Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
that fvcker Medvedev is threatening the use of nukes if Ukraine’s counteroffensive takes any more ground.
Ukraine suffered the worst nuclear disaster in the world and came back from it so fVck Putin and his despotic villainous war and fuck all his spittle laced lackeys.
So… apparently, there’s a company called Prestige Biotech, and it, apparently, is owned by Xiuquin Yao, and sometime in March of this year it was discovered that this company is renting a ‘storage facility’ in Reedley, a town SE of Fresno CA, which was jam-packed with infectious agents, moribund mice (almost a thousand were euthanized).
From Beth Mole’s Arstechnica article from three days ago:
Local and federal authorities have shut down what seems to be an illegal medical lab hidden in a California warehouse that contained nearly 1,000 laboratory mice, hundreds of unknown chemicals, refrigerators and freezers, vials of biohazardous materials, including blood, incubators, and at least 20 infectious agents, including SARS-CoV-2, HIV, and a herpes virus.
A criminal investigation is ongoing. The tenant of the warehouse is listed as Prestige Biotech. Prado told KSEE that the company’s president, Xiuquin Yao, was not forthcoming with information. According to the court documents, Yao told officials that his company had moved assets belonging to a defunct company called Universal Meditech Inc. (UMI), to the Reedley warehouse from another Fresno location where UMI had operated before it was evicted. Prestige was identified as a creditor to UMI. But, Prestige allegedly failed to provide any licensing or permit that would explain the laboratory activity at the warehouse.
All biological materials were secured by July 7.
mOm please share with Laurel !!
spoke to Dave, he seems in good spirits
helped with the 3 weekends running yard sale again yesterday, where I was told what I was expected (!?) to haul away from Paul’s old room, and where I found Paul’s soaring logbook since he was almost in tears at the idea of losing it (found it in seconds…Paul could describe but not *see* it) then went to Peggy’s, where in addition to being served my healthy whole wheat pasta and green salad lunch by Peggy’s preternaturally solemn granddaughter I heard (after she left) a piece of gossip so extremely
that I only wish I could share it with anyone who cared. We three sang bluegrass standards and filk of various denominations.
I am going to Orycon; we’ll drive; Cindy will be (inshallah) healing from her first carpal tunnel surgery so I may get to spell her more often than not which is fine because I fucking love that stretch of road as much as I love the stretch of the 401 between Cornwall and London…. There is a LOT of pentup demand for a con after a two year absence so I’m sure it will be a banger for all involved.
The con will be masked. Here are the deets.
a couple hundred words on TB
Osoyoos is about to burn down. In light of that how unfortunate is this?
The moon is high and bright
It bathes a ghastly blight
Upon a battlefield
With flinty stabs of light
The little things we like to do
Will keep us ever close and true
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.
Their boys put up a fight
You know it don’t seem right
But we survived the fray
And now sneak out at night
The CO will find fools to scold
until he sees that shiny gold
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.
He used to mock my clothes
Swear he’d bite off my nose
And now he’s lying here
He don’t smell liiiiike no rose
And how I bless each little turn of fate
Their horsemen arrived two hours too late
It is now past noon
And pretty soon
I’ll be counting silver with you
Another happy memory
of looting corpses with you.
Got an invite to ridealong with Cindy for Orycon. I am so goddamned tempted words don’t cover it. I’ll decide by the end of this month, when the rates go up again. It’s in Portland OR in November, so it would sort of be a 65th bday celebration. We’d be driving, I believe. It’s only five and half hours plus rest stops and the border.
I am very much thrilled to report that Keith has found a place to live that he can afford. It’s in Richmond, but I believe it’s above the flood line; at least it’s in a locale two metres higher than the Richmond average (1 m above sea level). I know bunches of stuff about the landlord/roommate but while I have mentioned him in past posts I will maintain a discreet-ish silence going forward.
Praying with all my atheistic inclusivity that Katie and her kids also find a good space.
I’ve only written 100 words in the last three days, but I’m still feeling forward motion so I’m not worried.
I’ve had breakfast and coffee.
Suzanne was here yesterday, the enshinening happened.
Very low energy day yesterday, but I managed to make myself a decent salad and fried myself up some steak strips.
Fire risk in parts of Metro K’emk’emelay are now ‘extreme’.
and not doing anything else except drink iced tea and eat halvah.
My ancestors are pleased.
My descendants possibly less so.
It’s possible he’s located shelter for himself, we’ll see if he gets to sign a lease or not over the next couple of days.
I have no idea where they come from or where they go when they are gone, but it happened. Spoke to Dave.
I’m keeping busy.
A housewife takes a lover during the day, while her husband is at work. Not aware that 9 year old son was hiding in the closet. Her husband came home unexpectedly, so she hid her lover in the closet. The boy now has company.
Boy: “Dark in here.”
Man: “Yes it is.”
Boy: “I have a baseball.”
Man: “That’s nice.”
Boy: “Want to buy it?”
Man: “No, thanks.”
Boy: “That’s my dad outside.”
Man: “How much did you say the baseball was again?”
Boy: “$250.”
In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the mom’s lover are in the closet together.
Boy: “Dark in here.”
Man: “Yes, it is..”
