Fairly Routine

I wake up somewhere between 9 and 10 in the morning. Our bed is the most comfortable bed in the world. My dear wife has been up for a few hours. I warm up a heating pad for my neck (arthritis), pour a 20-ounce mug of coffee, fix and eat breakfast, which is always a bowl of cereal and a banana, watch the news and weather, get another mug of coffee, go down to the basement to read forums, blogs and write a little.

Just about an hour and a half after waking up, I get dressed, go outside and attend to the birds. (Sometimes my dear wife does this. We switch off.) We have 12 ducks and one Guinea Fowl. We used to have 18 ducks and 4 Guineas, but death happens.

One of the ducks hurt her leg a week ago. We have no idea how it happened. My dear wife went to put them in the pasture for the day and one, an older chocolate Indian Runner, didn’t get up and run out of the coop with the others. Her left leg was splayed out. Leg injuries are common in domestic fowl. Usually, after a couple weeks of rest, they are good to go. Sometimes they are not. We put her in the “infirmary,” a small area in the coop that I built just for such situations. She’s not eating or drinking much on her own, so each morning and night we put a half-dozen night crawlers in her water bowl. She gobbles them up right away. These worms will determine whether or not she survives.

The last Guinea has broken each of his hips once. He spent a couple months in the infirmary. He now gallops when he runs, and his tail is at a 45 degree angle to the left. We call him Legs. He still manages to terrorize the ducks when out in the field by charging at them, Male Guineas do this to establish dominance. Yet, Legs wasn’t always the Alpha. Another male that died from a really bizarre leg injury was the big dog before, but when he kicked, Legs filled in right away.

So the birds that can walk go out to a back pasture for the day. They have 3 big bowls of water that they climb in to wash off, and 3 smaller buckets from which they drink. These all get cleaned and filled every morning. Then it’s back to the coop to collect eggs, and clean out the food bowl and watering trough.

We still have some veggies in the ground. I put in a couple rows of spuds this spring and some lettuce. There are a couple raised beds of mint, which we still sell, Then there’s the tomatoes, eggplant and peppers in the hoop house. We planted enough garlic to last us the year. The garlic is almost ready to harvest, so it doesn’t get watered any more; however, the irrigation for the other plants still needs to be managed. We had our first new potatoes for dinner last night, seasoned with some green garlic and peppers. Yummy.

There are a million things I could do outside at this point. Our 3 cords of firewood were delivered yesterday evening. It needs to be put away in the barn but the area where it is stored still needs to be cleaned up, irregular pieces of wood from last year put elsewhere in order to neatly stack the new wood. But I still have to cut down the Photinia, buck the wood and stack it with the green filbert logs I bucked up last week. All of that wood needs to go behind what we are going to burn this winter.

And then there’s the barn. It’s a mess. The stall where we put stuff that needs to go to the dump is overflowing. I have about six trips to the dump ahead of me. Tools are strewn everywhere; hoses, hose manifolds, ground cloth, plastic trellis and potting cans all dropped with a “I’ll deal with them later” from last season are waiting to be dealt with.

One of the paddocks still has tomato cages and soaker hoses from last year. They are overgrown with weeds, so getting them out of there will be a monstrously hard task now. I may have to wait until winter to deal with them.

The roof needs power washed, a window sill needs replaced, the paint on the house needs touched up, the deck needs to be treated, screens in the windows need repairs, and I need another cup of coffee.

I go inside and sit down to write.

Then it’s time to go into town for the mail and sundries. And before I know it, it’s late afternoon. Time for a little poker before evening chores.


Poker Academy Online #40,179,664
No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.5/$1 NL)
Table Emerald
July 30, 2008 - 15:58:12 (PDT)

1} ubu roi $164.75 6s 6d
2) gwpro $275.55 ?? ??
3) trubbel $85.15 ?? ??
5) ctrl $105.20 ?? ??
6) Papageorge * $188.20 ?? ??
7) Boomerang (sitting out)
8) TIRAMISU $91.10 ?? ??
9) Loki9 $204.50 4h 7d

TIRAMISU posts small blind $0.50
Loki9 posts big blind $1
ubu roi calls $1
gwpro folds
trubbel folds
ctrl calls $1
Papageorge folds
TIRAMISU calls $0.50
Loki9 checks

FLOP: 7h 6h 5d
TIRAMISU checks
Loki9 bets $4
ubu roi raises $12
ctrl folds
TIRAMISU calls $16
Loki9 raises $187.50 (all-in)
ubu roi calls $147.75 (all-in)
TIRAMISU folds
ubu roi shows 6s 6d
Loki9 shows 4h 7d

TURN: 7h 6h 5d Ad

RIVER: 7h 6h 5d Ad 8c

Loki9 wins $344.50 with an Eight High Straight
$3 raked.

