Oregon is the land of the farthest of far-left nutters, and I can prove it. People circulating petitions for a measure that would outlaw hunting and fishing — in other words, people getting their own food — have passed the signature threshold to get placed on the November ballot. Signature verification will follow.
Initiative 28, called “Peace Act" (not a typo), would, according to the Oregon Hunters Association, “remove legal exemptions protecting hunting, fishing, trapping, and farming from Oregon's animal abuse statutes — turning nearly one million Oregonians into criminals.”
Under this initiative, one could not even use a mousetrap.
Proposed measure would make those practices, and other common practices involving animals, criminal offenses if injury/death occurs. Criminalizes breeding practices for domestic, livestock, and equine animals; exception for 'good veterinary practices' and self-defense. Applies to mammals (including vermin), birds, reptiles, amphibians, fish. Eliminates hunting and fishing licenses, which would remove funding from wildlife management. Directs state money to fund for animal welfare, food assistance, job training for persons who lose livelihood due to initiative’s enactment. Other provisions.
Initiative 28, the “Peace Act,” an acronym standing for People for Elimination of Animal Cruelty Exemptions, would make it illegal to hunt, fish, or get rid of pests such as mice, rats, moles, or gophers in Oregon.
The organizers needed 117,173 signatures and just crossed that threshold this week. The Secretary of State’s offices will verify the signatures to determine how many of those are legitimate. Heh.
I can't describe how sad this makes me. Many of my best memories of my Oregon sojourn are hunting and fishing with my now deceased younger brother Ted. I hope the voters of Oregon resoundingly defeat this stupid proposal, assuming it makes it to the ballot. Unfortunately, I have no confidence in them. anymore.
Most of the coverage surrounding the "Community Safety Firearms Act" approved
by the Oregon legislature this week has focused on its ban on "rapid-fire
devices", which are vaguely defined as anything that increases "the rate at
which the trigger is activated.. to a faster rate than is possible for the
firearm without the device; or the rate of fire increases to a faster rate
than is possible for a person to fire the firearm without the device." The
bill specifically bans bump stocks, trigger cranks ,hellfire triggers, binary
trigger systems, burst trigger systems, as well as switches and auto sears,
but could arguably trip up any gun owner who puts in an aftermarket trigger
that has less pull than what comes standard on the firearm in
question.
It would also allow local governments to pass policies prohibiting people
with a concealed handgun license from carrying a gun into certain public
buildings.
“A governing body that adopts such policy must post a
clearly visible sign at all normal points of entry to the building and
grounds and post a notice on the governing body’s website,” the bill
says.
The bill also sets the implementation date for Measure 114,
the voter-approved law passed in 2022 that bans purchases of magazines that
hold more than 10 rounds of ammunition and requires a permit before buying a
gun.
In March, the Oregon Court of Appeals ruled that the
voter-approved Measure 114
does not violate the state constitution. Barring further legal challenges, the law is effective March 15, 2026.
Democrats and advocates for stricter gun laws and regulations
argued collectively the restrictions could help curb firearm fatalities and
mass shootings in Oregon.
The idea that we can stop a mass shooting by simply putting up a sign telling
people they can't bring guns inside is downright idiotic. But this is also a
weakening of Oregon's firearm preemption law, and if local governments can ban
lawful carryu in certain public buildings I suspect Democrats will soon follow
up with legislation allowing localities to impose their own gun-free zones
wherever they see fit.
It's equally stupid to believe that criminals are going to go through the
mandated training and paperwork to acquire a permit-to-purchase a firearm
instead of stealing one or buying one on the black market. The
permit-to-purchase requirement is just another barrier placed in front of
those trying to exercise a fundamental civil right by making it a more
burdensome, expensive, and time-consuming process.
Banning arms in
common use, like magazines that can hold more than ten rounds, is a flagrant
violation of our Second Amendment rights. In order tor that measure to be
upheld, judges have to write magazines out of the Second Amendment entirely by
labeling them accessories or misrepresenting what the Supreme Court has said
about protected arms, which is what U.S. District Judge Karin Immergut did two
years ago in upholding Measure 114.
. . . The Oregon State Supreme Court has yet to weigh in on the
legality of Measure 114 under the state Constitution, and the federal
lawsuit challenging Measure 114 is sitting in the Ninth Circuit Court of
Appeals. Those lawsuits could still delay or derail the implementation of
Measure 114 altogether, but even if that portion of SB 243 is put on hold
there's plenty left in the omnibus gun bill approved by the legislature to
impede and infringe on our right to keep and bear arms.
Back when we lived in Corvallis, Oregon, which has admittedly been a very long time now, it seemed to me to be the very essence of gun culture. We routinely supplemented our diet with the abundant Black-Tailed Deer in the local coast range. My younger brother Ted even briefly owned a gun store in Lebanon, and we occasionally went to a local gun range and competed in metallic silhouette shooting matches. I was never really competitive.
