FILM REVIEW: BLUE PLANET II (series)

 

Yep, Dave Attenborough is back with another of his "wildlife/ain't this a wonderful planet" docs with this one concerning the oceans. We've gotten as far as episode 2 "The Deep" which is sublime. Fabulous imagery and colors, fascinating creatures practically no one has heard of (us!) and a nice non-lecture lecture. In this episode, life in the ocean depths is explored ending with a trip to the deepest part of any ocean on Earth: The Marianas Trench, nearly 7 miles down.

Those with small children may want to wait for them to get older. One of the basic rules on the planet: life feeds on life. The doc does not shy away from this. Critters get killed. It's how things work and this could be upsetting for those too young to understand the concept.

My only quibble is with the soundtrack which to my sensibilities contains wayyyy too many choirs of angels. Feels like either a bit of laziness or not particularly inspired artists.

Four out of four stars for the Cannabis crowd. Very cool stuff and we learned a lot!

Macropinna microstoma is a deep-sea ray-finned fish in the barreleye family Opisthoproctidae featuring a transparent head filled with fluid. This is an protection strategy that evolved so the fish can look upward for predators.

Available via Prime and trial subscription of Discovery channel. Also found on YouTube to rent.

FIVE SECOND STORIES

JK

From Radiohead's Subterranean Homesick Alien 2017:

I wish they'd swoop down in a country lane

late at night while I'm driving.

Take me on board of their beautiful ship

show me the world as I'd love to see it.

When the administration caught wind that she frequently lectured while drone footage was projected behind her of some of the most beautiful spots on the planet, she was dismissed for "subversive grooming" her students to the consequences of climate change.

One of his fondest memories of her final years was sitting on the couch, listening to music by the picture windows, giving her scritches, strokes and rubs and getting loving, tiny rough tongue licks in return.

The agent for an online clothing company ad spoke with such annoyingly languorous vocal fry that one wondered why anyone should bother ordering.

It was a curious experience, listening to music and watching film while a very loud birdsong sonically penetrated the room and adding to the soundtrack. Different days, different species would star.

Unknown 50's music group, Nuthatch and The Chickadees had an unusual schtick: the lead singer performed upside down.

Smart cat: having the sensitive ears all felines possess, upon hearing that the music was turned up, she would vocalize rather than window tap when she wanted in through the slider door.

The steady breeze that afternoon was like a kaleidoscope for her nose when she sat in her blind.

All people possess some worthwhile trait, even those who are otherwise completely evil. For example, serial killer Aileen  Wuornos had beautiful handwriting.

In her elder years, Madame enjoyed having a tablespoon of cream in her dish before retiring for the night.

The squirrel siblings loved to chase one another around the yard and spiraling around tree trunks. The male often would be in the middle of eating a peanut when his sister would initiate a new round and he would seen joining in with a peanut in his mouth. Like one of those guys who spends half the morning with a plastic coffee stirrer hanging out of his mouth.

Their traditional Arabic music was loud enough to hear while they suppered on the deck. High above, a sky janitor picked up on the sound and began a gentle spiral, slowly decreasing altitude. A yellow finch sitting on one of the high wires above the Back 40 picked up on the jazzy violin and began to sing. Two others flew over and joined in an elaborate tapestry of call and respond.

 

NEW FROM INTER-SPECIES BOOKS!

Part of the IS Books family, a page from a Danish literary magazine Wilde & Beardsley devoted to erotica for human men.

English version

ADIOS, BORIS JOHNSON

 

 Peter Gabriel's "Waiting For The Big One" 1977

 

A fine distillation of the kind of behavior prevalent for years in certain people occupying the elite heights of UK government and business. A satrical paean to alcoholic losers from Wall Street, Banking, Real Estate to your basic gambling addicts, all to a bluesy beat. 

Consider what if this song was one of Boris' personal theme songs. During his years of swaggering success, forgetting the negative lyrics, he would be seen dancing alone in his office, blasted on wine with the volume cranked up.

