Nature's symphony

There is something hypnotic about hummingbirds.

The sound of their wings.

The flashes of their colors.

The speed of their flight.

It all adds up to something much greater than its parts.

They don't just hover. They dance.

They don't just fly. They dart.

They are here and then they are not.

Yesterday we moved one of the feeders into the sun.

(I took these with just my phone. Sometimes I wish I had a real camera...but then again, I am not allowed around office equipment so I doubt that the outcome would have been as good.)

They darted and danced and screamed at each other. It was an aerial ballet with nature's symphony. 

Pretty as a Picture

This morning seemed like a good time to check on the water tank. 

It hadn't gotten hot yet and Zelda wanted to walk.

So, up we went.

Today, unlike most days climbing our little mountain, the landscape was awash in color. Lots of color. 

Which, of course, meant I had to take pictures.

Wild flowers at the bottom of the hill

 Going up doesn't look as steep as it feels! (And those are poppies and little white snow flowers!)

Young California Poppies

 And we tread lightly to avoid the poppies.

Zelda sniffing snow flowers

I have to walk behind Zelda to keep her going. Otherwise, her nose will lead her to lots of strange places.

View to the  East from the top of the "mountain"

 This is my favorite view. The antenna for our internet and phone is up here. Best place for the solar power and the microwave connections! And the wind doth blow up here!

The water tank and the house from the top of the "mountain"

I like this one, too. It's a long way down!

On the way back

 Going down is very slow. The ground is very sandy and loose. The rivulets are from the last rain storm.

"fish rock" at the side of the trail

 We have several granite out-croppings. This one just looks like a giant fish head to me.

Thistle?

Close up of the thistle

We do not know the name of this plant. It is gorgeous! If anyone knows what it is, let me know. 

And that is your tour for today.

Please enjoy the rough, dusty dirt road on your way out!

What a beautiful day.  

Spring in the Middle of Nowhere

I have been making a big deal about the fact that we live in the middle of nowhere. Thirty to forty minutes from the nearest small city. In high desert country that ranges in temperature from 11 degrees on the coldest winter day to one hundred eleven degrees on the hottest summer day.

It clearly is not for most people. But for us...it is paradise.

We get all four seasons without the mind bending snow and ice of the northern states. We get sun nearly every day. And even when it is scorching during the day, we sit out on our porch in summer evenings and enjoy a cool evening with a marine breeze.

The only problem is growing the things that I like to have in my yard with such extreme temperatures.

The blue spruce pine couldn't handle it. The lavender didn't like it. We lost quite a few cactus in the cold of winter. 

But once we realized that everything has a season and you don't force the issue, we began growing some amazing things.

So this spring the spouse (better known as "The Alleged Mel") 

The Alleged Mel

began planting things for spring and into summer. So here is what our place looks like right now.

Some of the plants were here when we got here. Some we planted last year and thought they hadn't made it through the winter. Some are new from the nursery at Miner's. 

Everyone of them is a joy to see.

The iris were there when we moved in but had never bloomed. The California poppies started as two or three wild plants. They are now taking over the front yard. 

First bract on our two year old lilac

Ice plant guarded by Sparky

Native California Rose 

Lilac that came with the house

Iris

Sexy Rexy Rose getting ready to burst into bloom

Getting things to grow in the desert takes patience and time. We have to watch our water use very closely (there is a drought and we are on a private well...) But we are doing it.

But the best part of being where we are?

The oaks.

Huge and old they are home to the squirrels and the birds that are the real inhabitants of this corner of the world. 

I think I like the middle of nowhere. Especially in spring.

What A DAY!!!

Normally Monday is a workday.

Monday is one of two days a week that I am suppose to be available to the SLO courts to accept appointments for the Conflict-Conflict Public Defender.

I am a private contractor with the organization.

And usually on Mondays I spend most, if not all, of my mornings in court. Lately, it has been late afternoon before I get out of court.

Then I answer phone messages, clear up paperwork, review files, write motions....all that other stuff that I should have gotten done last week.

But today I played hooky. I left The Kid to cover for me and I, well, I drove for 2 hours or so to have lunch.

Kind of a really special lunch.

I got up at 6, left at 8:30 and arrived at 10:50. I sat in the car until 11:15. Then I went into a restaurant in Visalia to meet some really incredible people.

