I just played this great game on Fuse's website -- you can throw pies at Tim Eyman! A great cure for the Tim Eyman blues . Eyman Meet Pieman
the site has great info on candidates for state office and judges
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
a day in the garden
i made an interesting discovery today...and now i know why i was stung trying to open the overgrown trail by the fence.....i tried to film the filbert crop being set but don't think i actually captured it...and finally the pond with the new shoreline revision in progress.....and i will determine what the actual level is now that the fawcet is replaced.
bald-faced hornet here
bald-faced hornet here
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Jackson Browne and friends
From the DVD "Going Home"
This is one of my favorite Jackson Browne's song...
I hope you'll Like it ...
LIVES IN THE BALANCE
I've been waiting for something to happen
For a week or a month or a year
With the blood in the ink of the headlines
And the sound of the crowd in my ear
You might ask what it takes to remember
When you know that you've seen it before
Where a government lies to a people
And a country is drifting to war
And there's a shadow on the faces
Of the men who send the guns
To the wars that are fought in places
Where their business interest runs
On the radio talk shows and the T.V.
You hear one thing again and again
How the U.S.A. stands for freedom
And we come to the aid of a friend
But who are the ones that we call our friends--
These governments killing their own?
Or the people who finally can't take any more
And they pick up a gun or a brick or a stone
There are lives in the balance
There are people under fire
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire
There's a shadow on the faces
Of the men who fan the flames
Of the wars that are fought in places
Where we can't even say the names
They sell us the President the same way
They sell us our clothes and our cars
They sell us every thing from youth to religion
The same time they sell us our wars
I want to know who the men in the shadows are
I want to hear somebody asking them why
They can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are
But they're never the ones to fight or to die
And there are lives in the balance
There are people under fire
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire
(c) 1986 SWALLOW TURN MUSIC, ASCAP
Category: Music
Tags: Jackson Browne Lives in the Balance David lindley Crosby Still Nash Young Eagles Against The War
another version.....
and this version still says it !! ENOUGH!!!!!!
Saturday, July 19, 2008
President Gore
we need real leadership to save the planet for those who come after and time is running out. he suggests we "tax what we burn, not what we earn." he challenges us to stop the broken system that favors the greedy special interests who are taking us full speed ahead to the destruction of the planet as they enrich themselves as never before. i hope we will be able stop them and do the right thing.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
cool story
Edith Macefield, 1921-2008: Ballard woman held her ground as change closed in around her
By KATHY MULADYP-I REPORTER
Edith Macefield died at home, just the way she wanted.
Read the P-I's original story about Edith Macefield
The Ballard woman who captured hearts and admirers around the world when she stubbornly turned down $1 million to sell her home to make way for a commercial development died Sunday of pancreatic cancer. She was 86.
"I don't want to move. I don't need the money. Money doesn't mean anything," she told the Seattle P-I in October.
She continued living in the little old house in the 1400 block of Northwest 46th Street even after concrete walls rose around her, coming within a few feet of her kitchen window. Cranes towered over her roof. Macefield turned up the television or her favorite opera music a little louder and stayed put.
"I went through World War II, the noise doesn't bother me," she said in October. "They'll get it done someday."
Macefield's stubbornness was cheered by Ballard residents tired of watching the blue-collar neighborhood disappear under condominiums and trendy restaurants. Her story was picked up by the national news and spread around the world.
In the last year of her life, she forged an unlikely friendship with a kindred soul, Barry Martin, the senior superintendent on the construction project engulfing her home. They met when he started working at the site.
It started with an offer to drive her to the hairdresser, then a doctor's appointment. He made sure she had food, ran to get groceries for her, picked up prescriptions, cooked her dinner.
She had been ill off and on for the last year or so, recovering from a serious fall, and bouts of the flu. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in April.
During her last days, Martin said he made sure that she was comfortable at home.
"She got to do it the way she wanted to do it," Martin said. "She had already made up her mind, and that's the way it was going to be."
He still wonders what drew him to the cranky, stubborn woman who seemed to do all she could to discourage friends or visitors.
"I think we were a lot alike. I am stubborn and so was she. We had some incredible arguments," Martin said. "She was amazingly smart."
It's unclear what will happen now to the tiny two-bedroom, two-story house built in 1900. Macefield said she doesn't have any relatives. Her only child, a son, died of meningitis at 13.
Martin isn't holding out much hope for the old house. It leans seriously to one side, he said. "I straighten the pictures every time I come over," he said.
"Eventually it will all go to progress."
Macefield planned her burial, picked out a casket and made it clear she didn't want a funeral or fuss or flowers. People can donate to the Humane Society, she told Martin last week.
With her attention to detail, it seems likely Macefield left a will, but in respect for Macefield's privacy, Martin doesn't want to talk about it, and isn't saying where she will be buried.
When Macefield's story first ran in the P-I, her home was swarmed by news reporters from around the country trying to get her to open her front door. Word of her death brought another crush of cameras to the street in front of her house.
Her aged blue car is still parked in front of the house, her collection of glass animals still lined up on the windowsills.
People remembering her said they were inspired by her spirit and spunk; by her choice to live simply in her small home, the way she wanted.
Others suggested that the lot where her home stands could be turned into a small memorial park, a pocket of green among the concrete.
