Busy...

Been busy. Working. Dining with old friends. And celebrating 32 million people who will finally have health insurance. Sure, I'd rather see a public option or a single payer system. But when all is said and done, I'm happy the Dems did what they did...Hooray!

Day 78: Goats!

Egads! I didn't bring any books with me to the Napa Valley. Browsing a bookstore, I settled on a book about a couple's search for the perfect goat cheese.

Two minutes left on the computer at the library...I shall extend this entry tomorrow...

Days 75 to 77: Mostly Mud...

Jesus said you can't serve two masters. The same with blogs. It is hard to fit everything in while making mud and taking walks. You either write about one and not the other.

But these past few days have been perfect! Part of the perfect life: up early, make mud, plaster house, walk the short loop, barbecue dinner--finish the day off with a beer and a book. Is there anything better than that?

And my arms, legs, neck, back, fingers, hands, feet, toes and most every other body part are sore from digging, scraping, sifting, hoeing, splattering and climbing.

I've been re-reading the Nearing's books on "The Good Life". I'm no Scott Nearing. He was much too disciplined for me. But what I do like about their good life is the art of balance. You balance time for self and time for "bread work". You balance off the chores by spending some time improving yourself. All of it is about movement; directing your life forward in a balanced sort of way.

But now my eight days on the Homestead are done. Time to balance things off by doing some "bread work". Time to go to Napa to earn some money...

Days 71 to 74: Busy Days and the Buffalo Commons

Been busy these past few days. First off, fighting a virus that has lodged in my lungs, reluctant to let me out of its grasp.

And then the rain finally decided to give us a reprieve. I promised the girls that they would have their own bedroom by Sept. 1---so I've begun with new vigor on the house.

So there have just been a few small daily dog walks.

I did manage to read Steven Rinella's "American Buffalo: In Search of a Lost Icon". This Outside Magazine contributor (and quite a youngter) writes the book from the perspective of hunting a Buffalo in Alaska. I'm not much into hunting---but I found the book to be a good read.

Rinella does pooh pooh the "Buffalo Commons" notion--essentially calling it impracticle. Curious that the leading Kansas City newspaper called for a creation of a massive Buffalo Commons National Park last November. This isn't such a kooky idea anymore.

Day 69 and 70: Wilderness on the Cheap...

Back across California last night to our little off grid home. I stepped outside after dark to admire the stars. Been awhile since I've taken the time to admire them. A reminder of why I live out here: the beauty of the stars! Joni gave me my birthday present: a topographical mapbook of our Plumas National Forest.

Our little section of the northern Sierra doesn't get a whole lot of visitors. The Pacific Crest Trail is about ten miles from where I type this. All the guide books state that this section is best done quickly. They say it is boring; filled with rattlesnakes and it doesn't have enough water. The peaks aren't high enough; the views not dramatic enough. We can't compete with Tahoe or the John Muir Trail.

So what? It is still wilderness and I can't wait to explore the area with my new topo maps! We can afford to live here because nobody wants to come here. Wilderness on the cheap! A poor man's Yosemite!

Today Angel and I (plus Grady, the neighbor's dog) hiked halfways down the canyon. A fine day!

Days 67 and 68: Homesickness and Che'

Just a couple of brief walks after work these past two days. My legs are tired. The weather is dreadful. And I am homesick.

Enough said.

Instead of doing five days in a row, I now do six. In an act of rebellion, perhaps spurred on by my homesickness (and the total lack of humor that my workplace has exhibited over the last year or so), I left a large photo of Che Guevara on the screen of my computer in the nurses station. A greeting and a gift for the oncoming shift.

I think I will make this a theme and leave photos of Ed Abbey, John Muir, H.D. Thoreau, Fidel, Trotsky, Eugene Debs, Izzy Stone and other heroes as a desktop gift for the next shift. That should confuse those staid psychiatric nurses.

Days 65 and 66: Turning 49....

Here I am in the Napa Valley. Working. And taking a couple walks after work. One around St. Helena, before buying some soup and retiring to my room.

The next day (my birthday) around Calistoga with two comrades. But first dinner: crab cakes, a salad, a hanger steak followed by the best lava torte in California. And don't forget the wine. A bottle of Bennett Lane's "Maximus" and a couple glasses of an "old vine" Zinfandel.

The walk afterwards was a bit bloated.

And so the 49th birthday is reached and overcome. Time sure does go fast...

After the walk, I got back to my room in time to watch "The Cove" win the Oscar for best documentary. Hurrah! As with all things political with the Oscars, they made sure that the camera angle cut away from the banner that they unfurled on stage. And they were quickly whisked away before they said something untoward against Japanese whaling and the butchering of dolphins.

Still, winning the Oscar is a good thing.

Day 64: Sobering Up...

After work I find myself at a brewery, sitting with one of my nursey friends, talking about work issues, life and meaningless trivia. I am drinking organic wheat beer in the smaller sized glass (called "wimps") so that the beer doesn't get warm. My friend is drinking wine. The beer is good. Fresh. Cold. Just the way I like it.

