L.J. Zinkand

In Spite of Everything

2/8/2018

In spite of all the current craziness, this is probably one of the coolest things I've seen in my lifetime. SpaceX actually launched a Tesla Roadster into space with a dummy behind the wheel, playing a loop of David Bowie's "Space Oddity." Add to that, two boosters landed simultaneously, as if it were a dance.

In spite of most of us believing that an excess of wealth should be used to level the playing field on Earth and solve all hunger, let's face it: people are going to continue to invent new toys and concepts no matter what. You just can't keep a good nerd down.

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New Baby In The House

1/31/2018

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Danoota and Possum

Meet Danoota*, the newest addition to our family. She’s a bit of a rarity – a ginger female. We wanted another girl as the men outnumber the women around here, and Wayne has a thing about ginger cats, so I put the word out at SoHumane. They called while we were in Texas, saying they’d gotten a little female ginger kitten, and would we be interested?
Of course!
We brought her home on New Years Eve. Like her uncles Sparky and Possum, who also came from SoHumane, she came pre-socialized, and leapt out of her cardboard carrier upon arriving, instantly curious about everything. Our older cats have been patient, often allowing her to work them over in casual wrestling. Really, did they think we were all just going to doze quietly into our golden years together? Actually, Sofie and Skeeziks probably had that in mind. Sparky is somewhat indignant, as he had previously considered himself the official Baby of the House, but Possum is the Danoota magnet. She just loves him and we find them curled up together a lot.
She's already demonstrated an aptitude for massage, so here she is, under the tutelage of her Uncle Possum, ready to begin her training.

*The name Danoota comes from a John Lennon poem, “Deaf Ted, Danoota (and Me)."

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Yeah, But I Have Pink Hair

12/26/2017

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Day 10 at the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar.

I used to wear black a lot. First in my punk/new wave band days, then later, perhaps due to its “slimming” properties. Now that my hair has turned arctic blonde and I’ve lost 40 pounds, I am seeking out a few more creative ways to stave off aging. There’s a body to decorate here, and I can’t just let it languish into old age.
I’d been considering hair coloring for a while, after seeing people in our own Medford, Oregon sporting all manner of bright, jewel-toned tresses.
But I wanted pink.
Taking into account that older people tend to gravitate toward pastels, I too, have been gravitating, which goes against everything I used to think. I would have scoffed at the idea of anything pink in my earlier tomboy days, but now when I see myself in a storefront window and wonder how my mother got in there, I am intent on staving off the effects of old age at every turn. “Besides,” I thought, “lots of women older than me have blue hair. Why not pink?”

Before I go any further, here’s a little secret: I’ve been doing face exercises since the late 90s, when a friend of mine lent me a VHS tape by Greer Childers. They really work! Check her out on YouTube.

Finding all manner of temporary hair treatments at the local Walgreen’s I began timidly, with just a few streaks. Wayne approved, so I got sassier the next time around, applying the color more liberally. Then I noticed that my hair at the scalp was somewhat resistant, I applied more pink color left it on a lot longer. By the time the SoHumane Employee Holiday Party came around, I was brightly pink-haired. After several washings, the pink would be toned down to perfection for my trip to Austin. Cotton candy with tiny red glitter highlights was my goal for Christmas.
Turns out pink hair had a major impact on my attitude – I felt younger! I stood up even straighter. Christmas stress? “No problem,” I thought. “I’ve got pink hair!” Rushing around trying to get packed for a trip? ”Yeah, but I’ve got pink hair.” A few somewhat negative comments in the Best Buy parking lot? “Bwahahaha… I have pink hair and you don’t!”
So that’s my free advice this Christmas: try something outrageous. And do those Greer face exercises—you will see a difference in less than a week.
Meanwhile, we spent another Christmas in Austin, as Wayne enjoys working at the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar every year. There’s great art, music and wonderful people, and… I did see a woman sporting tresses of iridescent green. I’ll be considering that for the warmer months ahead.

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Halloween 2017

11/1/2017

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I'm considering offering the entire costume on eBay.

A life-long Wizard of Oz fan, I never would have considered dressing as Zombie Dorothy. Nonetheless, I attended the annual Puss n’ Boots Ball in Ashland this year, a fundraiser for the other animal shelter in town. I'd planned on being the most disgusting, creepy zombie of my entire costuming career, but then one of my friends from Darkwing wanted to wear her flying monkey suit. Another wanted to be the Wicked Witch of the West. I agreed to be Dorothy, on the grounds that it be Zombie Dorothy.
I had a lot of fun putting the costume together, most of which was bought, I’ll admit. The ruby slippers are actually a pair of beige patent leather pumps I got at Payless Shoes, which I transformed with glitter, (not the real sequins, as I still work for a living and also need sleep). I was slightly reticent about dancing in them, but boy-oh-boy were they great! Motivated by a little beer, I could even moon-walk in them. And I swear I wasn’t one of those people who think they can dance because they’re loaded. Oh no. Not only was I awarded a bottle of Chardonnay for a category created just for me: “Best Twisted Classic Movie Theme,” but the bass player in the band, The Rogue Suspects, announced that he wanted Dorothy to come to all their future gigs.
So there goes Halloween 2017.
Now let’s get on with the really spooky stuff happening in Washington.

