Well, brother J and his wife L and little T have left to go home to northern California. My folks are driving them to city V (this is annoying, isn’t it?) to pick up their rental car. There was no more room in the car for me to tag along, and I have plans later this morning anyway, so here I am. [Sigh] And it’s always sad when people leave. Thank God for the dogs to keep me company.

I took some pictures while they were here. Maybe I’ll get some up in an album to share.

Why is it that we bloggers often identify our family members and friends with just initials? Are we afraid they’ll be hunted down by some blog surfing predators? I can see why bloggers like Riverbend do it; she’s in a war zone and has every good reason to fear authoritarian reprisal. But why am I doing it?

I finished reading A Graveyard for Lunatics by Ray Bradbury. It took me a while, but it was good. A fun read. Didn’t think a lot of the plot, but the writing was way above average. No flies on Bradbury; he’s a pro.

When I dropped that off at the Library, I picked up Blue Shoe by Anne Lamott and started it. She’s near the top of my list of favorite writers, not because she creates great literature but because her writing is true and honest. Her essays on her life and faith are downright brave. And she loves writing, which shines through in everything she publishes. So I’m looking forward to this book, even though she’s maybe no John Updike.

Which may be true, but John Updike is. So I picked up one of his. I know, I’ve read it before and mentioned it on this blog, but I just couldn’t help myself. I got Toward the End of Time for another reading. Here’s a writer who’s so good, he can do anything he damn well pleases. And I could use some inspiration along those lines.

Finally, we watched Beyond the Sea. Kevin Spacey as Bobby Darin. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I did. I really enjoyed the music and even the dancing. Which suprises me; I usually dislike musicals. But this movie had a surreal edge, some good acting, and Kevin Spacey actually can sing pretty well.

So my brother J flew down from Sacramento last night, with a connection in LA. His wife L and son T came down by car a few days ago, and we’ve been having a happy visit. J joined us at the end of the work week. TMI?

Anyway, J’s text message’d me before he took off in Sackatamato and again in LA, to keep us updated on his progress. Then right before he took off for SB, I got a message that I have a photo from him.

I don’t have a camera phone; I’m prefer one of these. But I can get photos sent to my phone via Verizon Wireless’s Web site. So I go to the computer, but there’s nothing new in my inbox. There’s this picture that J sent me last fall, from a Macy’s store up north. I thought VZW was having a nutty, ’cause I know I didn’t leave that picture sitting in my inbox for half a year.

Turns out this is the one he sent me last night. J keeps this in his phone, just to send out now and then, to make people’s day a little more surreal. So I want you to meet J’s little friend.

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So now you know, if this cutie pops up on your phone, it’s probably my brother. Or it could be me.

My brother and his family are here for a visit. J flew in tonight when he got off work in northern Cal. Which means that I didn’t totally screw up the flight booking, which I handled for him.

My nephew is such an amazing kid. Just 4 and he’s gonna be smarter than his uncle and his dad put together. He speaks in sentences, with words up to four sylables. The president of the United States can’t do that!

It’s summer solstice time, and the weather is beautiful.

God is merciful. If continued gravity is any indication, the sun is on schedule to rise again, and I have some bold hope of being here to see it. Goodnight.

My friends and I lost a friend today. Tracey was one of the guys in our lunch group when I worked at Veeco. He worked at TI then, and more recently at Raytheon. I was much newer to the circle of friends, and he always made me feel welcome. He made us all laugh. I enjoyed being around him.

I remember Tracey was saving up to buy a Porsche. No hurry — I’m sure he could’ve financed it, but you see he had this fund. He knew what he wanted, but it wasn’t driving him the way wanting something drives a lot of men. All good things in all good time.

I can still barely believe it. Somebody must have made a mistake. A computer screwup maybe. I kept thinking we would get an e-mail from him — it was all a mistake or a joke. Wasn’t he in my e-mails just yesterday, suggesting lunch to the group? It hasn’t been long since I talked to him on the phone. He called to encourage me with a problem. So it must be a mistake; some misbegotten line of code, unchecked, unproven; some wildly misfiring offspring of Intel, bringing us this news. No, it was his heart. He always seemed to me the kind of guy who made good use of it.

Please take a moment to say a prayer for the good man Tracey Gourlay, for his family and his friends.

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My template got corrupted. Had to get new html from blogger, ’cause I didn’t have a good backup. At least not the time to keep searching through my backups for the right one. So it goes. May take me a little time to get the blogroll and comments re-established.

Please excuse the sawdust and bent nails.

I don’t know why, just felt like typing that title. Owl says that in Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day, which I watched with my nephew T a while back. He, T, arrived for a visit with his mommy tonight. Daddy will follow in few days, when the work’s all done this week. ‘Course, they’re not here with Tasha and I at Condo del Cielo. It’s a swingin bachelor pad, so they’re all over at the family’s summer cottage.

Tasha had a pretty good day. A bath, some relaxed wandering about the grounds, and a few aminal cwackers.

We’re both pretty tired. The sprinklers should be off by now, so time for walkies and a quick pee in the wet grass before bed. (No, not me, Smarta–)

Tasha had not a bad day. She ate her food with enthusiasm, did some napping, got brushed, and got lots of petting and hugs. And she handled her first at-home sub-q fluids like a trooper. Laid very still, a heroic dog. And I must admit I did OK too, considering that before yesterday I’d never before stuck a needle into a living being.

