Origin Stories

Why do I spend so much of my time angry at the world? I am so furious now I could spit.

Though I did come upon a raccoon stalking my trash heap last night, when I checked at dawn I was relieved to see that no two- or four-legged creature had torn bags apart. I’d left my car out at the curb to hold the parking space until the Waste Management truck arrived. But the morning hours passed with nary a sight of them. Meanwhile, a few more folks made off with more loot. That was good. What wasn’t good was what I saw when I glanced out my front window at 3:00: someone, in an attempt to paw beneath the pile, had hurled my mini-trampoline into the side of my car, metal legs first. I raced outside and lifted the trampoline away to discover a significant gash in the paint. On further inspection, I saw worse: a sizeable dent.

I can’t stand people. I really can’t. My Subaru isn’t very old and had been in perfect condition. What would possess someone to do such a thoughtless thing in pursuit of their greedy goals? I wish Waste Management had showed up earlier so this wouldn’t have happened. I’m stunned and livid, and I’m disgusted with so-called humanity.

I had been just about to message my doctor that my blood pressure, concerningly high these past months, was doing generally better. Well, I just found out it’s not so great under duress. I’ll update my drafted message to her.

Before my automotive crisis, at least I had a nice visit with PT, my good friend since our days at Pratt in Brooklyn so long ago. And at least the trash is gone now. On to other matters…

You may have noticed that when you visit this site, a different header image randomly loads. I had fun going through my many thousands of photos to pick out a dozen or so that cropped nicely for this purpose. My mother, Small, asked me where a particular one was taken, so in case anyone else is wondering the same, here is the story on each.

This is Cerro Pedernal as seen from Ghost Ranch outside Abiquiu, New Mexico, where Georgia O’Keeffe used to live:

Chimney Rock, same location:

The view from the front deck of the house way out in the country where my parents used to live, and where my sister and her hubby now reside, in West Virginia’s Greenbrier Valley:

Kathmandu, Nepal (I think this was Durbar Square. Cheryl, does that seem right?):

[Editor’s note, 6/26/21: Cheryl confirmed that this is indeed Durbar Square.]

Mekong Delta, Vietnam:

Museo Nacional de Antropologia in Mexico City:

Somewhere (Syd, do you remember the location?) in New Zealand:

[Editor’s note, 6/26/21: Amazing Syd reports that I took this around 9 a.m. on July 5, 2013, at the Bay of Islands, Paihia, North Island. ]

Rio Dulce in eastern Guatemala:

My campsite at Rock Lake, Lakes Basin, Sierra Nevada, on my first and only solo backpacking trip, which was in 2008:

South Lake Tahoe in winter:

Mount Everest as seen from Tibet:

Wagon train in Tibet:

Þingvellir National Park, Iceland:

And finally, after scouring through my zillion photos on SmugMug three times, to my great frustration I couldn’t find where this was taken:

Well, it looks like I really will be getting that third summer camping trip in. Just heard from my ex-BF Nick who did a bunch of research into options, and we decided on a nice, ten-site campground (no RVs) in Shasta-Trinity National Forest, a little over four hours from here. The Forest Service website says this about it:

The campground stretches along Rush Creek among Douglas fir, oak and maple. The sound of Rush Creek can be heard throughout the campground. Most campsites are well separated providing good privacy. Fishing is good for brook trout. The campground road and spurs are unpaved. All campsites have fire rings and picnic tables. Some campsites have a Klamath Oven.

I see only two drawbacks to the place:

• They don’t accept reservations, so we’ll have to make the long schlepp up there and just hope there’s space available. If not, I have no idea where we’ll go. At least it’ll be midweek so maybe we’ll be lucky.
• There’s no piped water: not ideal but not a major issue either, except how will I fit a couple giant five-gallon vats into my car in addition to all my other bulky supplies? What to leave behind? So much for traveling light in the backcountry.

Bye for now.