From the Class of '69 I would like you to meet:

The Girls

From left to right (by maiden name): Janice Staton, Patty Imoto, Gael Gisvold, Vicki Boyd and Patty Valenzuela.

I have known these women all of my life. Some of them went to a different grade school from me but I knew who they were even then. In junior high we all came together. We graduated from junior high and high school together.

And some of us hadn't been in contact for over 30 years.

But today all that time didn't matter.

We talked and laughed and shared our stories.

For FOUR HOURS!

It is a darn good thing that the restaurant wasn't crowded!

We all were blessed to be raised in a small town. In a time warp. It was a place where we all felt safe. We all got a fabulous education from very dedicated teachers. Those teachers shaped our lives.

And today we talked about them. We talked about Mr. Feitsma and Mr. Ippolito, Mrs. Woods, Mrs. Staton (no relation to Janice!). We talked about the Hanigans and my attempts to play the piano!

We talked about our lives and the changes that 60 years of living have wrought. 

And we laughed.

Somewhere in there we did eat.

But we just kept talking.

The best lunch. EVER.

Thank you, my friends. 

Thank you.

Because We MUST THINK

I normally do not write about articles in the news. I figure they are incorrect most of the time or slanted one way or another by the writer/announcer/news affiliate. But I just read a blog by a person that I have not met. I follow his blog because the person is thoughtful, a Public Defender, and (mostly) a good writer.

SO...when I read the following blog post I sent it to some of my fellow defense attorneys. I didn't send it to my Facebook account. I thought about it and decided that there would be a lot of negative, vitriolic, irrational, and emotional feedback.

Then I thought again.

Just because many of the people I know will automatically react negatively to the subject matter does not mean that I can't ask them to think about it.

If, twenty years ago, I was to write about gay marriage or any other highly controversial subject, the same response would have occurred.

But people did write about controversial subjects then. And they did controversial things.

They sat at all white lunch counters. They represented hated groups (Burton Allen Joseph, represented The National Socialist Party (off-shoot of the Nazi party) in its effort to march in mostly Jewish Skoki, Illinois). They demonstrated at the 1968 Democratic Convention.

They did things that most people didn't like. That many people believed to be immoral or "unAmerican".

And each of those things changed us. Changed our culture. I think they changed us for the better. Others might disagree. But I have based my life's work on changing our culture of exclusivity, distrust and hate one person at a time.

So, I think I can take it. Because this is important.

We need to remember that we cannot judge something until we have ALL the facts. We cannot hate or despise a person, a decision, an effort until we have looked at it thoroughly and thoughtfully. Until we have looked at it from the "there but for the Grace of God..." standpoint.

So here is the link to the blog. Just think about it.

http://apublicdefender.com/2014/04/01/some-more-thoughts-dupont-heir/  

The Day Is Coming

I have spent the last 30 years doing something I dearly love. 

Since 1985 I have worked as a criminal defense attorney to the poorest, sickest, most loathed communities in our country. I listened to their stories and I tried very hard to keep the power of the government from totally destroying them.

I have always believed that if a government is going to charge a person with a crime then that government should also afford that person the best defense possible. Otherwise there is not justice. And that word does not mean "just us".

It means to equitably and compassionately treat each and every person who comes before the court. The mentally ill, the poor, the physically and mentally disabled--everyone should be treated with the same care and support.

Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn't.

But there are people that I will never forget.

The first that comes to mind is a young man who is sitting on death row in San Quentin prison.

There is the mother of 2 who spent 8 years in prison for killing her abusive husband.

A young man from LA who protected his 16 year old niece from her other uncle. 

A father of 4 who tried to stop a parolee from attacking him.

Those are just the first murder trials that come to mind. Only one was convicted of murder. One was completely exonerated. The other two were convicted of lesser charges. And of those two only one went to prison. 

I tried about 15 cases like that. 

From 1986 to 2000 I worked as a Public Defender. I was not given a lot of respect for the rest of the legal community. To them my job was dirty. But it is the one that I believe deserves the most respect. It is difficult but very human work. 

It was trench warfare. Always trying to protect my client from the powers that would put them away for life (or worse) if I didn't do my best. Days full of courtrooms. Nights full of research and writing or just plain thinking. Rare were the times when a case did not come home with me in my brain.

