Wednesday we heard Mick’s tale of an attempted robbery of his UPS truck on the rez and that very night experienced an epidemic of endemic yahoos spotlighting and shooting rabbits out on the County Road to such an extent that I called the Sheriff, but calling the Sheriff proved pointless as dispatch lacked the competence to get any kind of coherent message through.  The shooters returned and, shooting, disappeared south; we went uneasily to bed and in the morning walked our usual half mile around the ponds, magpies ’n’ all.

That night listening to “Miles at the Blackhawk” [and wow what a good recording for the time!] thinking wow how wired they were, oh yeah…a credit to that hipster drug in those faraway and relatively innocent days. Nonetheless, after many months in, I took the music out of rotation as Wednesday’s shooters and unsuccessful Sheriff attempts called for mellower entertainments…

The week went on, warming; another rat applied for relocation, various Arab states now want to boycott Qatar for fomenting terrorism [is that because the U.S has bases there or because

they talk with the Israelis?] and the warming continued

frogs loving it.

Another rat, another relocation

and home

to a Gustonian knee in the studio.

The other studio;

Monday we took advantage of the first REALLY hot day for a last run to Alturas,

quickly

past the County Crew finally setting up to repair winter’s washout at Wall Canyon and up

the deserted desert highway, longingly looking east into farthest northern Nevada, a place I didn’t make it to this trip, nor did we ever connect with any of our friends up that way, either.

A vague rare view of Shasta across the piney plateaus coming over Cedar Pass had to suffice

as Linda called Luz on his birthday from the Holiday while I loaded up the week’s foods before another lunch at Nuch’s.  Ninety-four Fahrenheit recrossing the Pass and after gas south

without pause to Gerlach for L’s weekly parts delivery at the Post Office [not shown].

The house was 88, the east porch 98 and the west one 108.  Not a lot got done albeit a silver train wobbling down the desert through the heat was…

over there.

Tuesday the fires near Nixon sent smoke all the way up here as we walked late, a rattlesnake [not shown] in the path giving Aggie pause. Regarding reptiles she knows

the difference; a good day to Shelter in Place.

The monkeys in the bushes are all, after all, quail, of which we have an abundance at present.

last week comin’ up, same/same.

M