Chores are going to start early tonight.

V(o)ices

May came back! (See July 16, “May”)

Actually, she came back last week. Comes strolling in the door about 15 minutes late and says, “Hi everybody!” I’m the only person who says hello. Late in the session players are talking about her again, loudly. I figure I missed her busting out and she’s already left the pub. I look over at the table she was sitting at. She’s still there. I bust out early so I don’t know how deep she got. I still wondered why she came back at all. Clearly, folks don’t much care for her. Tonight she was at my table, and busted out early.

I didn’t last too much longer. Short with A 10 suited, a 10 on the flop, all in, called by AQ. Rivered. It was too early to go home. Beer on the breath in a small town with cops trying to prove something is worth avoiding. Two beers all night and I may find my name in the paper next week. So, I watch a bit of the final table. Pretty soon, May moseys up and starts a conversation.

“Do you play for money too?”

I’m a little hesitant with my response. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“Have you ever been to Las Vegas or Reno?”

“I go to Las Vegas sometimes. I belong to an online group who go annually.” A woman knows that if she asks a man about himself, he’ll warm up.

Screeeeeeeeech! That’s the sound of me slamming on the brakes in order to back up.

May has been playing in this game for what, a couple months? One hand tonight she had to be reminded what denomination the red chip was. $100. In another hand, I knew I had the best of it on the turn when she and Doud were in the hand as well. (I’ll write about Doud in the future.) Doud checks after his preflop raise and c-bet. I put him on paint and bet $500, about 3/4 of the pot with my pocket fives and a gut shot. It’s May’s turn to act and she starts fishing through her dirty stack to find a green chip. Then it hit me: she wasn’t thinking about the value of the chip; she was only concerned with matching the right color!

I started yapping. “Yeah, you want the $500 chip. The green one is worth $500.” She paused, then mucked. Doug then mucked his pocket twos. I gave them both immense shit.

Usually, I’m pretty quiet at these games, and people have remarked about such. In fact, during breaks, I pretty much keep to myself or sit and listen to tales about misbehaved children, low-paying jobs and benders. For some reason tonight I found myself rather loud and taunting, and people noticed. The jury was mixed as to whether or not they approved of my witty banter. May liked it. Another woman, Lois, who is pretty quiet herself, seemed perturbed, and the guys…hell, they’re good ol’ boys, and I was acting no different than some of them, except for the wit.

I gave them a choice: “Play like shit against me, and you get the loud me; play well, and I’ll shut up.” For the most part I stayed loud, maybe even got louder as Doud stayed in with bottom pair to hit two pair on the turn, and Suckout Dan rivered me twice, including on my final hand. It seems that if one has an ace or any paint in his or her hand, then seeing 5th street is advised. But hey, it’s free!

Anyhoo, when May sidled up after the game, I was still pretty pumped up, full of myself, what-have-you. So, it was probably easy for her to get me going again.

She says, “We didn’t even make the final table.”

“Nope.”

“You always say that you can fold your way to the final table.”

“I can, but when I have the best hand, I have to play to win, not just make it to the final table.”

“I want to make the final table next week. Let’s make a pact. Let’s both get to the final table next week. Promise?”

Something just ain’t right here. “OK, I promise.”

“Was she hitting on you?” That’s what my wife wants to know when I relate the encounter to her.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I’m nice to her. That might be enough.”

“What else did you two talk about?”

“She wants to get a group of us together to go out and play at the casino. I told her that wasn’t going to happen, as these folks like to play free tourneys and penny home games.

Then she asked me to call her the next time I went.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Back to the bar.

“So what do you play when you go? Cash or tourneys?”

“Cash, mostly. 1/2.

