OF FRIENDS, CATS AND BUCOLIC VEWS

AN ECLECTIC FRIDAY

Nesta and Ziggy catch the morning the sun.
Ziggy, the black cat, has not been well.  A trip to the vet and we hope the protocol prescribed will make a difference.  After 16 years the old girl is a dear member of the family.  Some find it odd, but I think it is wonderful how we humans feel about our masters, those cats and dogs we work to feed.
FORCED TO THE ALFRESCO SETTING

The Friday lunch Flash Mob was so large today there was no room for us on the deck.
The picnic setting is not so shabby.  That's the old San Simeon School behind us.
On the other side is the big blue

It was another round of eclectic conversation-but quite informed of course!
THE CENTRAL COAST DAY BOOK
WHAT YOU SEE OUT AND ABOUT

X marks the spot.

Hug a friend, pet an animal, look around you.
See you down the trail.

OPRAH & THE BLONDE ITALIANS AGAIN

THE BIG O

       I have a little different take on Oprah. I was amused that a program no less serious than Charlie Rose on PBS spent an hour analyzing the Oprah era in television and her impact on society.  Countless articles have covered the phenomena that is Oprah.  The two next to last programs, taped at the United Center in Chicago, a cross between a rock concert and a religious crusade, came close to being the first step in the beatification of her Oness.

       Years ago, before I read it attributed to anyone else, I called her the most dangerous woman in television.  Dangerous?  How?  

        She was dangerous to any station not carrying her syndicated program.  In almost every market, the local news that followed Oprah was number 1 in that time slot.

I ran a news a department that had to compete with her powerful lead in.  The station where she aired would begin their 5:00 News with maybe a 13-17 rating, or higher.  We other stations had 3, 5, 7  or depending on the changing line up of lead ins, lower than that. That meant that Oprah controlled the early evening news.  She knew that and her syndication fees, for the station's bidding to carry her, continued to go up and up and up.

Still, the winning station in the bid knew, could count on, at least starting the lucrative early evening news block with a sizable audience advantage.

       We worked hard to provide a product and quality that would attract an audience, but coming off the block, the Oprah affiliate had such a lead, they almost hard to work at loosing audience.  When we could win, that is have the largest audience by 6PM it was an incredible achievement and well noted.

      So, now that Queen O is vacating the daily pre news syndication spot, it will be fascinating, fun even, to see how those Orpah led stations fare.  That is until the new queen or king of afternoon chat emerges, though it seems unlikely there ever be the likes of Oprah. THE QUEEN IS GONE.  LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

...speaking of queens...

INSPECTION TIME

Time for another "look in" at our Blond Italian Bee Colony.

We need to check on their status in laying brood, capping comb and beginning to deposit honey. To do so the top is removed and the queens quarter is examined.

Katherine tranquilizes the colony so we can remove the so called queen screen.

Once the queen screen is set aside we get a better look

The round cornered rectangular shapes on the frame top above is propolis, a tree resin the bees collect to "seal" the connecting surfaces and edges of the frame.

They do this for security.  Breaking the seal requires use of a tool.

 We can then pull a frame for closer examination.

 All movement should be slow, easy, making sure not to injure a bee.

 A frightened, riled or injured bee can send a warning signal agitating the colony and making them aggressive.

Lana and Katherine are looking for evidence that chambers for pupa have been formed.

 Areas of the frame comb have been filled-a good sign.

The white and non yellow fill in some of the comb pictured above is the first evidence that honey is being made. Ciao my little blondes.
See you down the trail.

GRASSES-ON THE COAST AND IN CUBA

WAVES OF A RATTLING SEA

       Locals call it "rattle grass."  It is true to its name in sight and sound.

       It is the time of season when the "rattlers" mature, catch the breeze coming off the coast and create a symphony.

        The rattles are vaguely reminiscent of a rattle snakes rattle.  Those other rattlers are not uncommon in this area.

        It will grow to chest height.  The sound it makes is a crisp rattle click.

        The Chumash Tribe that inhabited this area milled the seeds of grasses into a food.

        You will also spot other vegetation cohabiting with the grasses that seem to rule the upper bluffs.

       Other variety of grass also flourish and provide their brand of beauty.

        The stubborn thistle provides a bright spot in the golden brown.

       The grasses posses an elegance.

     GRASS COMING TO CUBA

       I read with amusement the Cuban government has given preliminary approval to foreign developers to construct golf courses.  50 years ago, when Fidel Castro took power he got rid of golf courses, calling them the epitome of bourgeois excess. 

       When I was in Cuba, noticing the European tourists, I wondered if the government would ever come around and bring courses back.  Looks like they are on the path.

      In the weeks ahead I'll provide glimpses of Cuba.  It is an exotic venue.

      See you down the trail.

DRUGS, SPORTS & GARBAGE REDONE

END THE HYPOCRISY

       A comment by fellow Blogger Catalyst to a recent post on the Amgen Bike race

started my wheels turning.

           

Is it time to end the hypocrisy about athletes and “performance drugs?”

Bikers race 135 miles and climb 10,000 feet. The NFL turns bodies into ramming machines. All athletes train long, tough hours and “play hurt.”