Reminds me of Biology lab at Chico State in 1984. We were learning to type blood and had to stick ourselves in the tip of the finger with a sharp, sterile lancet. I couldn’t do it. Wasn’t afraid of it, not bothered by blood or fear, just couldn’t get my brain to cooperate and let me do it. I started laughing at myself, then got embarrassed. My lab partner that day was a beautiful – seriously – little blond girl. Finally, she took the lancet, grabbed my hand and just got it over with. Women amaze me sometimes.

We took Dad out for an early dinner, starting at Outback Steakhouse. There was a crowd outside and no place to park. Headed for Olive Garden, same deal. (It was 3pm!) But we found ourselves parked in front of a Japanese style steak house. Like Benihana, but not. Those guys really put on a show with the knives and the spatula and the flaming onions and stuff. It was really pretty good. Dad liked it, and he’s not into the exotic at all.

Happy day, Dads.

Tasha is lying on the grass in the sun, next to one of the cassia trees Dad planted this year. The breeze is ruffling the hair of her tail and her ears. She can stay there as long as she likes, and go with me when I go. I would not leave her behind for anything.

The vet called today with lab results. Tasha’s kidneys are failing. She has about one third kidney function left. She’s also anemic.

She just got up and moved into the shade by the fence, farther away but facing the house. I wonder if she’s watching me where I sit on the deck, watching her. I waive.

So today we went to the vet and I learned how to give her fluids with an IV drip, under her skin. You pinch the skin and make a little tent, then poke the needle in. she winced when I did it. I will do this for her every day and it’s hard; it hurts my heart. But she would do anything for me.

So we have the IV ringers and some special KD food. Kidney Diet. And the words of the vet to carry home: “guarded to poor;” “some dogs carry on a while;” “weeks to months.” Strange, since she seems to feel better today, after the fluids. Like she did a couple of weeks ago, at least.

They say when she starts having “more bad days than good ones,” we’ll know it’s time.

Tasha has been with me since October 1991, when she was a little over a year old. I’ve had dogs around me all my life, but Tash was the first to be well and truly mine. I’m her guy. She loves me, follows me from room to room, would rather be with me than anyone else, ready to travel anywhere, any time. My companion, my best and dearest friend. I cannot tell you the summit of my gratitude for 14 years. I love her so much.

Isn’t that amazing? I did nothing – God knows – to deserve it. A pure gift, and how much is love like that, loyalty like that, worth? It’s priceless, and there is no king in a palace, no rock star in a mansion, who has more friendship than me. No one has anything more precious.

They’ve shown me what to do and tried to tell me what I’m up against, but the truth is they don’t know. They think my dog is going to die, but that’s a shadow of the thing.

Love is so high, so wide, so vast in its infinite blue and thundering clouds, that no one can tell you what it is. No one can tell you what you lose in the absence of it, of the friend of long stormy nights, the ears that listen without judgment, the soft hair to pet … I look at the sky and the sky will not hold it. The stars are just a screen to hang it on.

But I tell you a miracle: love fits in this yard, there by the cassia tree in the shade. And through this long, sad day – a consolation – love dreams of walking with me.

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Memos Show British Concern Over Iraq Plans – Yahoo! News:

“In one of the memos, British Foreign Office political director Peter Ricketts openly asks whether the Bush administration had a clear and compelling military reason for war.

‘U.S. scrambling to establish a link between Iraq and al-Qaida is so far frankly unconvincing,’ Ricketts says in the memo. ‘For Iraq, `regime change’ does not stack up. It sounds like a grudge between Bush and Saddam.’

The documents confirm Blair was genuinely concerned about Saddam’s alleged weapons of mass destruction, but also indicate he was determined to go to war as America’s top ally, even though his government thought a pre-emptive attack may be illegal under international law.”

I know, it’s been a while. I’ve been busy. My doggie is sick. I had to take her to the vet, and now I’m watching her like a mother hawk.

Got a haircut today. In the next chair was the CEO of CKE, the corporation that owns Carls Jr and other restuarants, and which is headquartered in my area. At least I think it was him. They called him Andy, which is the first name of their CEO, and after he left the barbers said he was the head of Carls Jr and that he’s a really nice guy. I found a photo online, and it looks like the guy. I’m not going to link to it, because it’s on Fox News, and those guys are asshats.

The CEO was talking about the Paris Hilton burger ads they’re running. He said he’s been fielding e-mails which decry the ad as pornographic. He pointed out that there’s no nudity, no sex, no murder, no bad language, etc. And he’s right. I know it when I see it and that ain’t porno. And I just kept my mouth shut and listened, because I learn more than way. But it seems to me that as much as I support their First Amendment right to show us a wet, soapy Paris cavorting on a Bently and getting hosed down, I have to wonder if this tactic shows any respect at all for the people they’re trying to communicate with.

Using meat to sell meat is interesting, though, don’t you think? Reminds me of the walking, talking entrees in Douglas Adams’ Life the Universe and Everthing… or was it The Restaurant at the end of the Universe ? No matter, never mind. The thing is I’ve felt even more inclined than usual to drive past their burger joints since that ad started, because it seems like if I go there it means I’m every bit as bovine as they think I am; as much as the fatty, heart-stopping stuff they’re serving up.

Yahoo! News Link

Well, that’s a long time. But not so much long than some other folks. My grandparents on Mom’s side were married in January 1928, and were together until Papa passed away in October 2002. That’s 74 years, folks.

Grandma was a good cook. Papa stayed out of her way while she was doing that. … A lesson there?