“Do you win?”

Most of the time, yeah. Sometimes I’ll lose a buy-in.”

“Well, when I lose $1,000, I just write it off to having some fun.”

“$1,000? I’ve never lost that much in one sitting. Hell, I don’t have much more than that in my total bankroll.”

“Then how do you afford to play 100/200?”

I’m dying inside. “One dollar, two dollar.”

The conversation then shifted to whether playing poker is fun. Never. The environs may be fun; the game isn’t, whether winning or losing.

“You take poker pretty seriously. Do you play a lot?”

“Every day.”

“Do you ever go to the local casino?”

“Every other week or so.”

(Insert group trip idea.)

“Well, if I give you my phone number, will you call me next time you go?” I’m thinking to myself that she would get chewed up and spit out. “I’d like to play but I don’t want to play against any really good players…what do you call them?”

“Sharks.”

“Yes, sharks. Can you tell who they are when you’re playing?”

“Most of the time, yes. Especially the locals. But I have to tell you, there’s usually three or four at every table.”

“But you can tell me who they are. Call me, please? I’ll give you my number.”

My mind is going at a thousand miles an hour. Here’s someone who by my estimations is a complete fish/calling station who is either going to suck out and clean up or dump a G and not fret. And because I’m sufficiently literarily paranoid, I wonder if this is some elaborate ruse. This chick just moves to town, finds some sap poker pub players and sets them up for a trip to the local cash game to clean them out. Of course, this is just my mind doing its thing, that thing that keeps me at home most of the time, quiet and holed up in my basement.

But something is just not right. Of that much I am certain.

She hands me her business card. She works for a regional bank that has lost 90% of its stock value in the recent mortgage fiasco. She’s a home loan officer.

45 Degrees Latitude

We live in an area known as the “Grass Seed Capital of the World.” Every year at this time, fields of grass are being cut and winnowed, seed is being harvested, and fields are burning. After the grass seed is removed, the burning destroys weed seeds and adds a little somethin’- somethin’ back into the ground with the first rains, which, according to the weatherman, may make an early arrival tomorrow.

Last Friday, and again all day today, huge columns of smoke arose in all directions. I would venture to say I saw at least seventy-five of these fires today. And when I say “huge columns” I mean apocalyptically huge. Like a volcano just blew its top and a half-mile wide swath of ash is rising four miles into the sky. Only it’s ten volcanoes blowing at the same time. The air gets pretty smoky and little black blades of burned grass fall all around. And every year at this same time, city folks get in an uproar about the air pollution. The same folks that buy the grass seed for their lawns. Hey! grow a vegetable garden instead.

I feel a tangent coming on, so before that happens, let me cut to the chase: After the field is burned, the contrast is quite striking between those large blackened tracts and the surrounding, still green, yellow or brown fields. I have been admiring these neo-geo landscapes for several years now, and have always thought they would make a great photo study. In that the area is quite hilly, there are some great panoramas that should translate quite nicely into a two-dimensional format. In previous years, unfortunately, our harvest has been in full swing at the same time as the burnings, and I have not been afforded the time to go out and shoot what I have seen as I drive to and from deliveries.

Since we’re not farming this year, I have been looking forward to the burnings, and today I went out with my trusty Canon A-1. I believe I framed some pretty nice shots. Plus, I scouted a lot of fields that have yet to be harvested that will yield some really nice close-up work. As soon as I get the slides processed and scanned, I’ll post a couple pics.

And because the song rocks:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10BbpGKLXqk&feature=related

Still Looking...

I’m subject to human frailties, indecision. Imagine that. I went to the casino yesterday and, after 8 hours, came home with $100 extra in my pocket.

Still, I’m torn. I had discussed the casino problem that I wrote about last week with my dear wife, and she more or less agreed that online might be a better way to go. I went yesterday with the half-baked idea that I would give it one more shot. If I did well, meaning that I worked toward building my bankroll, then I might consider keeping the casino as part of my poker repertoire. If I lost another buy-in, then I’d back off to only online.

I was halfway to online (down $100 at $1/$2) when good things started to happen: my suited connectors hit, my BB checks hit boats, an 11 outer with the flush and gut draw turned into pairing the turn and hitting the flush on the river, and I pulled off a spectacular river bluff. I was in good form late in the day, and I think I played a game that kept my opponents guessing.

