We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Bird-hunting is basically walking, or hiking, with a dog and a gun. Maybe with a pal or two.
Our Sunday hunt was not productive of meat, but we must have seen 50 Bluebirds. Whether a migrating flock or a local population, who knows? They do not migrate much, depending on food supply. Berries in winter, bugs in summer. They are a kind of thrush, like robins and lots of other birds.
The Eastern Bluebird likes large fields, meadows, pastures, beaver marshes, and golf courses. Backyards, not much. Woodlands, no.
If you scatter 5 or 10 Bluebird houses around a large meadow, they will find them sooner or later. Tree Swallows will find them too, and they can fight about it.
Fennel grows like a weed - and literally as a roadside weed - all over Europe. A celery-like thing, with a cool licorice flavor. You can munch on it raw, sautee it, or pickle it either as refrigerator pickles or real pickles. Fenuil in French, finocchio in Sicily and Italy.
It's perfect with simple seafood. Here's my first course (lousy photo): Warm salad of sliced octopus on a bed of sauteed fennel.
Main course (which was not really needed) - a rare filet of French beef with a jus with olives, not mushrooms. And usual Euroland runny mashed taters.
Yeah, the mighty mighty deadlift. Nothing does it better. Even though I have done these for years, a technical tip always confuses my brain. Best to begin your set light to groove the movement in, then raise the weight until it's stressful as hell to do 2-4 reps.
This youtube is correct, but makes it sound complicated. It's not. Main tip is that you push the world away with your legs. And keep back straight. No way to hurt yourself with this.
1:10 Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom! Listen to the teaching of our God, you people of Gomorrah!
1:11 What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats.
1:12 When you come to appear before me, who asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more;
1:13 bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and calling of convocation-- I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.
1:14 Your new moons and your appointed festivals my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them.
1:15 When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.
1:16 Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil,
1:17 learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.
1:18 Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool.
She wanted - no, needed - to visit the active monastery of Senanque - with better photos than I can do. Cistertians - they will not speak and otherwise live by Benedictine rules. Nowadays, the monks raise lavender and make honey. Oh yeah, also, they have a gift shop and charge for admission. The core of the abbey was built in the 1100s.
Their lavender fields had already been harvested. Besides olives and grapes, lavender is a big deal in Provence. There is even lavender ice cream.
Since it was a hiking trip, we had to go the long way over the Petit Massif, up to the wild west-looking plateau, and down to another valley. Then back to our place over the mountain again. 6 hour hike, spre quads for sure. The hiking paths were rated as "mostly gentle", but it's a Brit company. In the US, they would be rated moderate at least. Mostly stoney paths, easy to get lost, and every one uphill. Will post hiking pics later.
Here's their cloister. Lucky John D. Rockefeller didn't buy it and ship it to NYC:
We spent a day in Aix before heading to the Marseilles airport, attempting to fly to Paris for our JFK flight. All planes were late, so a not-fun snafu. Anyway, on Saturday afternoon I was having a beer or two sitting in the hotel's garden (Hotel Le Pigonnet - lovely, formal old-worldy hotel just a 25-min walk to downtown) while Mrs. BD strolled the splendid formal gardens with her usual Ginger Beer when she ran over to me with urgency. "You have to see this!"
OK. So, in an obscure corner of the lovely garden was a sign, and the view below. Sign said (in French) "From this spot in our garden, Paul Cezanne painted many of his hundred paintings of Mt. St. Victoire in varying lights and times of day." Sheesh. He lived in Aix, and the French at the time reviled his pictures. Readers know that he is my hero of "modern" fine art. A thrill.
A small view of the hotel garden
The view from the garden's pergola where Cezanne liked to paint: