julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)
Well, one more, anyway.

I need a good name for this boy, the roan bull looking at us. The fat bottom in the middle is his twin; they're both good size for non-twin yearlings.

Photobucket

Of course he's not old enough to breed to this year, which is a bit of a problem; the world is short of bulls this year.

Julia, agriculturally speaking
julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)
I've been going to get a wethered (neutered) goat, but the thing is uncut grass is as much a problem for me as blackberries; this little guy was born a couple of weeks ago in my friend-since-forever Penny's flock, and sheep eat grass, and also, sheep are, on the whole, less arseholish than goats, so: sheep.

This is here instead of LJ because I'm borrowing the photo until I can take one of my own.

I expect he'll be known as Cal.

Julia, it was sort of love at first sight.
julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)
Somebody really needs to do a vid of Loa Aloha (1:18) to Bruce Springsteen's "Highway Patrolman."

And I say that as someone who doesn't much even watch vids.

Julia, terrible person, but that's sui generis
julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)
Although my only icon is the least Hawai'ian thing ever.

My relationship with Hawai'i is peculiar: I've never been, but one of the biggest parts of my natural social context was the Kalama family, whose founding father in the PNW was one of the Hudson Bay Company's Owyee navigators, and whose big twentieth century even was a family reunion with their cousins on the big island. My oldest non-family friend in town went to high school in Waikiki, where her mother and a couple of her siblings still live. And because of the Navy thing and the Pacific trade thing there's been Hawai'ians of various degree in and out of my life since childhood.

So: cards on the table. I hated Jack Lord in the original program; he was Stoney Burke to me, and Hawai'i Five-O the original series was not a western nor was it Hawai'ian Eye, which was much cooler and funnier and had Connie Stevens and Poncie Ponce, who looked just like my friend Hal Ikebe, whose mother was a Kalama and father a Nisei from Fife (WA: now car dealerships; pre WW2 truck gardens which were emptied by Japanese Internment). The new show is much more Hawai'ian Eye in feel, or perhaps Magnum, PI (which dates entirely from my "I don't watch TV" period, 1972-1982 and the subsequent "We cant get the CBS affiliate" period, 1984-1998).

Anyway, I started watching mostly for Daniel Dae Kim, who I've crushed on since AtS, and Grace Park (because who doesn't like Grace Park?) but the antic chemistry between Scott Caan and Alec O'Gloughin is a gas to watch, and this is Not a Serious Cop Show for which I praise all relevant media forces.

Weirdly amusing fannish datum: Scott Caan was born August 23, 1976, Alec O'Gloughlin on August 24, 1976: someone needs to make something of that.

So, ramble on, I fear. It's barely 20F outside, which is -6.66F, an appropriate number if ever there was one, and I have to go mess with the driveway in a bit.

I like this show; I wish I could kick-start my brain and write something for it, but no story-imp has appeared in my brain, shouting for attention.

Julia, ramble on, ramble on
julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)
I was going to post an actual entry, since Live Journal is still misbehaving and I've had every intent of posting here and then deleting the post from my edit history, to maybe, maybe, start establishing something like a tiny niche of privacy where I could vent about living with my husband and daughter and not having my son around for back-up (although in honestly he is as bad or worse when it comes to clutter and borderline hoarding).

My energy levels were just about up to creating and posting an icon. Now I must rest so I cango photograph that dogwood tree is better light, before the oaks and maples leaf out and put the tree in total shade.

One of the ways my father was crazy was that he could not cut down a dogwood tree. He loved wildflowers, knew the difference between native plants and weeds, was a bit nuts when it came to timber but loved the things that bloomed in spring. He'd have been 93 this coming Thursday.

Julia, perhaps I'll post here more , just to see.
julia_here: Jacob wether lamb Calypso, soon to be mine (Default)


Since Bead's the only person who's on my list so far, and since I'm yet to read the code page: here I am! I am here!

Julia, more to follow, sort of

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