Later, deteriorated and wallowing in those same negative lyrics despite being elected Prime Minister, he would be dancing all fucked up, shirtless and sweating like Chris Farley, during the TGIF staff gatherings at #10.

The wine's all drunk and so am I
Here with the hoi-poloi, don't ask me why
We're celebratin' anticipatin'; end of the year
Everybody come, everybody here
-- well more or less
Some already in a mess
I guess they're waiting for the big one.

Wonder why I'm cold. How did I get this far?
Had no money, had no car
I pray the snow goes, be bad if it settles
'Cos I follow my nose and the dried up rose petals
-- like the man says,
Sure hope Moses knows his roses
Or we'll all be waiting for the big one.

Once I was a credit to my credit card
Spent what I hadn't got, it wasn't hard
No trust in judgements no trust in money
Someday I'll find myself like a bee finding honey
But in the meantime, I'm gonna have me some fun
Waiting for the big one.

One too many, where ego I go too
Looking for the real thing
It don't come from what I do
No real communication moves out of my face
I'm beginning to think I'm just out of place
Won't get in too deep, I want to get some sleep
To be ready for the big one
-- waiting for the big one.

 

SEA DRAGON

Common Sea Dragon (Phyllopteryx taeniolatus) found along the southern coast of Australia and Tasmania.

MOBULA RAYS JUMPING IN THE SEA OF CORTEZ, MEXICO

These Rays have a number of species ranging in width from 3.5-17 feet! They jump individually and in groups.

TOADSTONES: JEWELS FOUND IN THE HEAD OF TOADS

From ancient times through the Middle Ages up until 18th Century, it was thought that these stones were formed in the skull of toads. They were worn by people as amulets and rings to be applied as a magical antidote to poisons and evil. Actually, they are fossilized teeth of a fish, Lepidotes from the Jurassic and Cretaceous periods.

Toadstones are alluded to in Shakespeare's As You Like It (1599)

Sweet are the uses of adversity;
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

SUMMER

 

In the cool of the evening, she dreams of gazelles.

SNAZZY DRESSER

This is a Black Throated Diver aka Arctic Loon. I love his stripes and eggplant throat. Found in Northern Europe from Scotland to Russia and eastern China.

BUTTERFLIES AND RAIN

Black Swallowtail

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail

After posting the dismaying news concerning the collapse of the monarch butterfly population, we had a couple of visitors snacking on butterfly bush nectar. I happened to be working in the East Garden at the time and told them "bring your family, tell your friends. Plenty to eat for all, the buffet is always open."
 

We finally got a good rain last Sunday, a deep soaker of 1.67" at our house. True to the nature of fickle rainfall these days, I was talking to a friend at the market and he lives roughly 10-15 miles away as the crow flies. The rain there only managed to get things wet. As it often happens, these rain events precede a sea change in the weather so Sunday evening it had cooled off. There practically was an audible sigh from the plants and critters as everyone felt better.

HIGH SUMMER

High Summer has arrived: the first ripe tomatoes, the cicadas are starting to sing and the big orange lilies are just about finished. I'm struggling to keep stuff alive-mainly the shrubs. More Japanese willows are dying, I've probably lost 60% of the fence line.  Four straight years of Summer drought and small snow packs during the Winter has been too much for them.

                                                                                                                                                                                                    Tom Potterfield

The butterfly weeds (asclepias) have ended their blooming and are creating their distinctive milkweed seed pods. The leaves of the asclepias are crucial food for the developing larvae of the monarch butterfly and that is why I grow this plant. Sadly, I have only seen a single specimen this Summer and now, it was announced in the NYT, monarchs have been classified as endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature, the world’s most comprehensive scientific authority on the status of species. The population has collapsed here significantly since just last year, which we dubbed "The Summer of Dancing Butterflies" because they would visit us while we were in the pool.

FIVE SECOND STORIES

 

For her entire life, this house was all she knew until it came time to live in her husband's home.

 

She imbibed with her roommates-treats and nip. But...

C (impatiently holding the screen slider): c'mon Molls, you can't be half-in and half-out!  

J (using his Molls voice): Why not? I'm a magical cat!

 

The new children's book she was going to write had the working title of "The Persnickety Chickadee."

She related to her husband an encounter she witnessed between a work colleague and a bloodhound. The women were on a sidewalk eating ice cream when her colleague spotted the dog hanging its head out a parked car window and went over to chat. Standard stuff: "oohhhh what a good boy you are, yes you are. A verrryyyy good boy" and so on. After a couple of moments, the dog raised its head let out a rather long, wavering howl. Both women were taken aback. "What kind of response was that?" she later asked her husband, who replied "he's from the South and good manners there dictate that one must respond when spoken to".

They began to notice that every so often in the early evening, there would be a large congregation of species together in the back yard. Sometimes there would be 9-12 different mammals and avians hanging out and having a snack or drink: the peaceable kingdom hour. The couple later described these events as their "Attenborough Summer".

She was embarrassed by her father's insistence during their Sunday family drives in the country to arrive at some unsuspecting relative's home around supper time with 5 mouths to feed.

What smart chimp figured out that borax is an effective ant poison?

 

She was dismayed while doing morning yoga seeing the cat, lying under the bird bath, reach up and snag a finch who was perched on the edge taking a drink.

A local AME church liked to say that they fostered a "confluence of generations", a Christian community of all ages.

She liked using the term of "dragons" as an analogy for formidable tasks such as completing her doctorate or learning to drive. The problem with dragons she said, was their fire which knows how and when to penetrate you.

After leaving two sloppy joes on the table unattended with the cat hanging out seven feet away, he returned thanking the cat for not molesting his sandwiches. The cat was grievously offended, protesting "you make me sound like a common criminal." "I know how you like to get your snout into things" he replied. The cat was further offended by the insinuation that she lacked proper control for one and that her nose (whose shape she always admired) was referred to as a "snout", e.g. "piglike" and therefore a thoroughly unwarranted example of weight stereotyping. She stomped off to kill something to make herself feel better.

Their mom: I'm so glad I didn't have to buy that. Thanks humans!

She began doing her evening yoga on the pool deck, where by 6pm, there was a strong patch of sun. Often would be a decent breeze and upon finishing her workout, she loved rising with the wind in her hair, seeing the dappled sunlight through the birch leaves fluttering in the breeze.

 

 

 

OUT AND ABOUT IN THE COUNTRY

 

I drove out into the country last week up by my grandfather's farm to look for a settlement called Fenmore. In my memory, there was simply a two story general store at a crossroads. The final leg of the route traveled down one of the oddest paved roads I'd ever seen: barely 2 lanes of a patchwork of layers of asphalt put down over the years, with a pronounced bow from the center. Well, my memory was incorrect. Fenmore consisted of some sort of building on each corner, some looking abandoned, some evidently a homestead. Where did I conjure up the general store from? Around the corner to the West was my cousin's farm, but being Sunday morning, I was pretty sure they were in church. Continuing on to the next road I turned South and drove past my grandfather's farm. This area is quite flat thanks to the glaciers.

Kristin farm looking South, taken in the '80's, a panoramic view made out of 3 photos

The bridge goes over a drain creek that Dad said he used to skate on to school during the winter. When I was young, the corner school house (about 1.5 miles away) was still standing and on the same road was an abandoned log cabin! Both the school and cabin are long gone. On the Northern edge of the farm was a tree-covered ridge that runs East-West for a couple of miles. Adults claimed that there was an old Indigenous burial ground somewhere on the ridge, evidently arrowheads had been found. One Summer, we went up there and collected sand for my sandbox.

 

I continued West, crossing over US 127 and headed to the tiny village of Pompeii. It used to be a thriving small town being first a stagecoach and later a train stop. Now, little remains. Maybe four blocks of homes with the crossroads in the center of Pompeii feature a couple of derelict buildings, a Post Office and a swap 'n trade store.
 

 

 In the area I encountered a couple of startling things:

 

A curious hybrid flag.

