Home from school

It's late and I'm home from class. This evening 9:00 pm on the SMC campus, the fog was rolling in from the coast - you could see it drifting under the beams of the street lights.

I got my first test back. I got an "A"!

Spoofed

My gmail account got spoofed, so if you received a strange email from me this morning, just delete it. I've changed my settings and I hope that will be the end of it.

A mystery

There's a strange mystery afoot in my neighborhood.

Almost everyone who lives in my neighborhood has a dog, and we've met most of our neighbors while dog-walking. No one likes dog-poop in their yard, so it's considered polite to pick up after your dog. Most people carry plastic bags for the job.

Committed dog owners live with multiple stashes of plastic bags. One tied to loop on the leash, one in the jacket pocket, a couple in the glove-box of the car....we all have them.

One neighbor gave out these clever dispensers of dog-poop bags as a Christmas gift this year. I notice that one civic-minded neighbor has hung one of these dispensers on her street-side fence, for the use of passers by.

It's not pleasant to pick up dog poop with your hand inside a plastic bag, but it's better than leaving it on your neighbor's property.

But lately I've been noticing this:

Someone is bagging the dog-poop, but leaving it on the street. I've seen this three times now.

The first time I saw this I was mystified - and I still am. Almost every house has street-side garbage bins, so if you pick up your dog's poop, you can easily find a convenient garbage bin to stow it in.

Sometimes your dog just chooses an inconvenient spot to do his business. I've had to walk several yards, holding a steaming, reeking knotted bag at arms length, but I always eventually find a bin.

Why would someone bag their dog's poop, and then leave it by the side of the road? Wouldn't it be better to just leave it to decompose, if you're not going to dispose of it?

Cheesecake poses

Sometimes Jack looks like he's posing for a photoshoot.

 He could be a centerfold!

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

How could anyone resist that look?

Happy Leap Day!

It's an extra day. Make the most of it!

PROMPTuesday

Deb at San Diego Momma posts writing prompts each Tuesday. It's a great way to get your creative juices flowing.

Deb sends us on a trip this PROMPTuesday - to Chicago.  Joe at "The Write Practice" makes it simple.

Write about Chicago.
Write for fifteen minutes.

Retreat from Spring

Grey afternoon at Palisades Park, Santa Monica.

After a beautiful Sunday, Monday was cold, rainy, and windy. What is it about our weather? My French class meets on Monday and Wednesday evenings at Santa Monica College.

Last night, the wind was whipping palm-tree husks around the grounds of the college, and gusts of wind ambushed pedestrians around the massive concrete corners of the campus buildings. As much as I appreciate the accessibility of Santa Monica College, it is not an attractive campus - built in a kind of massive, concrete Soviet-style architecture, the dominant street-feature of the college is a massive parking garage.

These days, many aspiring students rely on community colleges for access to education. Students who may not be sure about interests and ambitions can take basic classes and then transfer to a four-year college once they've figured it out. Working students can attend community college on a part-time basis. Returning adult students can complete a degree or improve a lack-luster GPA. And in a time where four-year college tuition is going up, community college is still affordable.

My French 2 class, which is good for five credits, costs $36 a credit - or $180. Of course, there are fees for "student services" and if you want a parking decal, it's $85 for the semester. And the cost of textbooks is outrageous - I spent over $100 on two USED books. Still, it's a pretty good bargain, if you want an education.

If you haven't been in a college classroom for a while, it's an eye-opener. When you're 57 years old, it feels weird to sit in a plastic chair attached to a little formica desk. The classrooms are plain, unadorned, anonymous beige cells with a white board, and multiple signs prohibiting food and drink, warning against removing desks, and offering emergency phone numbers. The classrooms are clean, though, I'll grant that. Unlike the restrooms, which are a horror of crumpled toilet paper, empty towel dispensers, and puddles of indeterminate liquid on the floors.

I don't know whether these conditions exist at the UC or CSU system schools, or the private colleges in Los Angeles. And I know budget situations are dire. Perhaps the restrooms are cleaner during the day - I only see them after six pm - perhaps the evening custodial shift was eliminated from this year's operating budget.

No, it's a far cry from the picturesque ivy-covered halls that graced even the midwestern land-grant state college I recall from my undergraduate years.

My classmates represent a spectrum of today's college student. Most are young, but some are older, like me. There is a wide range of ethnicity - from African-American kids to the children of Russian and Eastern European immigrants; there's a Vietnamese kid who was born in Paris, Latino kids; a pierced and tattooed white girl with pink hair; a clean-cut ex-military man; a chic Iranian girl with perfect make-up. I'm not sure what they think of the old lady in the front row.

The one thing they all have in common is that they are working hard to get their education, under challenging circumstances. And in the face of budget cuts and diminishing resources, Santa Monica College is there for them to do it.

Sunday in the park

Why it's called "Red Rock."

Yesterday was a glorious day - an unclouded sky, bright sunshine, not too hot but not cold. We took a walk through Red Rock Canyon. It's been a while since we've done this - and our walk made us realize how much we missed it.

It is spring, after all, and things are just starting to grow. Here is a shoot from A Humboldt lily - lilium humboldtii - growing on a hillside overlooking the road.

Fuschia-flowered currants are in bloom, their bright red flowers like dangling earrings.

The California lilac - ceonathus species - were just starting to bloom. These are large evergreen shrubs, and many different species of them grow in our canyon. The bloom-time varies from species to species, and so does the intensity of the blossoms.

click to "embiggen"

Red Rock Canyon is dramatic evidence of the power of water, wind, and the heaving of the earth to shape the landscape. This giant boulder of red sandstone rises above a series of wind-carved caves, and is a favorite place to explore for adventurous families. It looks scarey, but it's easy enough for kids and even dogs to climb and enjoy the view.

In February, flowers are just starting to bloom - these California lupines were in a sheltered rocky place that must hold the warmth of the sun and coax them into early bloom.

The rocks are a pretty mauve-pink color.

On the edge of bloom - the California native peony - Paeonia californica - lifts still-closed buds up from its pretty foliage. I'll come back next week and see if it's opened fully.

Every time I set out into the landscape, I am grateful that I live here.

Reading homework

Bridal shop, S. Broadway, downtown Los Angeles

 And just as I sit down and work on mes devoirs (my French homework) I have an assignment for you.

I don't know Amanda Ching. Never heard of her before this morning. But she's a helluva writer. 

If you are following the political discussion about contraception, "personhood" legislation, and the recent attempts by the state of Virginia to mandate unnecessary medical procedures for women, you might enjoy this short story. If you like science fiction, or feminist fiction, or what someone in the comments calls Abortion Speculative Fiction, you might enjoy this. If you just like well-written thriller-type short stories, you might enjoy this.

ILU-486

Go on and read it, and let me know what you think.