Boy: “I have a baseball glove.”
Man: “That’s nice.”
Boy: “Want to buy it?”
Man: “No, thanks.”
Boy: “I think I just remembered something I needed to tell my dad.”
Man: “How much did you say the glove was again?”
Boy: “$750.”
Man: “Fine.”
A few days later, the father says to the boy, “Grab your glove. Let’s go outside and toss the baseball!”
The boy says, “I can’t. I sold them.”
The father asks, “How much did you sell them for?”
The son says, “$1,000.”
The father says, “It’s terrible to over-charge your friends like that. That is way more than those two things cost. I’m going to take you to church and make you confess.”
They go to church and the father alerts the priest and makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and closes the door.
The boy says, “Dark in here.”
The priest says, “Do not start that shit again.”
CONFIDENTIAL TO MOM I THINK THIS KID IS RICHIE
I have now received TWO physical copies of Tales of Grampa but heaven knows where they are.
I have sent her a thousand words on TB. The word machine is crankin’
Mother Dear Mother
I cannot find the slender black binder which contains the ‘Tales of Grampa”. Please either send it to me in printed or electronic form, or acknowledge that everyone else involved but Grampa is dead now and publish it for the world to see, because Tales of Grampa is one of the best things our family ever wrote.
Alex is the right age now, I NEED THAT BOOK.
Okay technically it’s not required for my physical survival but gloryoski I shore would plumb like that.
Spent a LONG time at Lougheed Mall yesterday with Keith as he acquired a new phone. If -and this is a big if – I need a cell phone I’ll go to Walmart for the flip phone and go to the Bell kiosk for the sim card and activation. Keith also acquired a shower curtain and some other items for his dad and I fed him at Cazba. Lovely food but takes forever. I spent so much time waiting for him that I put together a 125 item generalized list. I also picked up a beautiful new pen – Oomomo has wonderful Japanese pens – and some mini whiteboards with markers – and a pack of Pocky. Managed to stay away from Cobs Bread and the Purdy’s Chocolate. The mall keeps changing stores and it can be quite disorienting.
Keith desperately needs to get some work done on his car, it’s not starting very well. Honestly thought we might be ‘stranded’ (it’s one bus ride home, la).
Had an unbelievably frustrating conversation with him about creativity. He spends all his time worrying about not writing instead of digging in to understanding his creative process and finding tools to support it. I mean, I only found Scrivener a decade ago and before that I didn’t have an app which supports my creative writing the way I need it done. He’s always so infuriatingly vague when he talks about anything personal so after five minutes of flailing, I shut up, assuming he was finding my ‘solutionizing’ patronizing and demoralizing and candidly useless. You know, like the ‘just cheer up’ advice you get from someone who doesn’t understand depression and anxiety and finds your gloominess rude, antisocial and disrespectful.
I checked someone’s name on line after they advertised their cleaning and organizing services on Next Door and they are…. let’s just say whoever the hell she really is, someone with her exact and unusual name has a set of resumes on line which…. er …. don’t line up. They can’t all be right, but they for sure can all be wrong…. so I’m just going to skip over that part where I pay for her advice.
The red canoe is gone out of the back yard, thank you Jeff for making that possible.
I’ve gotten wordle in three tries three days running, I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. There’s been a run of words with ‘B’ in them though, I don’t think that’s unrelated.
Ah, that coffee. Milk and sugar. So good.
And in spite of it, do you know what my bp was this am? 117 over 79. That is absolutely perfect blood pressure and that’s 1.5 hours before my meds so you can understand why I feel a bit weird for an hour after I take them. (But it doesn’t stop me from doing things, I just take it easy.)
I owe Dave a phone call, hopefully it will migrate from my list to reality sometime today.
Zibethicus changed the logo on twitter. Long time nesters there are saying things like ‘EVERYTIME I SEE THAT X INSTEAD OF THE BLUE BIRD IT REMINDS ME TO GO SOMEPLACE ELSE’ Yes Elon, you dun fuct up
I’ve written 773 words over the last two days on TB.
I really wish my energy level wasn’t so variable; but that I guess is the single biggest reason I can’t work full time any more. Plus I’m actually listening to my body and peeing at first recognition that my bladder is full rather than waiting until explosive decompression is imminent.
My pOp said something HILARIOUS to me on the phone yesterday, so I am saluting him this morning WITHOUT repeating what was said. Thank you kind sir, I have been chuckling occasionally ever since. He’ll read this and think, “What is she going on about?” and that too is part of the humour.
I miss Ryker, I need to see that boy.
(with a Latin beat, (alas I could not determine which one, but I will eventually) sung by a single voice with guitar, trumpet and percussion accompaniment, and descriptively it’s the ‘Dah dit dit dit Dah dit dit dit’ rhythm, whatever the hell that is)
This song is, quite obviously, dedicated to the memory of John Caspell.
The moon is high and bright
It sheds a ghostly blight
Upon a battlefield
With chilling points of light
The little things we like to do
Will make us ever close and true
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.
Their boys put up a fight
You know it don’t seem right
But we survived the fray
And now sneak out at night
The CO will find fools to scold
until he sees that shiny gold
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.