 

A sign that read:

If you voted DEMONCRATIC, Jesus still loves you.

 

Continuing West, I began to encounter wind farms. Unless you get up close, you have no concept of just how big these things are. And they provide a curious juxtaposition between modern technology and farmland that has been cultivated since the mid-1800s.

I wondered if more farmers were growing wheat this year-certainly with the war in Ukraine disrupting world supply, there might be better prices. East of US 127, I saw very little wheat but saw significantly more being grown West of the highway. Who knows why?

 

FAMILY LORE AND THE FBI

 

My paternal grandfather, Cyrill Kristin and his grandchildren. My brother Mike is directly to his right in back, I am last in line in front of him.

 

One Summer's day during the McCarthy Red Scare era, an agent from the FBI visited my grandfather's farm in Saginaw County, MI. The agent wanted to know why grandfather subscribed to a Slovak language newspaper. "Because I am Slovak" replied my grandfather. FBI agent: "you know that Czechoslovakia is a Communist country." "Get the hell off my farm" my grandfather answered and the agent left.

No doubt that somewhere in the Federal bureaucracy, my grandfather's name was added to a growing list.

During the same time period, my mother was taking classes at MSU. One of her professors was officially accused of being an enemy of the State and he later committed suicide. It's not a stretch to wonder if her name was added to a list, along with her classmates, as people potentially contaminated by the Red Menace.

 

EAGLE INN

 

Back in the late 80's, first wife Michele and I lived in the country between Portland and a tiny hamlet of 120 souls called Eagle. The village is located just off I-96 and was the exit to head home. The village had a general store/pizza joint/deer processing plant and a bar/resto called the Eagle Inn. We walked in one Saturday afternoon and immediately felt like a couple of yuppies. No, I never wore khakis with an Izod shirt, but we were clearly overdressed. While having drinks and a bite, a man walked in dressed in what can only be described as a mountain man getup. It was Summer and this bearded cat was dressed in a weird amalgam of buckskin and fur complete with a coonskin hat. He carried a musket. Clearly a regular, he stood at the bar having a beer, chatting with the female bartender. Wow, we thought, this is country!

Late Winter the following year, I was out for a walk on the property directly behind ours. There had been a gravel yard there and one distinctive part of the landscape was a long berm of rounded hillocks. Not terribly cold and most of the snow was gone. There, I met up with the Mountain Man again. He was hunting with his musket, in full regalia. We nodded as we passed each other on the hills. It was a strange event, like momentarily being transported back in time.

The land was owned by a farmer who lived on the next road to the West and we had talked with him about venturing into the woods adjacent to the gravel yard. He was ok with us visiting his land which we dubbed the Magic Forest. It was old growth, with lush stretches of different species of wildflowers in the Spring including big stands of trillium. The previous owners of the house left instructions for finding morel mushrooms. I once saw a scarlet tanager.

MUSIC FROM C'S CHILDHOOD: BOBBY BLOOM "MONTEGO BAY"

From 1970, a one hit wonder by Brooklyn-born Bobby Bloom. C, eleven years old at the time, loved the sensual imagery as a place to escape to.

Vernon'll meet me when the BOAC lands
Keys to the M.G. will be in his hands
Adjust to the drivin' and I'm on my way
It's all on the right side in Montego Bay

 
Sing out

Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Come sing me loud
Come sing me Montego Bay
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa

 

'N' Gillian'll meet me like a brother would
I think I remember but it's twice as good
Like how cool the rum is from his silver tray
I thirst to be thirsty in Montego Bay

 
Sing out

Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Come sing me loud
Come sing me Montego Bay
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa

 

I lay on a lilo 'til I'm lobster red
I still feel the motion here at home in bed
I tell you it's hard for me to stay away
You ain't been 'til you've been high on Montego Bay

 
Sing out

Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa
Come sing me loud
Come sing me Montego Bay
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa-oh, whoa

 

Dance in the streets

Just sing me loud
Come sing me Montego Bay
Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh, whoa-whoa, whoa

 

Oh, what a beautiful mornin'
Oh, what a beautiful day
And I've got a beautiful feelin'
Everything's goin' my way

 

How this came up was her reference yesterday to my float as a Lilo. I had never heard the term and she said that it was BritSpeak for a float and mentioned it's part in the song. And, being a Watergirl, the idea of floating all day on the water to the point where that evening, "I still feel the motion here at home in bed" had great appeal.

