Had breakfast with pirateguillermo this morning at our usual place. Normally on Wednesdays I take my motorcycle in and park it across the street from the restaurant, and we laugh at all the men who flock to it and want to touch it and talk among themselves about it. And that particular drama plays itself out every single time I ride in. So today, pirateguillermo parked his motorcycle in the spot where I usually park, and although all the same men walked by and into the coffee place across the street, nobody gave his bike a second look. I find that...odd. It makes me want to go out there next time and ask somebody who's touching my bike what it is about my bike that's so fascinating.

Yesterday when I gave blood, I got into an interesting discussion with a couple of the ladies hanging out in the snack area. One of them said that, given the current choices for President in the upcoming election, she has decided that for the first time in her life she is not even going to vote. I was horrified. I can see being discouraged by the choices given, but I can't see that not voting is even a viable choice. And what's worse, she said that most of her family has made a similar decision. That's tragic! I'm suddenly very alarmed, even though Bush is going to lose regardless of who votes and who doesn't (you catch that, mortaine?), because those people who aren't going to vote are setting themselves up to hate the next guy too, and that makes it harder for him to do a good job. I'm beginning to think that the two-party system is not really a viable option, and that coalition systems where the governing body is made up of a spectrum of political parties might be a better idea.

Last night pirateguillermo made dolmas out of grape leaves he picked from the back yard, and mint he picked from the back yard. The rice and pine nuts he got somewhere else. But the dolmas were delicious and amazing in a way that store dolmas can't come close to. These had ACTUAL LOVE in them. You could practically see the kisses embedded in each one. And not just the love for the people who would eventually eat them. There was love of the process of picking plants he had grown himself and making them into amazing food. I mentioned to a friend that he really loves cooking from the stuff in the yard, and my friend said that he's a real hunter/gatherer. I said that I thought more gatherer than hunter, but we realized that if you're going to be a hunter, vegetables are the way to go.

If you come upon a vast herd of strawberries and you spear a big, fat juicy one right in the middle of the herd, the rest of the herd stays perfectly still. Even if you go away and come back the next day, the rest of the squashes/tomatoes/oranges will be right there, completely oblivious. When you sneak up on a grapevine to steal its leaves, it's likely that you are hiding behind his brother, who's allowing you to do it.

My friend told me that some plants, when threatened, exude a pheromone that attracts predators who will defend the plant. I think he probably meant wasps or mosquitoes, but just in case, we'll keep a lookout for tigers the next time we harvest the bell peppers. Hunters can never be too careful.