6 Degrees of Sacramento

A recent letter to the editor in the Bee opined that our plague of wildfires was caused by a certain pissed-off deity. (Said deity, the letter writer posited, was likely registering his objection to same-sex marriage.) I, being a mere mortal, do not have the inside scoop on what might be eating the deity, but methinks it could be something else.

So, using the “sinners in the hands of an angry god” hypothesis, I set about looking for a message from the wrathful one. First, California’s got its drought on and we’re all supposed to be taking shorter showers and flushing infrequently. Second, because it’s so dry, half the state is ablaze. Third, the wild salmon fishery had to be shut down this year because of a steep population decline, largely because of loss of their river habitats. All sounds sort of water-related, if you ask me.

Maybe s/he’s pissed off because we’ve managed to put so many of our rivers in a chokehold.

An article in Salon.com today talks about the floods in the midwest. In the article, “A deluge waiting to happen,” reporter Katharine Mieszkowski writes that the catastrophic flooding was the result of “more than 100 years of narrowing and constricting the river.”

Although much of the blame is placed squarely at the feet of the Army Corps of Engineers for placing navigation structures in the river’s path, levees receive their share, too. Some of her article will sound eerily familiar to us’n here in Sactown, particularly the following paragraphs:

Levees, which are essentially piles of mud, dirt, clay and gravel, permit farming and development on the historical flood plain, yet greatly narrow the river’s course. “Where levees are added to the flood plain, they take away the capacity of the flood plain to both store and take away water,” says Pinter. Revetments, which line the river banks with boulders and concrete, prevent the river from meandering, which protects valuable land on the flood plain and makes the river straighter for shipping.

Now that the river can’t naturally spread out on its flood plain or meander, the extra water under flooding conditions has nowhere to go. “If floodwaters can’t spread out as they would in a natural flood plain environment, they can only go up,” explains Criss.

(Emphasis added. Note: The quoted individuals “Pinter” and “Criss” are, respectively, Nicholas Pinter, a geologist from the Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, and geology prof Robert Criss from Washington University of St. Louis.)

It may seem like cognitive dissonance to talk about flooding disasters while we have Arnie declaring a drought and 1,000+ wildfires raging all over the north and central state, but it’s not.  Although the front pages are taken up by our other natural disasters, we can’t afford to ignore what’s happening here in Sac. How many catastrophic floods will it take before we stop building in the floodplain? Does one have to hit here, at great cost to our lives and economy, before we get it? Isn’t it enough that we have the “there but for the grace” moment to watch the destruction in New Orleans and the midwest?

I won’t give away the final quote in the article (just go read it), but let’s just say it’s applicable.

Anyway, if there is a deity, and if s/he is pissed off, my research concludes that it’s probably not about same-sex marriage.

See a related post about Sacramento’s flood issues.

Newspapers being in trouble all over the country is not good news. Our local paper laying off staff last week also is not good news.

However, that doesn’t mean that I’m above making a snarky comment…or in this case, snarky graphic.

I read the Bee every morning with my coffee, have little panic attacks if I miss a day, and don’t hate it as much as, say, Joe Sac does, but I did have to laugh at the “scoop” comment on Sac Rag a couple of days ago. For whatever reason, I came up with this idea in the shower this morning.

Combine that with a slight case of hero worship for Jessica Hagy, and you have the above.

For more info about the decline of honey bees, click here.

For more info about the decline of the Sacramento Bee, click here.

This is it…last day of the fast. That whole 10-day idea? Pshaw, I
say. That’s for extremist, zealot, raw-food, obsessive types. Five
days is puh-lenty if you ask me. I actually feel pretty darned good.
My head feels clear, my neck actually feels better than it has lately
(how? how? I have no idea.). I don’t think I’ve lost any weight,
though. How can you not eat for five days and *not* lose weight? Well,
except my tits, of course. So unfair. Anyway, this whole fasting thing
has been interesting–sometimes annoying, sometimes downright
gross–but interesting. Oh, but why the subject line?

Well, today I had my first mammogram. Yikes. Nothing like being hungry
*and* having your tits squashed. My rather-with-it doctor recommended it as a “baseline” for something to compare future mammograms against (which I actually thought was a fabulous idea from a health perspective–not so fabulous from the “Hey, I thought I didn’t have to do this til I hit 40″ perspective). It wasn’t that bad, though. They give you these little metal pasties to put on your nipples, so there was some fun involved. S**** took me to the clinic and provided moral support, which really she owed me because she ate PIE A LA MODE in front of my face last night. 