It's sad to see Oregon go this route. I guess they should have put up that wall to keep us Californians out like they threatened.
Attorneys for the state of Oregon are making their case to a federal judge
today, arguing that Measure 114’s magazine ban and “permit-to-purchase” law
should take effect on December 8th as scheduled in order to prevent
“unnecessary deaths”
from taking place. Ironically, however, if the goal of the ballot measure is
to ensure that only those deemed worthy enough by the state (or its political
subdivisions) to own a gun can do so, then the law is already proving to be an
utter failure.
As we’ve been reporting for the past few weeks, the
narrow passage of Measure 114 (approved by just 50.7% of voters) has led to a
huge spike in the number of gun sales. At the moment, the Oregon State Police
are so backlogged with background check requests on firearm transfers that
they’re automatically delaying all new requests, and the Oregon Capital
Chronicle reports that it could take months to get through the checks that
have already been submitted.
Under federal law, if a background
check request isn’t completed within three days, dealers are allowed to
proceed with the sale. Many firearm retailers choose not to take that route,
but faced with a crush of customers who fear their ability to purchase a
firearm will be completely curtailed if Measure 114 takes effect without the
permit-to-purchase system in place, some gun shops in Oregon have made the
decision to
conclude the transaction
if they haven’t heard back from the state police within 72 hours.
The owner of a gun store in Tigard, who spoke to the Capital Chronicle on
the condition of anonymity, said he’s no longer waiting for background check
to clear.
He said he and some other gun shop owners he knows are
completing all sales, no matter the weapons sold, unless Oregon State Police
determine a customer has failed a background check within three business
days. He said he’s sold about 500 firearms this way.
“All the
people releasing these (firearms) — we’re not happy about this. But we don’t
have a choice,” the dealer said.
Other gun shops are openly
advertising the loophole to encourage sales. J&B Firearms in Beaverton
announced on Nov. 20 in a popular gun blog that it would invoke what it
called a “nuclear option” to speed up the process.
In the post on
the Northwest Firearms message board, the store encouraged customers to buy
a weapon, submit information for the background check and return three days
later – but before Thursday, Dec. 7 – to pick up their purchases.
“We
also invite and encourage all other Oregon (federal firearms licensees) to
join us in adopting this policy,” the store said in its announcement. “If
this state wants to take us down, we believe we should go out with a bang,
not a whimper.”
Not every gun store owner the Capital Chronicle spoke with has invoked the
“nuclear option.” Some say they’re concerned about potential liability for
proceeding with the sale, while others say they’re unsure when exactly the
72-hour window actually starts.
Now, that's the Oregon I know and love! After I moved to Oregon for grad
school, my brother Ted moved up as well, and we got into serious hunting
together. His love blossomed further, and he became a pistol aficionado, as
well as a gun shop owner in Lebanon. Rural Oregon was, and probably remains
gun country.
Two days after
telling a federal judge that Oregonians will be able to apply for a
permit
to buy a gun by the end of this week, Oregon’s attorney general Sunday night
acknowledged the state isn’t ready to have a permitting process in place as
required by the voter-approved gun control Measure 114.
From my point of view, 2021 took the handoff from 2020, and said "hold my beer and watch this!" I lost a brother, and a long-time friend and co-worker to cancer. Did they die because the WuFlu made them reluctant to go to the doctor? I just don't know.
Jessica Lynn has already provided a one time Tuesday Tune.
My first memory of Ted is he peeing on me. Now, let me put that into context. I was five years old, and my parents had just brought him home from the hospital, and were changing his wet diaper.
The five year age difference, which doesn't seem so important now, meant that Ted and I weren't particularly close as children. Even when I became a teenager, we had our own friends and social circles. My even younger brother, Mark, and I were both good at games, cards in particular, and Ted refused to participate (it's possible Mark and I were just a little mean). He did, however, follow my interest in fishing and tropical fish. He also sold my books and aquariums when I left for college, and kept to proceeds.
Once I got into graduate school, we became closer for a while, as he also went to Oregon State University, he seeking an undergraduate degree in wildlife. For a couple of years (we think, we can't really document it), he lived with us in our house in Corvallis. He and I got into deer hunting and target shooting, largely at his instigation. There were years where we rarely ate beef. We also had a lot of good times fishing in Oregon, mostly in the Calapooia River, but in other places as well.
He was also instrumental at getting us into Tai Kwan Do, where he stayed long enough to get a 2nd degree black belt, and I wandered off after achieving my first degree, mostly in an effort to focus on writing my dissertation.
He left the wildlife program without getting a degree, and moved to nearby Lebanon, Oregon, where he, with Dad's assistance, purchased a gun store. At some point, he resold or closed the gun store (I can't really remember which), and took up flying, becoming a instructor for small planes and helicopters.