Not that it was the easiest table I’ve ever played at, There were some monster stacks and some pretty aggressive players that I had to work around; yet there was enough dead money coming to the table to work with. There was a good cast of characters, and if I were to quit going to the casino, this is what I would miss the most.

I initially say in the #9 seat, next to the dealer. (I don’t particularly care for this seat, yet it’s not as bad as #1. I like to see the whole table and much prefer seats 3, 4, 7 and 8.) In the #5 seat was a guy that I’ve played on a number of occasions. He’s a quiet, studied player. I’ve seen him get clobbered in the past, but today was his day. As I sat, the table was talking about whether or not his high hand for the hour ($250 every hour), quad sixes, would hold for five more minutes. They did. Then he hit quad aces on the river against an all-in baby flush. Another $250 on top of a big pot. Later in the day he hit quad 8s and another $250. In the midst of all of this, he was getting hit with the deck, and by the time I left he had about $1100 in front of him, plus $750 cash in his pocket.

If I ever had a day like his, I’d be on cloud nine and have a hard time hiding that good feeling. However, this guy was pretty much monotone. He would occasionally talk about a hand, talk a little with the other players, but not much. I kinda figured him for some computer guy, maybe working for Intel, Hewlett Packard or some such company. You could see his brain working out the numbers on a hand, replaying the action. He was a joy to watch. And I watched him a lot, looking for tells. Nothing. I asked him toward the end of the day if he was going to wait until he got home to let out a “woo hoo.” He gave me this look that said he thought the whole idea of celebrating his wins was crass.

One of the players that donated a fair amount of chip to Mr. Rush was Mr. Know-it-all. Mr. College. The guy never shut up, sharing his poker theory with a buddy of his who was visiting from New York. He nearly always raised 5 x BB when on the button and in the cutoff. His cutoff was my big blind. I never had an opportunity to successfully defend my blind for that size of raise…but I wanted to. At one point he raised 3 x BB from the SB after several limpers. Indeed, he had several callers, and after he folds his hand he says, “I had 79s. I had to raise to get the pot to a size that would be worth playing those cards. I knew I’d get callers.” OK.

As the day wore on, a few young guns started showing up. One kid sat to my left, sunglasses, ball cap, stern poker face, a $200 stack of whites and a nervous cough after every hand he won. I was in the BB and the kid coughs preflop and bets 3 X BB. Wow! He must have a monster. Mr. Money bags calls, I look down at K5 off and fold. Board is K525K. His Aces held after quite a bit of betting. Oh well.

When it comes right down to it, I don’t know if I can give up the live play. With that said, I know that to continue means that I have to build a roll to match. Look for some online experiences here in the future. If I can get something started online, I can then better afford live.

Discover a new world

http://www.adultswim.com
http://www.superdeluxe.com

No, this is not spam. These are avenues to laughter. But be forewarned, the humor can be a bit bizarre or untoward.

My Favs: Squidbillies on Adult Swim; Babycakes on Super Deluxe; and Tim and Eric on both sites.

Please don't think less of me.

Just that quick-last 3 hands

It was one of those nights. I was playing 18% - 21%, catching nothing, losing just on pre-flop calls and folding lower aces. I had caught some nice pocket pairs early in the game but there was an all-in fest going on, boys waggin' their peenys at each other. I wasn't going to get involved and folded. Meanwhile, the Major wagger has lost about eight buy-ins, playing that kind of game where a player will lose that much just to bust out someone for a single buy-in and then crow about it. After all, when it's play money, ego has a premium.

I had been at the table for only 40+ hands yet it felt like I had been there an eternity. The table had slowed down a bit, albeit overbets were not uncommon. I picked up AK and took down a small pot. Then the following occurred:

I'm ubu roi.

Poker Academy Online #36,377,425
No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.25/$0.5 NL)
Table Dolomite
July 23, 2008 - 23:57:31 (PDT)

1} ubu roi $55.55 Qc Jd
2) emptytofull $142.90 Td Kc
3) MonkeyFish $57.65 ?? ??
4) ElkY jr $256.19 ?? ??
5) Poliweb $96.84 ?? ??
6) RiverKillsMe $65.30 ?? ??
7) KennKid * $78.45 ?? ??
8) Aristophanes $47.25 ?? ??
9) Aces2 $47.75 ?? ??
10) MAJOR $101.25 ?? ??