So, tonight, I “get” to cook up a vegetable stew thingy. I bought all
these interesting beans to put in it. Including adzuki
beans…whatever those are. Tonight I can have the broth, and tomorrow
I get to eat the vegetables. So terribly, terribly exciting, I know.
At least I’ve spared you all the really gross details. Perhaps,
someday, over a glass of wine, in hushed tones, I will share. I know
you can’t wait.

I am never willingly giving up eating again.

So, Day 3 sucked. Did you hear the giant sucking noise? That was Day
3, in case you were wondering.

I broke down and had a cup of miso soup last night. I can’t tell you
how exciting that was. I was hungry and grumbly, and the lemonade
and herbal teas just weren’t cutting it. The miso actually did the
trick–I think my body wanted some sodium. I felt warm and full for
the rest of the evening. So, I am pretty proud of myself for surviving
Day 3, for the most part. Keep reading →

Ah…back at work and day 3 of the fast. They say day 3 is the hardest. I have this godawful taste in my mouth and my tongue is coated with some sort of slime. I am glad my office mate is not here. I’m afraid that I smell bad, too. That could just be paranoia, but I
feel disgusting. I hate the lemonade, although it does really seem to
help stave off the hunger pangs. All the fasting articles I’ve read
have assured me that my tongue will go back to a normal, healthy pink
color in a few days. I am trying to take this as a good sign that I’m
releasing toxins, but really it’s just gross. Keep reading →

In a lot of ways, I’m feeling fortunate these days. I can do part of my job via telecommuting, which means I can avoid driving several days a week. This flexibility has allowed me to avoid the worst of the I-5 fix delays and use less gas.

I’m grateful for the days I can work from home because I have fewer distractions (other than my blog, of course) and can knock out my projects quickly and efficiently. However, staying at home means limited human interaction, too. I’m a pretty dedicated introvert most of the time, but see the real disadvantages in sitting all alone in my home office, still in my fuzzy slippers at noon. This sort of thing can make you a little wonky. Keep reading →

I’m grumpy. Crabby. Snitty. Pissy. They say it’s normal. As my body
“sheds toxins,” I’m apparently going to experience grumpiness and
aches. Wanna make something of it?

So, I actually woke up *not* hungry this morning. I was surprised. It
must have something to do with the fact that I dreamt about shoving
food in my mouth ALL FREAKING NIGHT. Keep reading →

A cross between a cry for help and a PSA, the next few items are extracted from a diary and emails to some pals I wrote while attempting to do a “cleansing” fast shortly before I moved from Santa Cruz to Sacramento.

It’s 3:15 p.m. on Saturday, and I started a fast today. And because
I’m trying not to think about food right now, I’ve decided you all
need to suffer along with me. Sympathy notes encouraged.

I decided to do it as a “spring cleaning”-lose a couple pounds-get the
cobwebs-out thing. I did a little surfing online last week, checking
out possible fasting regimes (did you know there’s something called a
“potato fast”–whatever…). I decided to go with one that C**** went
on, a “lemonade fast.” It’s 10 days long, but hey, I get to drink
lemonade. So, okay, I’m going with it. I download the recipe and
“instructions.” Keep reading →

My garden is bursting its seams, literally. The plants are growing so large, they’re overlapping each other. Everything seems to be quite happy, except the last little tomato plant, which is being overshadowed by the cucumber. All this is in only an 8×8 space. I wanted to start small because of my lack of gardening experience–now I find myself wishing I’d planned a larger garden. But, this garden is manageable, and I am already telling myself I can do a bigger one next year. Keep reading →

I started summer school last night. I’m not entirely sure this is how I want to spend my summer, but I’m fairly certain it will put a dent in my social life and possibly make me doubt my will to live.

Why would anyone willingly do this to themselves? I’m applying for a PhD program soon, and I have a few prerequisites to clear up…thus, summer night classes at Sac City College for me. Given that the last time I cracked a textbook was, oh, around the turn of the century–literally–it’s fair to say I’m rusty at this studying thing (for example, right now, I should be studying. Instead, I’m blogging. Equals procrastination.). Keep reading →