 

FINAL SQUIRREL NAMING

Yesterday, C and I were in the pool when a squirrel came running across the pool railing, part of their highway to the small birch. Later, C had settled down on a towel in a patch of sun on the pool deck and I was still on the float. The same squirrel, on highway again, but further back adjacent to the feeder, stopped in it's tracks after seeing that one of the giants was uncomfortably close to her route (maybe 3 feet). I was thinking with it's smallness that this was the sister of Bhadra and Sky. Twice she would move forward, chittering loudly before stopping. Finally, she walked briskly past C and in a single leap, landed on a nearby pine. During this action, I could see that this was indeed a female. Her final push of courage, it soon was revealed, came from the unexpected and these days rare appearance of Madame on the pool deck heading for C. We decided that this squirrel's boldness (like her brothers) strongly indicated that she was a daughter of Rolla and we named her Isabella after the Spanish warrior queen.

TODD BACK IN THE FOLD?

We haven't seen Todd in a couple of weeks until yesterday, the gang of 5 Turkey Bros were next door going up the berm. We can't be sure Todd was among them, but I think he might be. This group has been hanging out together since last year although recently, I had only been seeing four. Maybe Todd was finally accepted back into the tribe after his post-mating (or lack of it) shunning. If so, good on you, buddy!

FIRST TOMATOES AND PEPPERS!

REFLECTING PONDS

The use and integration of reflecting ponds with gardens and architecture began in ancient Persia during the reign of Cyrus the Great c546 BC. Since then, some notable applications:

Taj Mahal, India completed 1653

 

Versailles, France c1670's

Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, Washington, DC USA completed 1923

SPARROW FUN

I've witnessed this twice: a sparrow will fly up to the shepherds crook that holds the feeder, wrap a wing around the pole and spiral down like a fireman to the baffle.

TIRED TITMOUSE

 

It had been a long day eating at the feeder and on the ground for Mr Titmouse. There was constant activity amongst the mammals and the avians. He spotted a small peanut in the grass halfway between the giving stone and the house. Normally he would have swooped over with a lot of wing action to brake. But now, late in the afternoon, he simply flew over and arriving over the peanut, tucked in his left wing, dropped and stuck his right wing out enough to effortlessly spiral to the snack like a maple seed whirligig.

RAIN YOGA

Molls: Mom's crazy.

Jeff: Mom's devoted.

M: (grunts)

J: Mom is devoted to yoga as much as you are to killing.

M: (correcting) Hunting

J: "It's a hell of a thing killing a man".

M: Whoa! Dirty Harry!

J: Now just how do you know about that?

M: (smugly) while the master's (paws air quoting) away, the cats will play.

J: No, no, no, you have it wrong. It's "when the cat's (pointing) away, the mice will play.

Molls: They stole it from us.

ON BEYOND ZEBRA

 

C mentioned this the other evening-a Dr. Seuss book I had never heard of. From 1955, Dr. Seuss puts forth an interesting concept: there's more letters in the alphabet after Z!

The story concerns a young narrator who, constrained by the current alphabet reports on these additions, each with a corresponding fantastical creature.

EVENING RAIN

Hiroshige II- Paulownia Trees at Akasaka in the Evening-1859

 

 

For the first time in many weeks, we enjoyed a soft, lengthy rain, hearing it bounce off the deck and roof. No wind, so any movement of the birch leaves was caused by rain drops. Looking out, the rain silhouetted against the pines reminded me of Japanese prints.

MONDAY NIGHT MUSIC: BILLIE HOLIDAY "BLUE MOON"

 

Nice cover from 1952 with tasty sax and trumpet bits.