A cascade of hospital employees pass by. One of them buys us a round! We order chicken wings---then later (after a half dozen beers) a lamb burger. My friend has chicken Alfredo. The food is good.

We are blowing off steam. Tension. We talk of the strength of RN's. Emotional strength. The ability to endure some dicey situations and then being able to carry on with the shift. I am always amazed by the sheer emotional strength of my colleagues whether they be ER nurses, ICU nurses or psychiatric nurses.

Time to sober up. R. and I take a walk along a road outside the brewery. We explore an upscale resort and drop in to their front lobby. A wine tasting is going on, but we decide that we've had enough booze. We are walking to get sober---having another snort or two defeats the purpose. Besides, we haven't been invited.

We continue on and find a large winery that has some activity going on in spite of the lateness of the hour. A tour group passes by us going to a barn which holds barrels of liquid gold. The tour group are all carrying wine glasses. Dressed elegantly. We are wearing jeans and our shoes are muddy from cutting across a vineyard; we tag along just for fun.

In the Napa Valley, all you need do is look like you belong there, and for the most part, you are treated like you do belong there.

We loiter behind the group, admiring the barrels of wine. Finally, we are noticed. A beefy gentleman walks up to us and asks us if we are with the tour group.

"Nope, we are just a couple of nurses out for a walk", I tell the man.

Trespassers, we are. The gentleman kindly explains some of the barrels of wine to me. Their age and variety. French oak barrels. His voice is kind, but his body language lets us know that we are not welcome there. We say thanks and tell him that we shall leave the property now. No need to call the cops. We are benign. Just drunkenly exploring. Not up to no good.

We leave. Wind around a little more--sober up---and head back to the brewery, our cars and our lives.

Day 63: Sad Man Walking...

The snow has melted. The rain has stopped for a few hours. The sun is peeking through some white, puffy, marshmallowey clouds. Angel and I head out to do the Short Loop.

The woods are alive with activity. I stop and watch a squirrel doing its acrobatics; jumping from tree to tree, barely hanging on before securing its grasp and moving forward. A group of crows caw at me. A pair of woodpeckers flutter by. And Steller jays cry at me.

All this is delightful. And sad.

Sad because I leave this morning for work and the Monastic Dorm. Sad because I had a change in schedule, which now means I work six days in a row (gotta pay those bills). Sad because I will be away for six days. I'm just starting to have fun. I miss this ridge, dog, cat, mud house, girls and Joni when I am gone.

For one year and nine months I have been making this bi-monthly trip to be away for at least a week. Last year I spent (from doing my taxes) 152 nights away from this house. Had to work a bit more to pay for bills.

So, why not work closer to home? Because psychiatric RN's aren't in demand in Butte County. No jobs. I'm not alone in that predicament, I work with other RN's who commute farther than I do to work because the units that used to employ them closed. Mental Health Units have been closing for twenty years; every year there are fewer and fewer of them.

Not that there are few mentally ill, depressed or people in crises. The depressed folks aren't being hospitalized. Gone are the days when suburban angst (unless you have really good insurance or are rich) will lead to a week or two of hospitalization. Psychotic people aren't being hospitalized as much anymore either. They suffer on the street until they die or a crime is committed. Jails are the new psychiatric unit. And I won't work in a jail.

So I make the commute, happy to have a job. Happy for my hospital's commitment to providing such a service to those in need in California. For how much longer I will be able to make this drive? Who knows...

Days 61 and 62: Not Fair...

I'm nursing a cold. As such, I've just had a few "comfort" walks with Angel the dog. Raining yesterday.

This morning we watched it snow. Kylie had to get on the phone (at 7:45 am) to notify all her school friends that: "It's snowing up here!". Snow brings glee to a ten year old.

Not so for a man on the cusp of his forty-ninth birthday. Especially such a man with a cold.

While trying to stay warm and keeping my feet dry, I've been watching plenty of the news channels. Watching the agendas of the corporations via CNN and MSNBC. I can't stomach Fox, although even the newsheads at CNN (and less so MSNBC) are giving me dyspepsia.

One question: Why don't they ever cover anyone who wants to reduce the military budget? Why don't they talk to anyone who would close down the hundreds and hundreds of foreign military bases? Doesn't anybody want to talk about the elephant in the room?

Every once and awhile you can catch a glimpse of an alternative vision on the major networks. Ron Paul makes appearances. Michael Moore. Maybe Dennis Kucinich. They aren't really taken seriously. Good people all of them but most of the time they are brought out 1. because they have to (as when Ron Paul wins a strawvote at some conservative convention); or 2. to look like they are broadening the dialogue in a safe manner. Michael Moore might get an hour on Larry King when he has a new movie out. But mostly the three acceptable critics of Empire are presented like they are the Larry, Moe and Curly of political buffoonedness.

Thanks heavens for Democracy Now! on both Link TV and Free Speech TV. These two channels remain the only sane news outlets in Cabledom.