Ted and Monika with Bethany (l), Katarina (r) and Karl (bottom) at Pismo Beach
It was somewhere in this period that I moved myself, Georgia and Corwin to Florida for a post-doctoral fellowship, and we mostly lost touch, except for news that Mom would tell us, or on occasional (not quite yearly, but almost) visits back to the West Coast. During this period, he went from a flying instructor the small private airfield in Oregon to second seat in a regional airline in California. He got married to his wife, Monika, whom he met in San Luis Obispo, and moved to Murphys, California (where her family lived) and started to pop out kids, first Karl, then Bethany and Katarina. Before the kids, he and Monika visited us once in Southern Maryland, where he humiliated me by catching the largest Gray Trout I had ever seen on night at the power plant.
Ted with the 8#, 28 inch Gray Trout
My parents, seeing old age looming, decided to move closer to Ted and those grandkids. They wanted away from LA, where Mark lived, and where they resided briefly after selling their delightful house in Pismo Beach, and weren't willing to follow us to the East Coast (I don't blame them). They struck a deal with Ted to take care of babysitting the grandkids, if he and Monika would help take care of them in old age, a bargain they accepted and kept 'til the bitter end. Mom was in hog heaven.
At some point, he lost his job flying (probably a good thing, the hours were crazy), and had to worry about what to do next. I suggest computer work, and, while I don't know if it was because of my advice or not, he settled into a job as a computer, and eventually telephone (mostly computerized these days) specialist) for Sonora County, a hop, skip and long jump from Murphys, where they continued to live around the corner from Mom and Dad.
Still, most of our contacts continued to be at family reunions, mostly in Pismo Beach, but also in Murphys.
Shortly after I started this blog, he decided to begin his own, entitled A Man, A Dog and a Gun. Being a computer guy, he hosted it on his own server at home, using WordPress software. He and I were nominal contributors to each others blog, but other than a single post each, we really didn't do much together any more, although we read, and occasionally commented on each other's posts. It's still running this morning, but I can't predict how long it will last.
In recent years he consulted with us on his retirement plans. Last year, in anticipation of retirement, he had double knee surgery (both knees on the same day) to get it over with.
This year, on the day before he retired on Aug 1, he went to an urgent care center, with abdominal pains. By the end the day they had seen spots on his liver with a CT scan. In a few subsequent days, they diagnosed liver cancer, and began to work with doctors, but after a visit to Stanford for a complete mapping, they determined it was too far advanced for treatment; anything they could do would not prolong his life or make it any less painful. He cried a little that night, when he called to tell me, and thank me for being a good brother.
A few days later, a Facebook PM from Katarina, and a call from Karl and Bethany suggested they if we wanted to see Ted and have any hope of interacting with him at all, we should make plans. Hence sudden trip to Murphys amply documented here. It was a bittersweet visit, some good times, but full of sorrow, and I hated to leave, but leave we did, last Monday. Late last night, Karl called to inform us that he and Bethany thought this was Ted's last night.
This morning, when I awoke and got down to the my phone, a text message from Karl informed me that Ted had passed away.
In addition to Monika, Karl, Bethany and Katarina, Ted is survived by his beloved Rhodesian Ridgebacks, Riley and Echo.
Hey, the majority of Californians can’t complain. They voted for this. They’ve voted Democrats in control of the legislature since 1970. The Assembly is 60D-19R, Senate is 30D-9R. That’s a supermajority. Republicans have controlled the assembly for about one year. Even if it’s squishy Dems supposedly voting in squishy Dems, the squishies vote with the hardcore leftists. And you get
Thanks to a reworked menu and long hours, Jeannie Kim managed to keep her San Francisco restaurant alive during the coronavirus pandemic.
That makes it all the more frustrating that she fears her breakfast-focused diner could be ruined within months by new rules that could make one of her top menu items — bacon — hard to get in California.
“Our number one seller is bacon, eggs and hash browns,” said Kim, who for 15 years has run SAMS American Eatery on the city’s busy Market Street. “It could be devastating for us.”
At the beginning of next year, California will begin enforcing an animal welfare proposition approved overwhelmingly by voters in 2018 that requires more space for breeding pigs, egg-laying chickens and veal calves. National veal and egg producers are optimistic they can meet the new standards, but only 4% of hog operations now comply with the new rules. Unless the courts intervene or the state temporarily allows non-compliant meat to be sold in the state, California will lose almost all of its pork supply, much of which comes from Iowa, and pork producers will face higher costs to regain a key market.
That vote was 62.66% in favor, 37.34 against. Rather close to the numbers that vote in the presidential elections, always for the Democrat.
With little time left to build new facilities, inseminate sows and process the offspring by January, it’s hard to see how the pork industry can adequately supply California, which consumes roughly 15% of all pork produced in the country.