FIVE SECOND STORIES

 

Slick, the young RedBird enjoyed pushing the mano-mano routine with the squirrels. After grabbing a snack at the feeder while a squirrel fed on the ground, Slick would drop down to the grass directly facing off with the rodent for a solid 3 Mississippies before rocketing upward.

Forever a scout, she was able to fetch the corpse from under the deck. It was a possum. He provided gloves, trash bag and did what gardeners do best: dug the hole.

He drove past his Dad's folk's farm, now just a house with a decaying barn. He was heartened to see that Grandma's kitchen garden was still in use and in fact was being tended by a grown woman and her mother as he drove by. 

The cat's birthday gift to her was leaving a dead chipper under the piano that was discovered when she and her husband returned home after a fun day on the town. Later, during gift giving after supper, his card seemed strange in the circumstance. Two chippers looking through a pair of glasses on the front with the tagline inside: "Hey! You don't look any older". This pun becomes shockingly ironic-yep, that chipper left under the piano won't be looking any older either.

 

Poorly conceived inspirational meme posted on white board at a cat rescue house:

As long as they have 2 ears, 2 eyes, 2 legs, we will do everything we can to care and love them.                                                              

Well, that's great but what about the 4-legged cats? 

 

FutureVision: Amazon seriously embarks on a home delivery via drone program. The bean counters figured replacing human drivers with GPS programmed machines would save the company millions! Subscribers are required to build helio-pads on their property to accomodate larger drones. Noise complaints soon arise from more affluent neighborhoods that have large numbers of subscribers. "Day and Night! I can't get any sleep! The dog just won't shut up. We're both having nervous breakdowns!" was a common refrain from the residents. Finally, wise local officials began offering public referendums asking the people to decide whether or not to allow drone service in their area. The matter eventually went to the courts.

 

FILM REVIEW: A CAT IN PARIS

Wonderful animated feature from 2012. Set in Paris with a young girl and her loving and protective cat who leads a double life. Decent pacing with a rather Hitchcockian plot, I don't think this would be too scary or involved for older kids under 10. Nominated for best Animated Feature in the 2011 Oscars but alas, lost to "Toy Story 3" (of course, the Academy with go with this crowd-pleasing franchise. Sigh).

Available from Prime-we suggest getting the original French language version and deal with subtitles. Hearing the native languages adds to the experience in our opinion. C loves catching the translator's choices. For example, there was a scene where a bad guy is confronted by the cops who, as C put it, nicely told him that he was not a good person. Actually, they said in French that he was being an asshole, lol!

PHIL GREENWOOD ETCHINGS & AQUATINTS

 

Moon Lights

Daisy Lights

BEV DOOLITTLE PRINTS

Click to enlarge

DUCK SOLDIERS ON PATROL!

 

Ducks have patrolled Vergenoegd Löw The Wine Estate since the 1980s. These are  the Indian runner duck, who are flightless with a highly developed sense of smell. The duck troops are cajoled on a 14-day circuit through the vineyard, eating and fertilizing the ground as they go. They take their annual holiday during harvest as they would eat the grapes.

AT THE ZOO!

With the cool, wet weather yesterday precluding a visit to the lake, we stayed in town to celebrate C's 63rd birthday. One of the things we did is visit Potter Park Zoo. Neither of us had been there since childhood. The zoo was established in 1920.

C rides a camel whose name was Molly!

Mr. Tortoise

One of several peacocks wandering the grounds.

Penquins

Meerkats

Mr. Black Rhino-not too happy, pacing. When asked, he growled: "Stupid apes, they put me downwind from a predator (Tiger) so I spend my days feeling anxious. Typical dumbass apes."

The aforementioned tiger who, much like our miniature version Molls, takes a mid-morning siesta.

 

A parrot of some kind. C used to have one in Paris.

C in one of those cutouts where you place your face. Here, C becomes a red panda. This looks creepily photoshopped but it is not, just a trick of focus.

Mr. Otter