Her life story is as intriguing and curious as the sight of the concrete parking garage rising around her home.
Some wonder at her stories, hinting at being a spy during World War II and touring with some of the most famous big bands of the day. She talked about attending teas and dances, once finding herself in conversation with Adolf Hitler.
Her friends never doubted a word.
Macefield said she was born in Oregon, and raised in Seattle and New Orleans, by her mother and two doting godfathers who shared their talents with her. One was a writer, the other sang and danced, and taught her French. She later learned German and several other languages, she said.
Macefield's stubborn streak led her to join the service while still in high school. She told her mother she was going to college. The young woman was already in England when officials figured out she wasn't 18 and threw her out of the service, she said.
But in love, she remained in England where she cared for war orphans. She returned to the U.S. to care for her mother until she died. She worked at Washington Dental Services, when its office was on Market Street in Ballard.
She loved opera, national politics, writing and old movies. She adored animals, and could be seen almost every day standing outside her front yard tossing out seeds for the birds.
"Once she told me it felt as if she had lived three lifetimes," Martin said. "It is interesting that one person could do so many things, then come to Ballard and live so quietly."
P-I reporter Kathy Mulady can be reached at 206-448-8029 or kathymulady@seattlepi.com.
By KATHY MULADYP-I REPORTER
Edith Macefield died at home, just the way she wanted.
Read the P-I's original story about Edith Macefield
The Ballard woman who captured hearts and admirers around the world when she stubbornly turned down $1 million to sell her home to make way for a commercial development died Sunday of pancreatic cancer. She was 86.
"I don't want to move. I don't need the money. Money doesn't mean anything," she told the Seattle P-I in October.
She continued living in the little old house in the 1400 block of Northwest 46th Street even after concrete walls rose around her, coming within a few feet of her kitchen window. Cranes towered over her roof. Macefield turned up the television or her favorite opera music a little louder and stayed put.
"I went through World War II, the noise doesn't bother me," she said in October. "They'll get it done someday."
Macefield's stubbornness was cheered by Ballard residents tired of watching the blue-collar neighborhood disappear under condominiums and trendy restaurants. Her story was picked up by the national news and spread around the world.
In the last year of her life, she forged an unlikely friendship with a kindred soul, Barry Martin, the senior superintendent on the construction project engulfing her home. They met when he started working at the site.
It started with an offer to drive her to the hairdresser, then a doctor's appointment. He made sure she had food, ran to get groceries for her, picked up prescriptions, cooked her dinner.
She had been ill off and on for the last year or so, recovering from a serious fall, and bouts of the flu. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in April.
During her last days, Martin said he made sure that she was comfortable at home.
"She got to do it the way she wanted to do it," Martin said. "She had already made up her mind, and that's the way it was going to be."
He still wonders what drew him to the cranky, stubborn woman who seemed to do all she could to discourage friends or visitors.
"I think we were a lot alike. I am stubborn and so was she. We had some incredible arguments," Martin said. "She was amazingly smart."
It's unclear what will happen now to the tiny two-bedroom, two-story house built in 1900. Macefield said she doesn't have any relatives. Her only child, a son, died of meningitis at 13.
Martin isn't holding out much hope for the old house. It leans seriously to one side, he said. "I straighten the pictures every time I come over," he said.
"Eventually it will all go to progress."
Macefield planned her burial, picked out a casket and made it clear she didn't want a funeral or fuss or flowers. People can donate to the Humane Society, she told Martin last week.
With her attention to detail, it seems likely Macefield left a will, but in respect for Macefield's privacy, Martin doesn't want to talk about it, and isn't saying where she will be buried.
When Macefield's story first ran in the P-I, her home was swarmed by news reporters from around the country trying to get her to open her front door. Word of her death brought another crush of cameras to the street in front of her house.
Her aged blue car is still parked in front of the house, her collection of glass animals still lined up on the windowsills.
People remembering her said they were inspired by her spirit and spunk; by her choice to live simply in her small home, the way she wanted.
Others suggested that the lot where her home stands could be turned into a small memorial park, a pocket of green among the concrete.
Her life story is as intriguing and curious as the sight of the concrete parking garage rising around her home.
Some wonder at her stories, hinting at being a spy during World War II and touring with some of the most famous big bands of the day. She talked about attending teas and dances, once finding herself in conversation with Adolf Hitler.
Her friends never doubted a word.
Macefield said she was born in Oregon, and raised in Seattle and New Orleans, by her mother and two doting godfathers who shared their talents with her. One was a writer, the other sang and danced, and taught her French. She later learned German and several other languages, she said.
Macefield's stubborn streak led her to join the service while still in high school. She told her mother she was going to college. The young woman was already in England when officials figured out she wasn't 18 and threw her out of the service, she said.
But in love, she remained in England where she cared for war orphans. She returned to the U.S. to care for her mother until she died. She worked at Washington Dental Services, when its office was on Market Street in Ballard.
She loved opera, national politics, writing and old movies. She adored animals, and could be seen almost every day standing outside her front yard tossing out seeds for the birds.
"Once she told me it felt as if she had lived three lifetimes," Martin said. "It is interesting that one person could do so many things, then come to Ballard and live so quietly."
P-I reporter Kathy Mulady can be reached at 206-448-8029 or kathymulady@seattlepi.com.
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