My fuzzy one is getting to be an old lady, turning 11 today. Last year I posted a slideshow of her and some of her best links. This year I ask for your help in my world’s cutest husky spam-a-thon. Have a blog? Give her a birthday link. Don’t have a blog? Join her fan club and fave a few of her pics. Nothing would make her happier.
Ok actually a ton of stuff would make her happier. Like meat. Or smelling the tree out front. Or belly rubs, snuffing under snow, dead squirrels, waking me up at 5am, etc. Today we took a birthday trip to the park looking for as many of those things as possible. It was grand.
After yesterday’s fun little april fools (which suckered a surprising number of people on facebook), I started feeling a little sad about how excited I felt about this hypothetical non-existent puppy when my real critter was lonesome at home all day. So here’s a drivable wall of her photos, courtesy of cool iris. Hiya world’s cutest husky! You are so not being replaced!! Drag the little slider at the bottom to the right to go zooming along…
Today’s the day my flickr pro account expires. Thirteen months ago I mentioned when I hit 10,000 views. As of this morning I’m at 57,000. How can I not renew with quantification of self-worth like that? It’s a funny time we live in, when everyone I meet is certifiably ADHD, no one (myself included) can make it through a meal without the omnipresent iPhone coming out for this or that time&soul-sucking reason, and the briefest snippets of anonymous attention is the only currency that matters. That and comments. Leave comments.
BTW, I’m still making moderate success in my “world’s cutest husky” spam campaign. I get quite a few hits through google image search on that term, but recently got my first through yahoo image search (which I wasn’t really aware existed). As of this posting, Maija is one picture short of being EVERY SINGLE PHOTO on the front page of results for that term. It’s the little things, you know.
Today is miss maija’s (tenth) birthday! She’s gotten so old on me all of a sudden – I don’t remember this being part of the deal I signed up for when we first started hanging out together. Granted, that was back in the last millenium. Ten years gives her more seniority than dang near most everyone else I know. We’ve come a hecka long way (literally, figuratively) from the backwaters of Athens, Georgia, where I taught her how to swim and hunt us up a mess of squirbles for breakfast. It’s a sad sign of the times that for her big birthday present this year, I’ve decided to not drag her along on this weekend’s long run, despite the many, many gopher holes I know are along the route.
Also, an entirely gratuitous bonus birthday slideshow from my maija flickr set. Or if you’d rather, you can check it here in full screen. And a promise, after today, no more dog stuffs for a while.
Yesterday was National Running Day so the dogbrake and I did a midweek 8 to celebrate. It was surprisingly warm out, finally fog free, some welcoming summer sun. The run was unremarkable until near the end, where we found the wind coming off Ocean Beach to be in full-on sandblast mode.
Along the sea wall there are a series of stairwells down to the beach, some of which fill up with sand forming a ski jump-like spout for the rest of their gritty neighbors to ride up and out of, into the face of everyone passing by. So despite gorgeous, magic hour lighting at sunset, turning to look towards the water was not really an eyesight preserving option.
Eventually, DPW will send a truck out and someone will languorously shovel the sand that builds up on the sidewalk back to the beach through these smaller spouts that must be designed just for this. They don’t worry about job security – the wind is always going to blow in from the ocean, making its incremental effort to inch San Francisco eastward. Will this work? Look at the geographic change in the last 15,000 years. It almost seems inevitable that, given enough time, all of this will eventually just blow away.
But for now, we keep our heads down and earn back our elevation up along the cliffs, turn east along Point Lobos, the wind now at our backs and gravity taking us the rest of the way home.
I vacuumed this morning. I vacuumed yesterday. I’m vacuuming again right now. I’m embarrassed to walk her down the street in the wind due to the hairy cloud enveloping everyone within a block. It’s time for the annual dunk in boiling water. Or failing that I’m open to other suggestions.
I don’t usually run with a camera. Running is a sweaty mess prone to being interrupted by rain and sandstorms and between managing the dog’s gopher-lunges, her collection of poop bags and trying not to lose my keys I’ve got enough junk to carry. But given that we were so very lazy today and didn’t get out for a planned photowalk I rigged up a contraption to bring the TZ5 with me.
I was reading something in Salon the other day on the variation in range of human field of vision, depending on velocity.
When you walk, your field of vision is nearly 180 degrees, 140 degrees of which feeds your awareness. The Optometrists Association of Australia reports that human field of vision “is reduced with increasing speed.” For example, at 62 mph, field of vision contracts to 40 degrees.
