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Why grow cactus in Colorado?

Since Manuel Ramos (who assumedly will be back next week) left no protocols on what I should post in his usual Friday spot, I'm sharing photos of two deserts.

The first set is in my Denver front yard, although with the Portlandish monsoons of recent weeks, it appears more like selva than llano.

The set that follows is from my cousin Annette's yard in Phoenix. She's posted articles on La Bloga about our family and other topics, and may again(?).

Plants have obsessed me for more than the month I've spent weeding and pruning, apparently with no end in sight because it's supposed to rain heavily again over the weekend. Anyway . . .

I never been able to remember the names, neither scientific nor common, of all the varieties I've got. (If you're interested in such, use this site to try identifying cacti.) I sometimes classify them in terms of color. It's also useful, and important, to remember their classification in terms of their espinas. This one doesn't have the nastiest spines, which means I don't cry for my mom when I get stuck by one. I just . . .

These are the first type I ever grew and are the rose-colored. Again, their spines don't draw that much blood. As for why I grow these, Denver is normally an arid state--pretty, but with little precipitation (excluding the next 2,000 years of global warming). Clay, instead of dirt, sits under our yards and isn't conducive to anything green that requires regular watering. Over time, like fifteen minutes, it compacts down into medium-grade concrete. But prairie grass, buffalo grass, yuccas and cacti thrive . . .

This is a type of fat barrel cactus that I only have one of. This is its actual pinkness: swear I didn't Photoshop it. Many of these flowers only last one day. The largest type that are a good foot high I decided not to put into this post for fear the cactus bandits might be enticed to pay a midnight visit to my desert . . .

This one likes to spread itself, traveling wherever I haven't put stones in its path. Its white espinas aren't just a pretty face. They're mean enough to make even a Denver cop put his baton away. And it's obviously known as the . . .

Lastly, come what are definitely chollas. It's difficult to distinguish, given their growth this year, but there's two on the sides from El Paso--part of my Uncle Jess's legacy--and one in the middle that is a Colorado cholla. I've also got another one that's six-foot tall, but its flowers pale in numbers compared to these smaller ones.

This year the chollas flowered much later than usual, which I also attribute to the extended cold and wet. Nor have they ever all bloomed together, at least not to this extent. You might recognize these from some of Ramos's photos of the same. I snuck into his yard late one night. . .

Global warming may eliminate homo and hetero sapiens from contention, but it appears that along with the cucarachas, cactus, at least cholla, may prevail.

Like selling cactus in the desert

Now we come to my cousin's front yard. Sure, hers are bigger, but how hard could it be to raise saguaros where daytime temps get to 110? This hovel is not her house, but the photo was taken nearby. As you can see, the neighbors aren't very good about watering their lawn. Reminds me of someone down the block. . .

There seemed to be a lot of animals around, birds too, usually moving too quickly for me to take a photo. These two are the best I could do. The javelinas I saw one morning across the street when I went out to get the morning paper didn't wait long enough for the camera. Take my word for it though, they were serious mero meros of the desert.

Two forms of wildlife posing in the inevitable tourist photo. I had to take one, no? This is of an Arizona cactus and one from Colorado. (In case you're wondering, yes, I did ask the barrel if he'd allow me to take his photo.) The taller one is my wife Carmen. If she doesn't look that tough, you try hugging a barrel cactus, even a willing one, and see if your sunglasses stay put.

This little beauty was anything but little. Would you believe I took this shot from fifty feet away and that the thing's got three climate zones? I didn't think so.

I've got about fifteen varieties of cacti throughout my front yard. I've got opuntia, I've got yucca, I've got echinocereus, but none can compare to the saguaro. How could they? The saguaro stand, hell, they thrust themselves, above the sand as if they know the javelinas don't amount to a pig in a poke. They may not have three climate zones, but they probably could if they wanted to. For some reason they've allowed people, including my cousin, to live amongst them. At least for now. If you get to Phoenix, stop to see the plant life, not at her place but at the Desert Botanical Gardens. Warning! Afterward, you too may tear out the water-hungry grass in your yard.

RudyG

N.B.: Tomorrow's the last day to enter to win an Ebook copy of the Drollerie Press's latest anthology Needles & Bones that has a story of mine entitled Memorabilia. It's easy to win, but you do have to enter.

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On Wednesday morning, when I flew to LA, the airport shuttle van came five minutes early, so it sat while I finished tearing around the house. My street is narrow, with parking on both sides, so there was very little room for other cars to maneuver around the van. When I got in, a woman at the wheel of an SUV was reaming my driver out for blocking the way and making her late to school.

All she had to do was back up a few feet and pull into a space by the curb so we could pass, and everyone would have been on their merry way. But NOOOO..... she wasn't about to give way to anyone. So there we sat while she ranted and railed.

"Use your head," she yelled at the van driver.

"Use your car," he retorted, though with none of her venom. I and the two other passengers roared with laughter.

More ranting, then she grudgingly backed into the space. We drove north; she drove south. I pity her students.

