Red Mosquito

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

tragabigzanda wrote:

doug rr wrote:got back yesterday from whistler/blackcomb...I had forgotten how much I hate being at ski resorts

yeah all the exercise and communing with nature and alcohol and beautiful women is a total drag!

i mean seriously doug wtf

spike wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

doug rr wrote:got back yesterday from whistler/blackcomb...I had forgotten how much I hate being at ski resorts

yeah all the exercise and communing with nature and alcohol and beautiful women is a total drag!

i mean seriously doug wtf

You’re talking to the man who likes it cool and gloomy in LA.

bart wrote:Skiing is a pain in the ass.

dad wrote:

bart wrote:Skiing is a pain in the ass.

Sure, if you fall on your ass a lot.

Chris_H_2 wrote:

dad wrote:

bart wrote:Skiing is a pain in the ass.

Sure, if you fall on your ass a lot.

terrible

Bammer wrote:Phoenix. Way too far to get to the rental car desk.

I’ll see your stroller and raise you two carried car seats.

Higgs wrote:Going into this whole caravan adventure we always knew our car was a little underpowered for the van weight. All legal and within spec but would be nice to have some more power is all. Regardless, car has been a beast the whole time, performed like a champion.

Couple of days ago (actually it was crabby Sunday now I think about it) we noticed it had dumped about 150ml of coolant on the ground, which was weird. We were getting ready to cross the Nullarbor again and begin to head home, so not wanting to have cooling system issues out in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, thought we'd best get it looked at.

Went to a local mechanic in Ceduna and put the car over the pit. Had a look and could see a slow leak coming from a gasket/joint into the manifold. Fuck balls.

So made the decision to leave the van there and drive 400km south to the nearest bigger centre, Port Lincoln, where there was a dude who deals solely with Landrovers. He had a look and confirmed the leak and has now ordered the parts we need.

Good news is we are all safe and well, we haven't fried our engine in the middle of Australia, and the repair shouldn't break the bank. Bad news is we are looking at a week or so wait for the parts to get here and have had to cancel the rest of our plans (including a freebie 2 night stay at a flash-as-fuck air bnb property within a national park south of Perth that a client had offered up) because once the car is sorted we have no option but to leg it straight back home.

Decided to splurge and took a canal-side apartment for the week while we wait. It's comfy and I can set up my travelling office to get some work out of the way while we wait.

It continues to be an adventure!

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Ello Sailor wrote:So you're back on for the fancy Airbnb?

Higgs wrote:Not gonna lie though, I'm ready to be home and to get to sleep in my own bed again. And see the dog and cat. And my kids. And even the arsehole other cat.