No Rest for the Weary

Woodson Granodiorite

Today Smelly Man dragged me all over San Diego County.  We started out looking for something called a Poway Clast--I thought this was a bird so I wasted two hours staring at the sky.  The Clast turns out to be a rock from a Mexican volcano that deposited in dried up riverbed which then got scraped off the North American plate and yanked about 150 miles north.

Next we bagged the Tonalite of Alpine which looked pretty much like a rock to me. We dipped on the Mount Chiquito Monzogranite when a crazy old bastard yelled at us from his bolt-on front porch.  Turns out there is a public road, about 1/8 of private road, and then the public road starts again.  This according the Forest Service who are afraid of this Luddite conspiracy-theorist.  I was all for pushing forward but SM was too chicken.   

So we retreated but then we had to drive 30 minutes to Mount Woodson for some Woodson Mountain Granodiorite which also looked a lot like a rock.  I did manage a snooze, a siesta, a nap, and a catnap; also, the Nice Lady kept the idiots at home-so all in all not a bad day.  


The bedrock of Woodson Mountain is Woodson Mountain Granodiorite. The specks of mafic minerals (dark-colored minerals rich in iron and magnesium), are mostly biotite (or black mica) and hornblende.  The dominant minerals are quartz (30%), plagioclase (50%), and alkali feldspar (20%). 

GW Would Not be Proud

The phone service in Mt. Vernon is certainly a premium one, but after paying two big ones for a month of phone service, at least one can relax knowing there are no catches!

Mt. Vernon was pretty quiet, not as much colonial or Washingtonian flavor as one might expect.  Excellent service at Applebee's however as I got a bowl of water and some steak trimmings from the nice waitress.  Smelly Man liked the 9th Street Grill better I think but the floors were perfectly devoid of foofstuffs.  Smelled good, though.    The people at the hospital were quite nice except for the old man who scowled at me.  I just gave him a nice smile and lifted one ear to show him that there is a better way to live one's life.  The Saint Louis Airport has a special place for four-legs to make water so that is nice.  No such luck at DFW.  I say DFW stands for Deficient F---- Wasteland,  but Smelly Man complains my language is attrocious.

LOOOONNNGGGG Weekend

Home with both Two-Legs and the idiots for three days.   Everyone stunk so baths were in order for the crew.  Wadsworth doesn't much care for cleaning but Rudy is a good boy in the sink.   This week we are going to Mt. Vernon--another disappointment as it isn't THAT Mt. Vernon but the town in Illinois.  I'm expecting big excitement this week with Michelle at Crossroads; she has her own crop-duster and I am going for a ride in the jump-seat.  After that I think we don't have to go the cornfields for a while.

We went to brunch at Daisy's house.  She's very conceited about her looks; I guess there are people who are attracted to cute and bouncy.

I miss Miss Janet, and Mr. Jim, and Miss Tiare, and Miss Trish a lot.  It is hard on a small animal to have to make new friends every week.  Bacon is always nice.  

Leavin' Las Vegas

This week we took the air car to Las Vegas.  It did not live up to expectations.  First, there were no casinos and I was quite giddy at the prospect of video slots as, lacking opposable thumbs, the slot lever is tough for me.  Turns out it was not THAT Las Vegas, but Las Vegas, New Mexico, a lovely little town with many nice two-legs and one old grumpus.   We stayed at the Plaza Hotel in downtown with the mostest longest staircase on record, twenty-six steps of deep-pile carpet.  The ladies at the front desk were kind enough to give me my due, adoration and homage.  Smelly Man had to work at the hospital all day, so I was able to nap, drowse, snooze, and doze until dinner time.  We met a nice lady at the hospital who dropped a piece of bacon.  I made short work of that! I completed a novella "Fur and Loving in Las Vegas", slated for publication by Penquin in October.

Goodbye for Now

Anna

We flew back to St Louis in the air car last week and had a big time visiting the cultural highlights of Anna, Illinois.  The most bestest part was the one-hog cemetery on Highway 126.  King Neptune, War Bond Pig, is interred there.  He once had his squeal auctioned off for $25.

We also visited the site of the Lincoln-Douglas debate.   There were two metal men there who wanted to pose with me, so I let them.  They are supposed elocutionary genii, but neither one of them volunteered a word.

Burial Site - Still Smells Like Pig! 

Too Tall!