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Behold, I Have Conquered!

10/4/2017

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Fall is here, and it’s time to clean the chimney of our wood stove. Three years ago I was banned from ladders after The Great Fall, and we had a chimney sweep come and do the deed. It was expensive, plus they didn’t even wear top hats.
This summer my ban on ladders was lifted during the last renovation I ever hope to be part of in this lifetime: updating the outbuilding where our studios are. Seriously—but more on that next time; we’re close to finishing.
My ladder ban was initially lifted to admire the new roof on the outbuilding, then help paint its upper siding, and finally, to view the partial eclipse in late August. I also took the job of insulating the newly renovated studio building, including the 11-foot ceiling in the laundry room. This part actually scared the crap out of me, but there were plenty of places to hold on, and I thought deeply about each step I took.
So I pushed further, hoping to avoid that $180 chimney-sweeping charge. I waited for the most opportune moment to state my case.
“Y’know, I could easily climb up there on our new ladder and save us the money. Besides, I need to know what it’s really like up there.”
Admission was granted.
So yesterday I mounted the new ladder in the exact same place I fell from three years ago, in my good gym sneakers – the ones with really deep tread. Wayne held it steady as I took each step carefully. I nearly froze at the spot where I had to step from the ladder to the roof. Keep me safe, keep me safe, I whispered, my quiet mantra of the past few years when I attempt feats of daring and risk. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the roof. Ya-ha!
I carefully picked my way over to the chimney and removed the spark arrester, which was packed with soot. Then I scrubbed the chimney itself with my chimney brush.
The cherry on top was when our contractor saw me up there and handed me his gas-powered leaf blower, which I used to blow the leaves out of the gutter.
Yes, it was scary, and Wayne stood on the ground under wherever I was, spotting me in case. But I did it.
Sometimes I feel the need to confront scary things head-on. It’s just easier that way

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Minnie

9/6/2017

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With profound sadness, we said goodbye to our beloved Minnie last Saturday.
Minnie did very well for herself, by cat-lore standards. A small cat scraping by on the grounds of the Parole Board in San Antonio, Texas in 2007, she attracted the attention of a pair of kindly women who rescue cats. Part of a network, they made a flyer with her picture and sent it up to Austin. Another caring individual taped it onto the wall in the women's rest room at the Austin Convention Center, where Wayne happened to be working the front door for the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar.
A friend brought him the flyer and Wayne, still reeling from the loss of his beloved cat Teysha, was instantly smitten.
So Minnie caught a ride to Austin with the two kindly women, where she lived with Wayne and his other cat, Skeeziks.
In April 2009 she made her way to Medford, Oregon, with Wayne and Skeeziks.
She spent eight happy years on our four-acre property exploring the bushes, climbing trees, fishing down by the creek, chasing birds and lizards, and wrestling before dinner. She sported the best pair of furry little pantaloons any cat could ever wish for. We also believe that she was a champion player on a local cat soccer team.
Sweet little Minnie was a tiny cat with a big personality, and the apple of her daddy’s eye. She is survived by her loving parents, and adopted brothers Skeeziks, Sparky and Possum, and sister Sofie.

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Jeepers, Creepers

6/24/2017

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Pacific Tree Frog

I wanted to write “Toad in the Hole,” but she’s actually a Pacific Tree Frog, otherwise known as a peeper. These little creatures are the auditory signal of spring around here. They let us know our woodstove-packing days are dwindling and cold mornings are receding as they cavort in the forest during their first rollicking orgy of the year. When the weather gets hot they gravitate to cooler, damper realms.
She found her way inside our bathroom sink this morning. I was poised above the sink with a sponge, ready to clean it when she stuck her head out of an overflow hole. I have much to thank her and her ancestors for. For one thing, I had no idea those overflow holes were so filthy! You can’t see them normally unless you bend over to say, photograph a tiny tree frog. Then last spring we found several of them sleeping on the inside of the door to the electrical meter, as if guarding us from the dangers of an obsolete electrical box.
When an electrician arrived to replace the box, he had to temporarily remove the meter. Here's what he found:

I’ll patiently wait for you to find your way back to coherence. I myself had to sift through the five stages of bewilderment: shock, disgust, laughter, compassion and finally, acceptance.
In the meantime, listen to the Pacific Tree Frogs.