Why is Gatorade, a shot of cortisone or a blow of oxygen legal, while other substances are banned? Some may be helpful.

Some context- I’ve been an amateur athlete for 60 years. As a journalist I’ve covered NCAA and professional sports. Coaches, trainers and athletes are friends. I went through an NBA rookie camp on assignment. I know the pain in training rooms.

“Someday we’ll be replaced by bionic jocks,” Len Elmore said to me from a neighboring cybex knee machine.

If a “drug” does no harm to health and if sanctioning bodies can establish competitive standards, why not permit athletes to “treat” “repair” or even “assist” their bodies undergoing abuse? We treat cholesterol, blood pressure and etc. Why can’t pharmacology help and, perhaps, prevent harm or later suffering?

Professional authorities should approve a formulary of drugs that aid the body, not those that merely give a competitive edge. We expect super-human performance. Let’s control and supervise performance assistance “medicines.”

Getting this matter under control of sanctioning bodies and the medical community will also help young athletes.  Today some school kids are going on-line to buy supplements over which there is no quality control.  

COMPOST

AKA GOOD GARBAGE

Katherine turned the compost today.

She is a third generation "composter."  Her mother Lana and I began composting back in the mid west.  Lana's mother was an early composter as well.  

Here you can see a raised bed and a tomato cage that will eventually be the

beneficiary of this natural fertilizer.

We've experimented with a variety of "compost heap" and/or containers.

The bottom line is easy in and easy out.  The coastal temperatures here allow for a slower process, but it is working.  I'll close on this topic with the thought that composting is also about ethics and sustainability.  That could launch a long conversation some day! 

KEEPING UP A GREAT SPIRIT

       If you are a frequent reader of the blog you've seen posts with updates and letters from my friend Bob Foster who is fighting leukemia and preparing for a Bone Marrow Transplant.  Earlier this week you saw his wonderful post about fly fishing.  Here's an update.

Subject: "It's always something. If it isn't one thing, it's another" --Rosanne Rosannadanna (Gilda Radner) SNL

Got to return to Mayo three days next week for more intensive chemotherapy. The previous protocol controlled the blood counts, but not the leukemia. Bone marrow is still 80& to 90% compromised. The preferred status is for the CLL to be less than 50% of bone marrow. Blood tests led us to believe otherwise. That is why Mayo verifies with bone marrow biopsies.  Still on track for transplant evaluation June 16th - 24th. Three options:

1. SITUATION: The Myloma treatment ( no, I don't have Myloma, but this drug has been successful in some CLL patients) devastates the leukemia, putting the bone marrow below 50%. ACTION: Proceed with reduced intensity BMT
2. SITUATION: Myloma treatment has some impact, but does not push the bone marrow below 50%. ACTION: Treat a second time and re-biopsy                                       
3. SITUATION: The Myloma treatment has no effect on the CLL. ACTION: Proceed with a full intensity BMT protocol. 

We pray for Situation #1, but are prepared for situations #2 or #3. Ironically, the Lord has showered more business opportunities on us this week. I fully trust my colleagues to do what is necessary to help bring these blessings into the house. 

The coaches had a game plan. The ball snapped. What? The other coaches also have a game plan? My Mayo coaching staff just called time out. We are making some adjustments to the secondary coverage. Nothing more. Nothing less. It's still early in the 1st Q.  

Foster

      Bob is one of the most inspiring people I know. He is also heck of a good writer and was a world class sports broadcaster.

      See you down the trail.

SPRING ON THE BLUFFS

EYE CANDY

       Our sympathy goes to those of you in the mid section of the country, suffering  the aftermath of Sunday's deadly storms. And our best thoughts to those facing  flooding. Perhaps this post will bring some light into your day. The western edge of the continental US is decked out in spring color.

 the bird seemed to be posing

 interesting shadow play
UPDATE NOTE FROM BOB
Friends,

A colleague and friend called me, "You said you would like to go fishing in the Volga River before going into the hospital. If it would put Mrs. Foster's mind at ease, even though you prefer fishing alone, I'd go with you." Monte is a fly fisherman. They understand space and solitude, so I agreed. We waded that little river all day. More to my disappointment than his, Monte caught one little creek chub. I caught a couple of small mouthed bass and a rainbow trout. The water was too cold for much fish activity. We literally wore ourselves out wading, climbing up and down river banks and stumbling through the woods. We saw limestone bluffs, fossil formations, eagles, orioles, finches, deer, a ground hog, muskrat and lavender wildflowers. The woods were freshly greened. The afternoon sun brought the colors alive. We heard rippling water. At the end of the day, Monte turned to me, smiled and said, "Foster, this is the second best fishing day of my life. The best was when I caught a 19" trout in Montana. This is close."

Huh? One little creek chub. 10 hours of work? A good day?  It was unspoken between us. He had taken a cancer patient fishing. His gift was giving me the chance to enjoy one of my favorite activities for the only time I can in 2011.

We have vowed to return in June 2012. The water will be warmer. However, sometimes the number of fish simply doesn't matter. 

Foster 

See you down the trail.