Firmly in trenched in my mind was that for our system to work properly the government had to PROVE its case. No hiding evidence, no relying on someone's belief. It required proof. And my job was to challenge that proof. To make sure it was proof. 

It was not a matter of guilt or not. It was a matter of PROOF.

All tolled, I tried over 250 felony cases. I have no idea how many misdemeanor trials I did. I used to say I had tried everything from illegal fishing to capitol murder. And that is true. I won some and I lost some. If the system was working properly, I should have lost around 90 percent of the time. But I won more than my fair share of cases. Which to me meant I had to keep doing my job until everyone got it that accusations were nothing without PROOF.

I fought with judges, District Attorneys, probation officers, witnesses, clients and myself. And I persuaded a lot of jurors. 

I stayed awake at night and paced through my days. 

And I loved it. 

I loved the game. The theater of it all.

And then, I didn't. The fire in the belly was gone. Exhausted. 

I began losing my temper at DA's and judges. I lost patience with my clients. I lost more sleep than usual. 

I began to show to others the disrespect that I perceived that I had received from them or others in their positions. I have always been a bit arrogant but I was crossing the line at this point. And I didn't want to be doing that.

I began to dread going into the courtroom. It wasn't fun anymore.

I had proved that I was good. Very good, in my humble opinion. 

I proved to myself that my parents would have been proud of me.

I proved that I could stand up to those in power and speak truth to them. 

I proved to myself that every person on this earth is a human. And that there but for the grace of God......

I understood, finally, that my upbringing was a thing to be cherished. It was a thing that few of my clients could ever imagine.

I understood, finally, that having my advantages in life was a gift not to be squandered. Because there but for the grace of God....

And I FINALLY, FINALLY began to see that my existence, my identity had little or nothing to do with being a lawyer.

I am who I am.

The struggling to become a lawyer and providing for my child made me who I am today.

The struggle to be good at my craft made me who I am today.

I stand tall, sure in who and what I am because I BECAME a lawyer. Not because I am one. 

The profession taught me to do what I could and leaving the rest.

And so, I am leaving the rest to those who still have the fire in the belly. To those who want to make their mark. To those who are willing to and able to fight the system from within its borders. To those who can still listen to the stories and not lose themselves in them. To those that can, and will take my place.  

As of June 1, 2014, I will no longer be a regular in the courts. I am retiring on that date.

I will take a case or two now and then just so I remember all of the above.

But that case will have to wait awhile.

I need to spend some time with the spouse and with myself. 

I will putter for awhile. I intend to volunteer for the Wildlife Rescue folks. I intend to continue learning to weave. I WILL continue to sing. 

But when the fire begins to kindle again.....well, the young'uns can use a bit of training from the old lady!

Who'd a Thunk...

In high school I was a bit of a jock.

Now back in those dark ages, we "girls" were not allowed to be involved in competitive sports. That was much to "masculine" for the female of the species. We were not to be competitive or physically active. I actually remember a teacher telling me that if I keep running my ovaries would be damaged.
I didn't know what an ovary was at the time. But the statement was accepted as the way things were.

And I kept running. Cuz I didn't know what an ovary was or what it's role it had in my life.

We had teams in volleyball and softball and basketball.

But we could only play other schools at GAA (Girl's Athletic Association) "Play Days". Just round robin types of tournaments with no winner or loser.

But I played in them all.

Shoot, as a little kid I was center for the Linda Vista Gang football team. Until I turned 9 and my dad forbid me to play with the boys.

I had no interest in home economics.

I vowed to not learn to cook or type or sew.

Those were girly things and I didn't want to be pegged into something I didn't want to be.

I have written about this before but I never realized that it was ok to let go of that rigid thinking until now.

I went to law school when it was still an old boys school. I practiced in an area of law that was male infested. (Maybe not the best choice of words but it made sense at the time.)

And today I spent my second day learning to weave cloth.

And I didn't even notice the time passing.

I was working a puzzle. I was being analytical while I sang to the music that was playing.

It was unreal.

It was really fun.

And day 2 ended with the loom looking like this:

Ninety threaded headles.....

 And a threaded reed.

Took me all day and I never noticed the time. Not once did I look at a clock or even my cell phone. I even forgot I had a cell phone!

I swear it is a mixture of jigsaw puzzle and suduko.

Tomorrow I get to begin the actual weaving. 

Who'd a Thunk....