The National Pork Producers Council has asked the U.S. Department of Agriculture for federal aid to help pay for retrofitting hog facilities around the nation to fill the gap. Hog farmers said they haven’t complied because of the cost and because California hasn’t yet issued formal regulations on how the new standards will be administered and enforced.
Barry Goodwin, an economist at North Carolina State University, estimated the extra costs at 15% more per animal for a farm with 1,000 breeding pigs.
Strangely, one lawsuit was dismissed, which had used the Interstate Commerce Act, because all pork products come in to California from other states, not California. The California law would require producers in states not named California to comply with California law. One of the provisions states “Prohibits certain commercial sales of specified meat and egg products derived from animals confined in noncomplying manner.” Another would apply up to $1,000 fines. Yet another provides for inspections by California inspectors. Will California send them to North Carolina, Iowa, and Minnesota, the top three producers of pigs? Would the states and companies allow that?
If half the pork supply was suddenly lost in California, bacon prices would jump 60%, meaning a $6 package would rise to about $9.60, according to a study by the Hatamiya Group, a consulting firm hired by opponents of the state proposition.
But, it won’t jump by 60%, it would go to zero in most cases, as producers would simply avoid selling pork products in California. No bacon, sausage, barbecue, pork dumplings, or anything else that would be affected. That’s simply the easiest thing to do, is it not? Some products will be sold, and the prices will certainly jump way more than 60%. Is that realistic? Because that’s what the law says. Even if they want to sell it, the law says they can’t. . . .
Hopefully, this means more for me. But probably not.
Yesterday, before my walk on the beach with Skye, brother Ted called to ask me how I was doing after my vaccination report. It seems he had his second shot (Pfizer) that same day, although later seeing as how he's on the left coast timewise. He was feeling a bit off and flu-ish. At that point I was noticing nothing besides the sore arm.
After the walk in the cold and wind, I was feeling pretty tired and bit achy (not terribly uncommon), and by the time dinner rolled around I was positively suspicious, and took my temperature. 100.6. I took a couple Advil and went to bed, and this morning the fever is gone, as well as the ache.
Earlier this week we joked that with PG&E now scrambling to enforce intentional blackouts every time there are powerful winds for fears the bankrupt company’s aged infrastructure could cause a new fire, “every time the wind blows California will become Venezuela.”
… PG&E warned it will shut off power again on Saturday to as many as 2.5 million people as violent winds batter the state, in what according to Bloomberg will be “California’s largest intentional blackout ever.”
According to a Friday statement, approximately 850,000 homes and businesses in Northern California, including much of the San Francisco Bay Area, may be impacted beginning Saturday evening. And with data models indicating the weather event could be the most powerful in California in decades, with widespread dry Northeast winds between 45-60 miles per hour (mph) and peak gusts of 60-70 mph in the higher elevations through Monday, large swaths of the region could be without power for days.
I heard from Ted yesterday that they expected to lose power again late today (in Murphys, California), and Georgia just talked to Mary in Eureka, and they're going to be shut off at 5 PM Pacific Time.
Here is a link to the planned blackout area. Note that it excludes San Francisco, Sacramento, Los Angeles and most other large cities.
Working by candelight at his desk, Governor Gavin Newsom signed a new law that bans electricity, propelling the state into a progressive futuristic paradise. Newsom said he got the idea while experiencing the latest round of rolling blackouts in the state. He decided to make the blackouts the law of the land.
"Other, backward states still use carbon-heavy electricity, gas for heating and cooking, and wasteful air conditioning," he said proudly as people applauded around him. "But not on my watch. California has progressed beyond these archaic concepts."
The law also bans vehicles, forcing pedestrians to use innovative new horse-driven carriages.
Next on the legislative docket? The elimination of water-wasting toilets, to be replaced by just going on the sidewalk. A pilot program in San Francisco has been very successful, according to the homeless population there.
Exercise hasn't really worked; we go to the gym 3 days a week, and I work out fairly hard and Sky insists on a long walk every day, or else! So I'm in decent shape for a fat old geezer.
Many years ago, pre-blog, Georgia and I tried the Atkins diet, and lost a lot of weight, in my case dropping to 185, a weight I hadn't seen since early in college. We even kept it off for a few years, but the diet is hard to stay on if your wife is Italian and likes bread and pasta (and sweets literally call your name) and eventually we drifted off of it.
At some point during our trip to California this Sept, Ted and I were talking about weight, and he said he was using intermittent fasting to lose weight, and I made the offhand (and not entirely serious) comment that I really needed to lose weight too. Dieting while traveling is hard because of dining out, and eating with family at large dinners.
Georgia overheard, and shortly after we got back, asked if I was serious about losing weight, and I said yes. She said she would simply cut back on our portions, and see what happened. Eggs and sausage for breakfast, with a little toast, usually a sandwich or leftovers for lunch, a single snack in the afternoon, and a single serving for dinner.