Aristophanes posts small blind $0.25
Aces2 posts big blind $0.50
MAJOR folds
ubu roi calls $0.50
emptytofull calls $0.50
MonkeyFish folds
ElkY jr folds
Poliweb folds
RiverKillsMe folds
KennKid folds
Aristophanes calls $0.25
Aces2 checks

FLOP: Ad Ts Kd
Aristophanes bets $2
Aces2 folds
ubu roi raises $6
emptytofull calls $8
Aristophanes calls $6

TURN: Ad Ts Kd 8s
Aristophanes checks
ubu roi bets $47.05 (all-in)
emptytofull calls $47.05
Aristophanes folds
ubu roi shows Qc Jd
emptytofull shows Td Kc

RIVER: Ad Ts Kd 8s 9s

ubu roi wins $117.10 with an Ace High Straight
$3 raked.

A bit surprised he called my all-in but I was happy to be above even. I now had some chips to play with, maybe loosen up a bit...

Poker Academy Online #36,377,426
No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.25/$0.5 NL)
Table Dolomite
July 23, 2008 - 23:58:09 (PDT)

1} ubu roi $117.10 Qs Qd
2) emptytofull $87.35 ?? ??
3) MonkeyFish $57.65 ?? ??
4) ElkY jr $256.19 ?? ??
5) Poliweb $96.84 ?? ??
6) RiverKillsMe $65.30 ?? ??
7) KennKid $78.45 ?? ??
8) Aristophanes * $38.75 ?? ??
9) Aces2 $47.25 ?? ??
10) MAJOR $101.25 9c 6c

Aces2 posts small blind $0.25
MAJOR posts big blind $0.50
ubu roi raises $3.50
emptytofull calls $4

I figure empty is looking to get back some of what I just took off him.

MonkeyFish folds
ElkY jr folds
Poliweb folds
RiverKillsMe folds
KennKid folds
Aristophanes folds
Aces2 folds
MAJOR calls $3.50

But of course...

FLOP: 6d 9s 2d
MAJOR bets $97.25 (all-in)
ubu roi calls $97.25
emptytofull folds
ubu roi shows Qs Qd
MAJOR shows 9c 6c

TURN: 6d 9s 2d Kh

RIVER: 6d 9s 2d Kh 4d

MAJOR wins $203.75 with Two Pair, Nines and Sixes
$3 raked.

To which he tells me that I should know better than to call his all-in. Perhaps so, but this guy goes all-in with a draw, top pair on the board, etc. He's also trying to make up for a ton lost earlier. Plus, the only way this guy makes any money off of me is with bad beats. I'm calling on principle, hoping to re-suck so he can scream about being robbed. Didn't happen.

It's getting late, I've about had enough and I'm not going to stick around for another couple hours to try and get back to even. Life's too short. Last hand:

Poker Academy Online #36,377,427
No Limit Texas Holdem ($0.25/$0.5 NL)
Table Dolomite
July 23, 2008 - 23:59:33 (PDT)

1} ubu roi $15.85 Ad Kd
2) emptytofull $83.35 ?? ??
3) MonkeyFish $57.65 ?? ??
4) ElkY jr $256.19 ?? ??
5) Poliweb $96.84 ?? ??
6) RiverKillsMe $65.30 ?? ??
7) KennKid $78.45 ?? ??
8) Aristophanes $38.75 ?? ??
9) Aces2 * $47.00 ?? ??
10) MAJOR $203.75 Ah 7s

MAJOR posts small blind $0.25
ubu roi posts big blind $0.50
emptytofull folds
MonkeyFish calls $0.50
ElkY jr calls $0.50
Poliweb calls $0.50
RiverKillsMe calls $0.50
KennKid folds
Aristophanes folds
Aces2 calls $0.50
MAJOR calls $0.25
ubu roi bets $15.35 (all-in)
MonkeyFish folds
ElkY jr folds
Poliweb folds
RiverKillsMe folds
Aces2 folds
MAJOR calls $15.35
ubu roi shows Ad Kd
MAJOR shows Ah 7s

FLOP: 4c Td 9s

TURN: 4c Td 9s 2h

RIVER: 4c Td 9s 2h 7c

MAJOR wins $32.50 with a Pair of Sevens
$1.70 raked.