So we’re at it again. Renovating the outbuilding that houses Silverlining Designs, The El Wayno Loco Show, the laundry, and storage. What originally seemed like a simple plan to remodel the space, the ensuing weeks spawned a massive overhaul including a new roof, new walls, pulling a 1930s Oldsmobile frame out of the woods and redirecting a seasonal creek. I was perfectly happy with that seasonal creek coming down the ravine behind us and flowing under my office during the winter, as it’s a post and tier affair. “Hey, a river runs through it,” I always said. But the creek bed had been widening, so it was time to fill it in.
This one is Wayne’s baby. He’s been scheming to redesign this space for years, and it’s finally his turn.
Not this again, I thought, imagining the demolition, the noise, the very upheaval of my life.
But it’s an outbuilding and my office is still intact. I have a new Yamaha electric piano adjacent to my computer, so I can swivel around and play a tune whenever I want.
My new role is The Producer. I like this new arrangement. I nod and write checks, and approve this and that, making the occasional comment or revision. I did, however, insulate under the new floor before the heat became 104° outside yesterday.
The tiny tree frog must have shown up this morning for comic relief. Our woodland creatures have a way of doing that around here, I swear.

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Charmed, I’m Sure

5/8/2017

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It’s official: I am now a Lifetime Member of Weight Watchers! The golden key was bestowed upon me at the weekly meeting. The other charms are an assortment of motivational bling I’ve received over the past year.
Basically, it means I’ve stayed within 2 pounds either way, of my goal weight for the past 6 weeks since making said goal. If I continue to show up once a month for weigh-in, I won’t have to pay monthly dues.
Naturally, after the meeting we went straight to one of our favorite restaurant-breweries in Ashland, Standing Stone, and ordered salmon tacos, pizza (for Wayne), beer and French fries. We have a tradition of splurging right after weigh-in, then behaving ourselves for the rest of the week.
Of course, we’ll keep doing the weigh-ins. We like the people in our group, and seem to flourish in a setting where the people are all striving for self-improvement.
So yeah, it’s a blast to be small again! I’ve come down 3 sizes. And, like one of my all-time favorite characters says:

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Happy Birthday To Me!

4/27/2017

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Dark-Throated Shooting Stars pop up on our property every April!

Hooray for another trip around the sun!
Lest we forget, not everyone is this lucky, so I offer much gratitude to Ullr, the God of Skiing, the spirits of nature, plus whatever powers-that-be have been protecting us from the mysteries of our home’s electrical system.
The wildflowers are exploding this year, due to so much rain. I'm also happy to say that I've upgraded to Leanne 4.0. I’ve lost 40 pounds, which was one of the highlights of the year, primarily thanks to Wayne, whose idea it was to join Weight Watchers together—he lost 46 pounds.
So here's the thing with WW: I did not arrive by my own volition—I had to be talked into it. When Wayne brought it up, my eyes glazed over in much the same manner I see when I mention it to other people. I imagined having to sign up for an endless supply of processed, prepared meals which would arrive on our doorstep weekly, in which only an act of Congress would suffice to make them stop.
But no!
During our first meeting, I realized that I could do this “program” on my own terms. Without launching into another long-winded Weight Watchers discourse, my terms were simple: I would never, ever give up beer. Since the whole WW strategy is to make their program your program by doing fairly simple math, exercising and following recipes, I have been able to lose 40 pounds while still having a couple of beers per week, without starving or going insane.

We rewarded ourselves with a trip to Mt. Hood, Oregon, where we stayed at the Timberline Lodge for a few nights. Famous for its exterior being filmed in The Shining, it also has some of the best skiing anywhere. As a skiaholic, I’m always scheming for a way to squeeze in skiing as an adjunct to travel. Case in point, this was actually a side-trip on our way to Seattle. Since Wayne doesn’t ski (yet), we figured this place would have enough mystique for him to wander around the mind-blowing timber lodge with its massive, 3-story stone fireplace, outdoor heated pool, hot tub, and really great wi-fi while I skied myself to the very brink of Elysium.
It did not disappoint.
You can basically ski right out the front door and get on a lift.
I skied my brains out while Wayne explored the lodge.
The trail on the left, which is over two miles, was so long that I had to stop and just holler for a few seconds in ecstasy. Luckily it was a weekday and I was the only one around.
So there you have it. One year older and I actually feel about 10 years younger.

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Here’s That Ride I Promised

3/27/2017

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Welcome to my winter Happy Place: Mt. Ashland in Southern Oregon. Once or twice a week I drive up here to surrender myself to gravity, hurtling down the hill at breakneck speeds to my favorite songs, my awareness stowed firmly in my feet. I find this relaxing and somewhat cathartic.
That said, we’ll be cruising at an altitude of about 7,500 feet—a sweet, zippy slide on a trail called Dream. The shadow is me. I invite you to see what I see.