The day after we started I weighed 235.5 according to the bathroom scale. I weighed 217.0 even this morning, although I glimpsed 216.0 a few days ago, but I don't get overly concerned with a lb here or there, as long as the trend continues. So I've lost slightly more than 15 lbs.
I can already feel a little lighter, and my clothes fit more loosely. I even put a new hole in my belt.
If I eat everything I want, I top out somewhere near 235, but it's clear that by fighting, I can take it down considerably.
How low will we go? I don't know, but I'd like the see 200 from the underside.
It bottomed out at 14 F around 6 AM here this morning. That's not Minnesotacold (-37), but for Slower Maryland it's pretty cold, and winds at 15 kts NE don't help a bit.
Stick around for the second half.
It's cold all over the county. I got this from Ted this morning:
It shows us in single digits due to wind chill. Miami looks pretty good right now.
Skye still wants a walk. We'll start negotiating soon.
When preparing the Australian edition of PopSci, we like to change the more US-centric references and metaphors to something more... antipodean. In our December "Best of What's New" edition, a drone was described as having a wingspan similar to a Bald Eagle (the US national animal). Naturally, we changed that to "Wedgie" because it offers opportunity for hilarious misunderstanding (cf. "rooting") and also because the Wedge-Tailed Eagle is better than the Bald Eagle in the following indisputable ways:
1. It's a proper eagle
Our Wedgie is a member of the genus Aquila, which is Latin for, well, eagle. It's one of just 12 species of totally awesome, pure, no-nonsense eagles. The Bald Eagle? It's a Haliaeetus sp. which is one of those prissy sea eagles.
I guess Australians are all afraid of the sea, because they were brought over as convicts.
2. It has a more awesome scientific name
Ornithologists know the Wedgie as Aquila audax which is absolutely the kind of thing I would carry into battle on top of a standard and fight to the death beneath etc. Also it means "Audacious Eagle". The Bald Eagle is Haliaeetus leucocephalis. Did I spell it right? Hell, I don't even know how to SAY it right.
But not audacious enough to take on a fish.
3. They put on awesome combat air shows
Wedgies pair-bond and while sometimes they'll sit in a tree and preen each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers, other times they'll dominate the airspace over their territory by staging a series of mock-battles. This can include epic loop-the-loops and talon-on-talon duels. Bald Eagles, meanwhile, merely build the largest nests of any tree-dwelling animal (except hipsters). Like some kind of Bogan with a McMansion.
Got any Grizzly Bears down under?
Seen Bald Eagles do all of the above, at my own beach.
4. They attack hang gliders and paragliders
Be it known: the sky belongs to the Wedgie. If you go up in it and unwisely fail to wrap yourself in steel, aluminium or carbon-composite, and fly at heights or speeds similar to the Wedgie, you WILL get attacked. What will a Bald Eagle take on? A dog. If it's little.
A little old Magpie giving a Wedgie a wedgie
Proud of having a stupid bird of prey? How Aussie of you!
5. A Wedgie was the biggest confirmed eagle of all time
Back in 1931 when people used to just shoot everything they saw, a female Wedgie was confirmed as having a wingspan of 284 cm (that's 9 ft 4 in, yanks). We like to think she was only brought down with a WWI-style howitzer. Other reports of Wedgies with wingspans of 310 cm plus are deemed "unreliable" but we're prepared to offer benefit of the doubt. Biggest Bald Eagle? Maybe 244 cm. In Alaskan centimetres.
Today's in flight meal, Speckled Trout!
Size isn't everything, as all Aussies should know.
6. They will attempt to eat emus
For Americans and other aliens, an emu is Australia's even-more-insane version of an ostrich. It is a flightless bird that weighs 60 kg and stands two metres tall. A Bald Eagle will eat fish out of a stream, but only if they are organic and mercury-free. Bonus info: a Wedgie will also eat dead kangaroo from the middle of the road and attempt to stare down an approaching semi-trailer. We admit the Wedgie cannot destroy the semi-trailer with heat-vision or telekinesis, but given the direction evolution has taken with this bird so far, it's only a matter of time...
1/7th of a Red Neck 7 course dinner,
a six pack and a 'possum
When the Ospreys leave for the year, and the Bald Eagles can no longer steal from them (there's a reason the Federal Government adopted the Bald Eagle as it's symbol, over Ben Franklin's advice), Bald Eagle, they happily switch to a diet of sea ducks, and road kill.
7. The Wedge-tailed eagle has a wedge-shaped tail...
While the bald eagle is... uh... oh apparently it's from "piebald" because it has a two-tone paint job and then the word evolved over time to blah blah blah. Sorry, I was here to admire a kick-ass raptor, not get an etymology lesson. AQUILA AUDAX VICTOR!
8. It doesn't have a yellow beak.
Seriously America, your eagle just looks ridiculous.
The Wedgie just looks kind of like a teenage Bald Eagle. He wants to grow up looking as cool as Mom and Dad.