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The most beautiful place I've given a workshop: the courtyard outside our meeting room at St. Maximilian Kolbe Church, Westlake Village.

I've been in (mostly) sunny Southern California since Wednesday. The official reason for the trip was to give a Book Promotion 101 workshop yesterday, sponsored by the Tri-Regions of Southern California chapter of SCBWI. I decided to take a couple of extra days, which I crammed with visits to friends old and new in Santa Monica, LA and Venice.

When I left Denver, it was about 30 with a couple inches of snow on the ground, forecast to shoot into the 50s. When I arrived in LA at noon, it was 72, with bougainvillea and roses blooming everywhere. Bliss!

The weather here was balmy thru Friday, when I spent a couple of supremely happy hours at El Matador Beach, just north of Malibu. I enjoyed the clime even more when Baby Brother filled me in on the wretched time he was having with the ice storm in Maine. (Schadenfreude is a great sweetener. And Baby Bro's power is back on now.)

The last laugh's on me though: It dropped to 40 last night in Simi Valley (home of the Reagan Library--guess where I won't be going) and there's no heat in my hotel room. (Yeah, there's a thermostat, but it doesn't do anything.) I slept in a sweater zipped up over my nightgown and the covers over my head.

Better/worse still: It was ZERO and snowing in Denver a couple of hours ago; it'll be maybe 5F when I touch down tonight. I am soooo glad I'm taking a shuttle van home, so I won't have to shlep through the frigid, snowy parking lot in my lightweight LA clothes. And I am soooo going to drink in all the greenery and flowers in my remaining few hours here. (Next stop: Topanga Canyon.)

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Olga Angelina García Echeverría has completed her first book of cuentos y poemas..

Falling Angels

Please join us for the book release
Saturday October 4, 2008 @7:30pm FREE!!!
@ Tropico de Nopal in Los Angeles

1665 Beverly Blvd.
Echo Park, Los Angeles, CA 90026

http://www.tropicodenopal.com


A celebratory noche of vino, angel debauchery and two-tongued poesia and prose

La Spinster of Ceremony:

Sandra C. Muñoz


Winged Palabra By:

Olga Garcia

Elba R. Sanchez

tatiana de la tierra

".each of Olga's cuentos stands out in bold testimony to our flourishing
as a people in Urban América. These are puro chicano stories, tales of urban survival
drawn from its most vulnerable and visionary inhabitants." -Cherríe Moraga,
author of Loving in the War Years

".The women and men in these pages make us think, laugh, and feel proud; they
are conocidos speaking in real speak. Without a doubt, this unique collection establishes
Olga as a lengualistic code-switching queen!"

-Elba R. Sánchez, escritora and editor


About the Author Olga García Echeverría is a Los Angeles-based writer and teacher. She has a Bachelor of Arts in Ethnic Studies from the University of California at Santa Cruz and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Texas at El Paso. This is her first book. Falling Angels: Cuentos y Poemas by Olga García Echevería

ISBN 978-0-9717035-6-8/ $14.00+s/h / Perfectbound

Flipbook (one side stories/one side poetry) / 136 pages

Cover and illustrations by Ricardo Islas.


KOP, Ex-KOP reading in Denver

One of the best times I had at WorldCon this summer in Denver was spent with Kat Richardson author of Underground, Warren Hammond and Mario Acevedo whose latest book has just come out--The Undead Kama Sutra, the third in his Felix Gomez vampire series (reviewed by Michael Sedano on La Bloga on Sept. 16, last month). I only managed to partake of some Japanese cuisine and copious amounts of drinks with them, but hanging out with three published novelists whetted my appetite to be discovered.

Warren Hammond was the nicest guy, and if his writing is as good--which I can't yet attest to--you can check him out this weekend in Denver. Warren will discuss and sign his newest book, Ex-KOP, a futuristic thriller in the noir tradition, which brings heartbreak and redemption for the flawed hero of Warren’s first book, KOP. Copies of KOP, in both hardcover and mass market paperback will also be available. All at 10% off cover price.

Sunday, October 5, 3:00, DENVER BOOK MALL, 32 Broadway (between 1st and Ellsworth Aves) – Contact Nina Else, at the Denver Book Mall, 303-733-3808, for any questions.

-- RudyG

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Attendees at Barack Obama's acceptance speech at the DNC in Denver. That's my little boy at center. Photo by Kevin Moloney for the New York Times.

It was a good thing I'd finished my morning tub o' tea when I opened today's New York Times national edition to the politics pages, else I'd have spewed it when I got to the story at the top of page 20: Political Realities May Pose a Test to Obama’s Appeal to Young Voters.

Because the young man holding a flag front and center is none other than my own son, the Boy Wonder. In case you're wondering why he looks so much taller than everyone around him, it's because he is so much taller: 6'4". Thinner too: 130 lbs, despite eating four square meals a day, and then some. Hence his choice of T-shirt, whose logo can't be made out in the photo: "Giraffes United Against Ceiling Fans." (See it here at Threadless T-Shirts.)