I didn't stick around for the commentary.

All Good Things Must Come at the End

Now that we’re not farming as much, if at all, I can no longer ignore all of the other projects that need done around the property. Today I have concentrated on pruning trees. I started with a plum tree that someone in his infinite wisdom planted about three feet from the corner of the garage. A large portion of it was lying on the roof of the garage and had dented the gutter. This same tree has suckers (little babies sprouting from the root system) growing up all over the place. Add to this list the damn thing is near barren. We might get two or three plums a year. I removed three overflowing truck loads of limbs and managed to only pull the gutter away from the garage in one spot.

I then attacked one of the two filbert trees we have. Filberts? Hazel nuts to the rest of the world. Filbert trees in the orchards around here look considerably different from those in our yard. In the orchard they look like most any other tree with a trunk and branches. If left to their own devices, filberts will send up many long slender shoots from the base of the tree, and if they aren’t cut, they become the tree. Think of a fountain. Filbert wood is also somewhat brittle, so if the trees aren’t trimmed back, any strong wind or heavy snow will send branches crashing. And because the canopy of these fountained filberts can be rather dense, big branches that break off may not get to the ground. Instead, they’ll hang around waiting for someone to come along on a lawn tractor and then drop, bringing a few other limbs with them. Four truck loads. Tomorrow I’ll work on the other one.

That will leave the big Photinia in the front yard. The Photinia sans leaves. When we bought this place five years ago, it had leaves, albeit riddled with Entomosprium Leaf Spot, and it also had a big black streak of who-knows-what running down its trunk. I sprayed it with compost tea that first year, and that seemed to help some. Nah, actually it was just the dry weather, for over the years, and with our long wet seasons, the disease has progressed to the point where I want to take the tree out. I am meeting with resistance.

“Why do we need to take it out?”

“Because it’s diseased.”

“Can’t we do anything to make it better?”

“We can spray it with a fungicide every 10 to 14 days for the rest of our lives.”

“I’ll do it.”

“It’s a thirty-foot tree. It’ll be impossible to spray the whole thing.”

“How about if I just spray the black streak? That’s got to help.”

“It doesn’t work that way. The fungus is airborne.”

“You have to cut out the whole thing?”

“I can try to save some of it. I’d rather just be done with it.”

“It’s going to leave a big empty spot in the yard.” Thirty years ago someone went to a lot of expense to landscape this place. There are some beautiful specimen trees in the yard.

“I already planted those oaks and cedars, but they’ll take a long time to fill in.”

“What are you going to do with the wood?”

“We’ll use it for firewood.”

“But you said the fungus was airborne. Won’t the disease go up and out the chimney?”

“The fungus is already out there, everywhere.”

Well, to make a long discussion short, we’ll take the damn thing out and have someone come out with a big tree-digging machine and transplant one of the more mature trees in an adjacent lot of ours.

Now, I have to confess that while we were having the above conversation, I didn’t know the scientific name of the fungus. I just knew it was similar to the fungus, Black Spot, that infects roses. I looked up Photinias and then found their common diseases, looked them up and found the culprit, Endomosporium.



“Severely defoliated plants may need to be pruned heavily to have a small, easier to spray plant, to reduce the source of spores and improve air movement. It may be necessary to remove severely diseased plants that have also been damaged by cold injury and replace them with another plant species that is not susceptible to leaf spot. This disease is very difficult to control after plants are severely infected.”

I have just come back from getting a cocktail, and while I was pouring it I said to my dear wife, “It’s called Endomosporium.”

“The fungus?”

“Yes. And what I read said that severe infections are almost impossible to get rid of.”

“Well, okay, but promise me that you’ll talk to the tree while you’re cutting it down.

“I will.”

“And thank it for it’s many years of service.”

“I will.”

And as I was heading back downstairs: “What are you doing?’

“Writing.”

“About what?”

“Endomosporium.”

“I just gave you the end to your piece, didn’t I?”