We got home from California early this morning, after 13 hours of driving, shuttling, flying, walking, flying again, shuttling some more and finally driving again. It's good to be home, even as it was good to see Dad and the rest of my family.
Georgia bailed Skye out of the spa, while I ran up to Washington D.C. to play in the band.
We're currently visiting Murphys, California, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada, where ny father, brother Ted, and his family live. I walked down town for a cup of iced coffee late yesterday afternoon with my other brother.
John and Daniel Murphy were part of the Stephens-Townsend-Murphy Party, the first immigrant party to bring wagons across the Sierra Nevada to Sutter's Fort in 1844. They earned a living as merchants, but like many others, began prospecting when the California Gold Rush began. They first started in Vallecito, which was known as "Murphys Old Diggings," before moving to another location in 1848 which became "Murphys New Diggings," "Murphy's Camp," and eventually just "Murphys."
The placer mining in this location was wildly successful. Miners were limited to claims of 8 square feet (0.75 m2) and yet many were still able to become rich. The Murphy brothers themselves, however, made far more money as merchants than as miners. In fact, John was so successful that he left town at the end of 1849 and never returned, having amassed a personal fortune of nearly $2 million. Roughly $20 million in gold was discovered in Murphys and the surrounding area. Two of the richest diggings were named Owlsburg and Owlburrow Flat.
Now, with the gold largely played out, Murphys is a small tourist Mecca, on route to Big Tree State Park, Bear Valley Ski Resort, and not too far from Yosemite National Park, by California driving standards. Trees provide shade in the 90 degree summer days, and there are plenty of places to eat and drink along the main drag.
Wine has become a big business in the area; I am informed by Mark that 17 wineries have sprung up where there were only 2 a few years ago.
A few days ago, I gave an update on the California drought, which is gone in the north, and going in the south. I promised pictures of New Melones Lake (near where my Father and brother Ted live). Ted was kind enough to send me theses pictures:
You all know that California, up until recently, had been in the throws of a historic (although not geologically unprecedented) drought. However, a few weeks ago, the weather patterns shifted to a "Pineapple Express" pattern which tends to sweep moisture laden air from the Hawaii area up to the Pacific Northwest, causing repeated strong rainstorms, as well as the much more badly needed snow in the Sierras, which act as long term water storage.
By way of Watts Up With That, this convenient diagram showing the recent changes in drought conditions:
Which show how the drought is essentially gone from the north of the state, and much relieved in most of the remainder, with reservoirs being refilled, in many cases above their historical average storage:
Hopefully Ted will send a picture of New Melones Lake, which he crosses daily on his way to work, and has been recording occasionally to show the drought.
After they get through this rough patch, California might want to seriously consider upgrading it's water resources, before boring a hole through earthquake prone mountains for the "train to nowhere".
Mom's service was Saturday morning, at a small Lutheran church in Valley Springs, quite a ways a way from their home in Murphys. After a luncheon at the church, Mark, Ted and I assembled at Dad's for a final consultation.
We stayed overnight with Dad for the last time, loaded the rental car, made our goodbyes and left by 8:15 AM for a 12:30 PM flight out of Sacramento where TSA precheck got us through the line with minimal consternation . The flights went as planned, and we arrived at BWI on time at 10:38. The baggage came out remarkably fast for Baltimore, and the shuttle to the parking was waiting when we got out. Although we were caught briefly behind an MARC train boom barrier, traffic was minimal, and we made 23 of 25 lights on the way home (we've done better). We were home by 12:30 AM.
We'll get the dog out of the doggy spa after breakfast.
She was born Mary Elizabeth Ray, in Baltimore, Maryland on Aug. 13, 1923. We always called her Libby, and she was my mother.
What little I know of her childhood suggests that it was a happy one. She was the only child of Charles, a banker, and Mary, a homemaker, and though she grew up in Baltimore, she had numerous relatives she called cousins (although I think her use of the term was expansive) in Frederick, which she considered a second home city. She was outgoing and quick to make friends, and kept in touch with many of them for life, and very sentimental.
She was working for Baltimore Gas and Electric Company in World War II, when she met Dad, a 2nd Lieutenant, fresh off the boat in the Merchant Marine at a Lutheran church function. After the war, which ended late for Dad, having been stuck on a ship in the Pacific, whose Captain was reluctant to return, they were married in Baltimore, and shortly after started a near legendary journey across the United States in an old leaky Hudson Terraplane, to meet Dad's family, and ultimately complete his education in music at UCLA.
The details of their movements between then my earliest recollections are obscured; dad may know, but they're not important today. I was their first child, born in the summer of 1951, and my earliest recollections are from our house in Culver City, where we lived until I was 12 or so (we moved between my 5th and 6th grade). While she did not work while I was young, I am aware that she had a job as a buyer in the UCLA Purchasing Dept. before I was born, and which she went back to after we kids (she had two more, Ted and Mark, born 5 and 7 years after me) were old enough to trust to babysitters. She kept working there, rising steadily in rank and authority, until retirement at an early, but respectful age. We just located a 20 year pin from UCLA while inventorying her jewelry.