The photo was on the NYT home page when the BW saw it late last night. Too bad he didn't get a screen shot, as it's since been replaced. But at least he had his 15 minutes of (anonymous) fame, and I'm sure the folks at Threadless are thrilled.

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In case you haven't heard, the Democratic National Convention has been in Denver this week. Casa Bella has been an unofficial rooming house for visiting Dems. Last Friday, we had two from Vermont: a delegate for one night and a volunteer press relations officer for a week. Sunday, a Democratic Party Girl came from LA; she's also here till tomorrow.

Sunday evening, DPG and I went to a National Jewish Democratic Council reception at the Golda Meir House (who knew?) at Metro State. The free reception followed a benefit screening of "Golda's Balcony," which we didn't attend on account of the $100 entry fee. (DPG noted that the film was shown in LA a year ago; I imagine for a lot less dough.)

Once we found our way to the party through the maze of construction sites and closed-off streets, you'd never know that I was the Denver resident and DPG the visitor. I didn't know a soul, whereas she hailed several old friends from her stint as a Senatorial aide, including "BC," a guy she'd dated. Then she discovered that another acquaintance there had also dated BC. Whoops! I was hoping that the two would down a few more glasses of wine and compare notes. Instead they quickly parted and worked separate sectors of the crowd. (I ran into BC at an event this morning, and believe me, the women--perhaps all women--are better off without him.)

Celebs in attendance (at least the ones I can remember), all of whom addressed the crowd:

• Valerie Harper, who played Golda Meir in "Golda's Balcony." I was standing next to her early on and we exchanged a few words.
• Michigan senator Carl Levin, who blasted Bush and his policies, especially the erosion of civil rights, and extolled the importance of a strong Israel, which Obama would support.
• California representative Henry Waxman, who likewise blasted Bush and extolled Israel, and is very, very short.
• Former secretary of state Madeleine Albright, ditto; taller than Waxman.
  
• New Jersey senator Frank Lautenberg, ditto, who was the tallest of the bunch and wore a sports jacket in a shade of blue not found in nature. Good thing the light was fading, else we'd all have been struck blind.
  

Another of DPG's old friends from the Hill is now the campaign manager for Bob Lord, who's running for Arizona's 3rd Congressional District, John McCain's old seat. While DPG talked with her pal, I chatted with Lord. It's not often (read: never) that I speak with a politician running for office, so I was fascinated to see how one ticks: always "on," intensely focused, relentlessly upbeat. I could do that for maybe a week; Lord has been doing it for 18 months. Imagine what it's like for a presidential candidate. Yeesh!

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On Monday, April 7 at 7:30 pm at at Tattered Cover Book Store, Highlands Ranch, Lisa Tucker will read from and sign her new novel THE CURE FOR MODERN LIFE ($24.95 Atria). Her previous books are the critically acclaimed ONCE UPON A DAY and THE SONG READER.

Per a starred review in Publishers Weekly:
"An enjoyable literary page-turner that also explores serious social issues. In crisp, lively prose, Tucker cleverly executes a series of surprising twists that, coupled with the Big Pharma backdrop and cinematic feel, make the novel as fast-paced as a thriller, but with astute and often humorous observations about the shifting morality of 21st-century America. An excellent choice for book clubs...solidifies her position as a gifted writer with a wide range and a profound sense of compassion for the mysteries of the human heart."

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Actress and comedienne (and my consulting client) Alison Larkin will read from and sign her delightful debut novel, THE ENGLISH AMERICAN, on Wednesday, April 2, 7:30 pm at Tattered Cover Book Store, Highlands Ranch.

Alison will also be performing and signing books at a gala fundraiser for Journey To Me on Thursday, April 3, 7.00 pm at the Sheraton Denver West, 360 Union Blvd., Lakewood. Details and tickets: journeytome.com, the adoption gathering place.

Alison performed snippets from her very funny one-woman show, also called "The English American," at her launch party at the British Consulate in Manhattan last month. My official date for the evening, GalleyCat Ron Hogan, wrote about the event and captured some of her performance on camcorder here.

Simon & Schuster describes the book thus:
When Pippa Dunn, adopted as an infant and raised terribly British, discovers that her birth parents are from the American South, she finds that "culture clash" has layers of meaning she'd never imagined. Meet The English American, a fabulously funny, deeply poignant novel that sprang from Larkin's autobiographical one-woman show of the same name. With an authentic adopted heroine at its center, Larkin's compulsively readable first novel unearths universal truths about love, identity, and family with wit, warmth, and heart.

Here's a video of Alison's back story:

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The 2nd annual CYBIL awards are coming up, and I'm trying to decide whether or not I should participate. I haven't been very active in the kidlitosphere lately, and I had to quit working, which means I can no longer bring current library experience to the party. On the other hand, I still know a child from a chicken, to quote Helen Lester, so maybe I could be of some help on one of the nominating committees.

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