather depressing salads. It looks like we will need to add some glass or plastic storage containers to the mix to get this green idea working properly. Although after enough food travels in our lead-filled shopping bags, perhaps we will no longer care so much about whether our spinach is shriveled and crunchy.

Some day it would be nice to cut back on what I assume is our main pollution source (other than the boy-child’s flatulence, that is), and switch to electric vehicles. Living in Humboldt makes that difficult, however, as there are few charging stations, and charging at home in California is prohibitively expensive. I am all for doing my part to improve the environment, but I would rather not go broke doing so. I am sure we will eventually figure out how to make clothing out of dryer lint, which will cut down on clothing costs a bit as well as show our dedication to reusing and recycling, but until then, I am going to continue burning dinosaurs to power my car. As Kermit says, it isn’t easy being green.