Rats!

     The other day I said to my favorite person, "hey, we should get a wild animal." I throw this erroneous idea out every few months which usually results in me going on about how our dog would love the company and how we could build it a cozy fort within our house. My species suggestions are usually of the jungle or safari type like lemurs or meerkats — the other day it was a wolf, because I saw one at Chipotle. I even asked Google to show my fave some images of wolves, which along with my sales pitch earned a small response. It didn't earn me a wolf, but that's okay, because what we didn't know at the time was that we already have some wild animals.

Our once prosperous basil plant (PandP)

    And only a wild animal could be responsible for reversing photosynthesis on my basil plant and reducing it's size by a fifth of what it once was. 

My leafless bamboo plant (PandP)

     And only a wild animal, or a pack of them could be to blame for shearing off the leaves and shoots of my bamboo plant that once made such a soothing sound in the wind.

Two wild animals nesting in my barbecue (PandP)

     Ah ha, it took a while, but I finally have some wild animals. I went out on the balcony the other day to water the plants and thought it was strange that we didn't have any more plants to water. And I thought it was odd that the beach towels hanging out to dry had holes in them that I never noticed before. And when I noticed that our barbecue was really dirty and had palm tree remnants closed in it's lid, I thought — either my fave has been burning our yard waste in the grill, or we have a new pet.
     So I crept up slowly on my barbecue with my iCamera and gently lifted the lid only to discover that we have wild animals that already know how to make a fort of their own. What a disappointment. I always thought the best part of having an animal like this would be to borrow out a wall or a piece of furniture to make them comfortable.
     As you'd imagine, I don't quite know what to do with these creative fort builders. I've considered some of my options and am close to concluding that the best one just give the grill to the rats and move it elsewhere so they don't continue to eliminate my plants and flowers. What do you think is the most humane solution? I'll keep you updated as the drama unfolds.

Self Incrimination

     Every time I leave for a road ride my favorite person asks to be careful and reminds me not to ride too close to cars. And I always keep the dangers of this sport Lycra close, however, I also believe that if you ride scared you are much more likely to end up as someone's decorative hood ornament. The other day I was going on our usual weeknight Fro Yo run and she even threw out the "don't call me until you're off the bike," precaution. With that said — here I am riding alongside Highway 17 during a recent group ride using my iCamera to snap a photo of my friend Chad, who come to find out didn't have his rear skewer fastened. 

The shoulder of Highway 17 (PandP)

     This certainly isn't my normal route home from the Santa Cruz Mountains, but it just so happened that I was riding in the back of the peloton most of the day on a ride where there was little-to-no collaborating on which direction to ride. Whoever was leading seemed to just choose whatever ridiculous direction they wanted. Fortunately we were only on the highway for about a quarter mile, and it's a good thing this guy wearing a hydration pack never made his way to the front.

Thirsty guy (PandP)

If he had we probably would have leaned our bikes against some trees and hiked up the nearest deer trail to his swimming hole. This guy is probably my favorite cyclist of all time, especially in the
Fall and Winter when he shows up to ride with his Mag Light taped to the handlebars of his mountain bike.
     It ended up being a great ride and at just a little under 40 miles my legs weren't too damaged for the rest of the weekend. I am glad it went so well, and now I'll have a fond memory of what my second to last bike ride was like because I am pretty sure all of my bikes will be sold within the next few days once my favorite person reads this post. At least I'll have more time to blog.

The Great Flower Exchange

     There's something different going on in our house these days, and it smells kind of nice. I mean we're still up the usual strange stuff but lately we've started exchanging flowers on a regular basis. A few weeks ago I brought home some flowers for my favorite person for the first time ever according to her. I don't buy it, and I am pretty sure I've bought her flowers before but to my credit we've only been together for about 10 years so it's not like there have been that many opportunities. And how would I know she even likes flowers — it's not like she has a flower tattoo with my name or anything.

Not real flowers, but a tattoo of them

      Sorry for the shoddy photo, she moves fast when she's bare and being chased by a camera. So then, the next week I bought her even prettier flowers because they went over so well the first time, and what do I come home to yesterday.

Pansies from my two favorite people 

      I know she's never given me flowers before even though she claims she has, but I am no pansy and would certainly remember if I she gave me flowers in the past. And I asked Google — they're not pansies like she said they are, but she obviously thinks I am one. The cute spin to these ridiculous few weeks is that we now have our almost three-year-old wanting to buy flowers at the grocery store, and picking me flowers when we ride our bikes to the park.

Here Dad

And as I finally discovered, the flowers were her idea to begin with. I guess if I want flowers I know who to ask. This brings us to a final flower-giving count for August of Me 2, Sydney 2 and my favorite person 0.
     To move on from the flowers, we recently took a trip across the Pacific to spend some time doing nothing, however, I came across this peculiar bird.

Bird of Paradise

And the closer you look at this Bird of Paradise you come to the realization that this is no bird at all, but rather a flower. Much like this one.

Another flower

     I would like to end with this — San Jose's greatest vegetable garden. No flowers in site but some of the largest zucchinis and cucumbers you'll ever see.

Big George's Big Cucumber Garden