After Culver City, they bought a magnificent old fixer upper house in very nice neighborhood nearby, Cheviot Hills in Rancho Park, Los Angeles. I remember Mom carefully stripping and re-varnishing what seemed like 100 windows, while dad and I demoed a wall to make the new kitchen/family room.
Dad and Mom were a great couple. He was the dreamer, and she the realist. He had high flying plans for business deals, and she was the worrier. He was the accelerator pedal and she was the brake. He was the entrepreneur, and she was the accountant. They fought some, but never seriously, and while many of his ventures were not great successes, enough were that they contributed significantly to their financial success.
I left home for college at 18 and, except for summers, usually split between Oregon and Los Angeles, never really came home again. Ted sold all my old books and kept the money, and I think he might have sold some of my fish tanks too. Still, we were all close.
When Mark went off to college at Cal Poly, Dad, ever looking for the land investment opportunity, bought a sea side apartment complex in Pismo Beach, which Mark managed while at school. After he finished, and they retired, they sold the apartments, and used the proceeds to buy their dream house in Shell Beach, up on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with a gorgeous, well kept garden. Without doing any math, I think this must have taken place in the early 80's. At some point, they also kept a condo in Los Angeles, but I only visited there once.
Upon sensing old age approach, they began to search for a place to settle, preferably near a child to help. The East Coast was out of the question, so we were eliminated, and they didn't want LA either, so Mark was out, leaving Ted, who was married and settled and starting a family in Murphys, California with his wife, Monika. Initially, Mom and Dad bought a double wide trailer in a park there, but after a few years had a nice, but not luxurious house built in the same development as Ted and Monika. Ted and Monica had three children, Karl, Bethanni and Katarina, and Mom and and Dad, but mostly Mom, became the babysitters of first resort. They grew up splitting their time between the two houses, and the bond between grand parents and grandchildren is very strong. In latter years, the children repaid with love and attention to their needs.
At the approach of her 80th birthday, she wanted a special celebration, and started the tradition of family reunions in August in Pismo Beach, first at a series of motels but in all recent years at the Sea Crest.
90th birthday in Pismo Beach
Mom had her up and downs with health. She survived uterine cancer, skin cancers, and colon cancer. Just 3 or so years ago, she was diagnosed with breast cancer that had spread to lymph nodes, but after lumpectomy and pathology, it was decided that it was a slow growing variety, to treat with low impact chemo and no radiation, because something else would kill her first.
That something was to be heart and lungs problems. The first sign was atrial fibrillation, which was treated with a pacemaker and Coumadin, which, when Camp Hillary tells you is an innocuous drug, don't believe them. Used to thin the blood and help prevent clots, the amount needed is variable, and requires close monitoring of clotting times, and makes subsequent surgeries trickier. She also developed type II diabetes, which she controlled very well with diet, although she loved her sweet things.
About 3 years ago, she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, a long-term, chronic progressive deterioration of the heat which often leads to edema, fluid build up around the heart and lungs. Two years ago it became so severe she needed 24 hr oxygen, which she hated, but learned to manage. Last year, pulmonary hypertension was added to the list, and the doctors basically told her the end was somewhere around the corner, but nothing was foreordained. At that point she made the statement to anyone who asked that her goal was to live to see Katarina graduate from high school.
The end started a week ago yesterday, when she fell in the bathroom, and grandpa couldn't pick her up. The fire department was called, and they picked her up and set her in a chair while Ted drove home from Strawberry Music Festival. She was apparently OK, but shaken, However, the next day one of the granddaughters noticed that one of her feet was blue, and cold, and apparently lifeless. She was taken to the hospital in Sonora, where a blood clot in the leg was diagnosed. She then transferred to Doctor's Hospital in Modesto, accompanied by Mark, who had arrived that day from Los Angeles where, it was hoped a vascular surgeon would be able to restore blood flow. We rapidly found it wasn't that easy. By Tuesday, we were told there were basically three options, a clot busting drug called TPA, amputation of the leg above the damaged area, or "comfort care", making sure she was treated for pain while allowing the damaged tissue to slowly kill her.
Taking her expressed wishes to see Kat's graduation in mind, we opted for the TPA treatment, which was administered on Tuesday. After one day, it was observed that while the TPA appeared to have dissolved the clots, the tissue was not re-perfusing with blood, and was continuing to die. After another long discussion, we decided on the amputation and she concurred. As Georgia and I scrambled for airline tickets both Mark and Ted's whole families assembled in Modesto. The amputation was performed while we were in the air. Upon our arrival in Sacramento on Thursday at 4 PM Mark called and informed us that while the surgery had gone OK, afterwards she had developed breathing and heart problems and that it was urgent we arrive quickly if we wanted see her alive. We made it to the hospital by 6 to find Dad, Ted and Mark and all of their families assembled at her bedside in ICU.
