The pristine waters of Lake Tahoe

Since the statute of limitations for N.R.S. 444.630(2) has passed:

Yep, that's me dropping trow in Lake Tahoe, probably about ten years old, to take a shit. (Hey, loogit: I really, really had to go, and we were hiking in the woods around the lake.) Let the reader who has never urinated or defecated in public cast the first stone!

I'm not sure who took the photo; probably my dad. That's my mom in the upper right (inexplicably) encouraging me, and my sister with the blonde hair and white t-shirt, supervising.

I have no idea why they didn't have me crap in the woods. Maybe implementing the old saw from toxicology that "dilution is the solution"?

Thanks, mom, for making at least a half dozen copies of this gem, so that it has survived the ages!

Pro Tip to parents everywhere: make sure you have a few choice photos of your young kids for blackmail when they start mouthing off as teenagers, or for their partners and spouses to be. My mom was also a big fan of the "naked in the garage holding a broomstick" genre.

Just for W, my most loyal blog reader!

(Well, maybe tied with my mom.)

Potatoing along! 

Tempeh

The. End.

Bartholomew goes hiking!

We went hiking in Greenbrier State Forest with dear friend K, and Rhodi, who tolerated a brief photo shoot.

Walking

This represents about a third of my day. It's less impressive of you don't know that it involves about 25 stairs each time I go south to north and back.

These dogs are barkin!

Avocado. Toast.

Because who can get enough? (As long as the avocados are $0.99 at the supermarket.)

Avocado toast!

🥑 🥑

What's all this bother about $18 avocado toast? This cost about a grand total of $1.07

(Yes, okay, FINE: I mashed it up. I'm not an animal. And added salt and pepper and tomato. So maybe $1.15.)

tattoos and memories

Thanks (but kinda no thanks) to Creepy Uncle Google for reminding me how my day was going three years ago today.

Freedom

I recently watched a really amazing cover by Pink of Janis Joplin's classic Me and Bobby McGee. I really had no feelings either way about Pink before this, but the cover was fucking spot on. Pink was sweating raw energy.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose..."

Right now, freedom is being able to openly pick the boogers from my nose ring on the BART train because everyone around me is so buried in their phones and devices.

Headed to play indoor putt putt golf with K and 3+ year old niece V!

Yard decor

Bartholomew enthusiastically approves of Mom's yard decoration!

Delightful visit with family, now headed to the Bay Area to see A1, hopefully more family, and be interviewed for one of my favorite podcasts!

Fried tofu wingz for the sooper bowl!

Res ipsa loquitor!

Amtrak #51

How is it that the Republicans manage to fuck everything up so badly? Do they try? Or are they just that stupid?

Can't fix stupid.

Sigh.

Train snack

Bartholomew would prefer banana flavored, but accepts that long distance Amtrak trains are a culinary captive audience situation.

Blowing Snow:

A Story:

I live in a big house at the bottom of a big hill, with a window that looks out onto a driveway and parking lot at the bottom of said big hill, in a valley, near a river, in a Mountain(ous) State. Well, at least the ones they haven't blown up yet.

This makes for very interesting wind and weather. When snowflakes flutter and swirl and float around, it's so beautiful, sometimes nearly hypnotic. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) video and photographs really don't capture it or do it justice. So I usually just look out my window every few minutes and take it in for a while. It's truly lovely.

And then a someone with a "Friends of Coal" license plate shows up and parks like an asshole and roars their tricked out Mustang's engine.

But then they go away, and the snowflakes remain.

The End. 

Books: 2017 report

Well, so, 2017 was a kinda busy year, in multiple respects. My books and pages read this year were markedly down from many previous years.

14 books read
4,252 pages read

Best book: eh. This is tough. I read a number of mediocre to crappy books in 2017. Best? I guess I'd say A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman.

Worst book: this is easy. Without question it was Hillbilly Elegy, by J.D. Vance. An absolutely piece of garbage. You can read my rant here about it. J.D. Vance is a tool.

Okay. On to 2018 reading!

I miss you already.

Alaska. Gosh.

Bartholomew:

Saga of a Bold Monkey

Toot Toot! All Aboard the Tofu Express!

Making hippie slop for wraps for tomorrow (and potentially the next day).

Nom nom nom!

Sittin' On Darwin's Theory

With a tip of the hat to the Indigo Girls...

(Bartholomew is all, "Seriously?!? I got that all figured out in undergrad.")

Banana banana banana!

Bartholomew is King of the Bananas.