Given my average running speed and bloodflow diversion I wouldn’t be surprised if my running field of vision is somewhere between 15 and 20 degrees. So it was nice to make a few conscious decisions to stop, look at things, try to make a small visual record. I have one of the most gorgeous running routes on the planet, yet over time I need to remind myself of that now and again.
This week brought in another donation in my Youth Run4Fun fundraiser – thanks hondo! That donation was doubled, leaving me at 34% of my $250 goal. Here’s my mileage update – it was a good week! This will serve to preemptively counter next week’s inevitable Red Sox related decline…
My recent interest in plant derived poisons isn’t so much out of concern for myself as it is for the critter in the household. Over the last week or so, she’s shifted into high plant consumption mode, reverse peristalsis consequences be damned. I have patiently tried to explain to her that we as a society have gone to great lengths to process all the old and tired racehorses into little kibble pellets for a reason, but she insists on snarfing up greenery like a cloven-hoofed ungulate. This isn’t completely novel behavior but it’s been a few years since she’s done this, and the persistence and aggressiveness related to the current phenomenon is unlike anything she’s shown before. I’m tempted to assume there was some sort of vegan brainwashing that went on between her and my recent houseguest.
The newest awesomeness from over at the Maija Nell Fan Club pool, part of YJP’s 365. For a minute there, I thought she was trying to poison my dog with nasty vegetables! My 365 still has her beat when we calculate the relevant “world’s cutest husky” per thousand photos ratios.
Every so often I feel the need to explicitly come clean and face the reality that this blog exists entirely for the purpose of posting the dog pictures I can’t squeeze in elsewhere. Likewise, the only point to Daylight Saving Time is to allow more light to take said pictures. Even though I left work late today, there was somehow magically enough light to make it home, make it down to Ocean Beach, wear out the critter and throw in a stop at the grocery store before sunset. Wonderful.
I’m filling out the paperwork to get some new car insurance (exciting? no.) when I noticed this bit about pet insurance tucked away in the collision coverage section.
In the unfortunate even that your pet dies in the accident, we’ll give you up to $500 to find a new pet.
I hate them now. We don’t want your damn blood money. Stay away from my dog and my emotions.
My POTDs have been kinda sucking it up as of late as once again I find myself stuck in deadly boring cycle of work/darkness/lack of friends within a two thousand mile radius. Fortunately, the new Maija Nell Fan Club is BLOWIN’ UP. Seven members! That’s bigger than our friggin’ Jingle Blast turnout. Bigger than DOG-A-PALOOZA! BIGGER THAN SCROWYARRR!!!
Since it’s easier to blame equipment for mediocre results than my motivation or opportunity, I’ve decided throwing money at the problem is the most logical solution. I’m not sure if a half month’s rent, a full month’s, or trading in my car’s worth of irresponsibility will do the trick. Stay tuned for critical updates.
I’m guessing after a week away from me and running wild through the hills of Marin with her new pack mmmja isn’t going to want to come back to the tight quarters of urban studio living. Well tough stuff sorry frog you don’t get no choice in the matter. Enjoy your last hours of freedom…
The dog seems to have survived her seven hours in the American Airlines gulag well. There’s no visible physical and minor psychological damage (we’ll be able to work through that in counseling). We got in late last night and (your bed vs my bed issues aside) have been getting along pretty well, sorting out our respective positions with regards to the new living situation. I say I’m the boss, she says someone who claims to be the boss should be able to shut off the damn heat. I’m also re-remembering why I like the forced mobility of having a puppy all over again. Today we walked a prospective running route down through Golden Gate Park, past a buffalo pen that eventually will provide material for a better cross-over post tagged both as charasmatic megafauna and urban wildlife. We also found a pretty cheap nine hole public golf course on the other side of the buffalo (key phrase with ambiguous interpretation: Alcohol must be purchased on premises). Then on to Ocean Beach where we ran into a two hundred person mob of what must have been a yappy dog meetup (none taller than six inches allowed?). My peoples are not so organized yet. All in all a good day #1. Tomorrow, The Presidio!
Totally psyched. We’ve finally finished porting the rest of CNHB’s photos over to the hevelonian reboot and in the process have been exploring the enhanced options of our tagging system. Why does this matter? As of right now we’re rocking 1226 posts & 662 different tags, meaning if you’re interested in becoming the world’s foremost expert in a topic we specialize in (say, the Boston Marathon), you’d have to deal with an obscenely large number of posts on that topic, sorted by recency. So it can be helpful to use more complicated tagging calls to drill down to what you’re specifically interested in.
To get photos from one person, we’re use categories. Here are my mother’s, father’s, etc.
We can look at tags just within a person’s shots. For instance, CNHB’s shots of maija.
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