I barely recognized her, all shrunken and gasping for air. She was not really conscious but able to react to voices in her ear, and stirred when we announced our presence. She was heavily medicated with a fentanyl drip to kill the pain, and epinephrine to keep her heart rate up. At last we agreed that it was time to let her go, and the epi was stopped. The doctors expected her to pass then in a few hours.
After staying at her side until late in the evening, the boys left to go back to college, we went to a nearby hotel to get a room, while Ted and the girls stayed to sit vigil. The next morning we found her in much the state, in a new room under "comfort care",but obviously fading. We stayed there on and off through the rest of the day, and by evening, Georgia and I were all but exhausted, and we left to get a hotel room again. When I kissed her good night/bye, I noticed she was barely breathing. While we were checking into the motel, we got a call from Ted saying that Kat had noticed she had stopped breathing. We came back to the hospital in time to be there for the official pronunciation, and help with the paperwork. In America, even dying takes proper paperwork. We took Dad back to our hotel room for a night's sleep.
I haven't seen many, but as deaths go, it seemed pretty good. She was surrounded by those who loved her most, the pain was relatively short and heavily treated. At 93, she had outlived most of her friends and relatives.
We're now dealing with the aftermath, making burial, service, and financial arrangements, and trying to set Dad up for life without Mom. While he's a little fuzzy around the edges, he knows what's happened, and that we need to make new arrangements. We'll be here several more days.
The list my mother used to go through when preparing to yell at me about whatever it was I was doing wrong. Mark and Ted are my younger brothers, while Prince was not a rock star but a black and tan German Shepherdish dog that we adopted when I was 12.
“It’s a cognitive mistake we make, which reveals something about who we consider to be in our group,” says Duke University psychology and neuroscience professor David Rubin, one of the study authors. “It’s not just random.”
The new paper, based on five separate surveys of more than 1,700 respondents, appears online in the journal Memory and Cognition.
Many of the patterns didn’t surprise lead author and PhD student Samantha Deffler. One did, though. In addition to mixing up sibling for sibling and daughter for son, study participants frequently called other family members by the name of the family pet—but only when the pet was a dog. Owners of cats or other pets didn’t commit such slips of the tongue.
Deffler says she was surprised how consistent that finding was, and how often it happened. “I’ll preface this by saying I have cats and I love them,” Deffler says. “But our study does seem to add to evidence about the special relationship between people and dogs.
“Also, dogs will respond to their names much more than cats, so those names are used more often. Perhaps because of that, the dog’s name seems to become more integrated with people’s conceptions of their families.”
The deadly Butte fire was fully contained this week after destroying hundreds of homes and scorching 70,868 acres in California’s Gold Country.
After burning for nearly a month in Amador and Calaveras counties, firefighters announced Thursday that they had stamped out the massive blaze.
The fire is the seventh most destructive in state history, consuming nearly 820 structures, more than half homes.
The cause is under investigation, but Pacific Gas & Electric Co. said it may have been started when a power line came into contact with a tree.
Two deaths have been attributed to the Butte fire. Mark McCloud, 66, and Owen Goldsmith, 82, were residents of Mountain Ranch who refused to evacuate.
My sister-in-law Monica and her photographer friend Maria Camillo rode around the area and took some pictures, which I've stolen from Facefook:
Remember, this a human tragedy, but not an ecological one. The land there is a fire climax forest and chaparral community; it will come back fine once the rains return.
Ted and my parents both live in Murphy's, California, currently under threat from the voracious Butte Fire, which has consumed, as of now, something like 71,000 acres. That would be about 3.5 Manhattans for those of you with an East Coast bent. Today, he slowed down enough to write a blog post about it, complete with maps and all:
The fire started Wednesday the 9th, cause unknown, up in Amador County at 2:26PM (I’m sure that means that is when it was first reported) and quickly showed us that its large paws were not just for show. With in 6-7 hours it was over 1,200 acres, and then the next day it got into the kibble.
From my memory, by early Thursday it was somewhere north of 15,000 acres and by Friday at 1300 I was leaving work to pack up and evacuate. As I write this the town of Murphys is still under an “Evacuation’s Advisory” . . .
Click to enlarge
Today things are looking up, at least a little:
Today, unlike the last 3 days, there is little smoke and only light ash falling on us, unfortunately the winds have picked up here in Murphys. It seems to be from the South however so that should keep the fire from us even while it feeds it. As long as the wind does not shift we should be OK.
Currently they are calling the fire at 71,063 acres and 30% contained. 135 homes destroyed as well as 79 outbuildings.
Monika and I personally know at least 10 family’s, friends and co-workers mostly, who know that their homes have been destroyed. Several more still don’t know.
