First of all, these goddamned flies are going to be the death of me. They still are appearing in the usual parts of the house although perhaps not in quite the numbers that I was enduring a few days ago, but today I was doing laundry and had a rude awakening. Decie had warned me about encountering a number of them in the laundry room on Tuesday when she was cleaning but she sprayed and vacuumed up the dead. Today, when I went down to transfer the first of four loads from the washer to the dryer, I was horrified to open the dryer door and find probably 10 or 15 dead ones in lying in a pile in the bottom of the drum and a live one that flew out when I opened the door. This is really getting disgusting.

Today there was a sale at a furniture store that I frequent and I scored a much needed storage piece for my office, but had been unable to get it out of my car and into the house without some help. Jay had two photo shoots today (the second one being a high school belly dancer who wanted pictures of herself doing her hobby) and got home around 8:00ish. After starting a dinner for himself, he and Lori walked over to help me unload my new piece and get it into my office. Once this was accomplished we sat down and had a cocktail while Lori perused my copy of "How to Speak Southern" which Beth Kiyosaki had thoughtfully given me as a going away present when I left Sacramento. The two of them didn't know whether to hoot and holler or be upset because in it were expressions they had heard their entire lives and up until now, had believed to be universally spoken English.

This entertaining conversation led into some pretty funny stuff about the speach patterns of childhood friends. One guy named Roger apparently had a particularly colorful way of expressing himself. Not only did he speak pure redneck Southern, but his sentences were peppered with such malapropisms as "my parents are traveling in Morronaco" and "He is planning to attend an Ivory League school". I gathered from what they told me that there is an entire lexicon of Rogerisms that merit publication. I sense a book in all this.

As if there were any question about Abner being a local celebrity, that was scotched today. I got a forwarded email from Jay Coble this morning that actually makes me a little nervous. He has donated a photographic session to a Cancer Survivor's organization fundraiser that is going to be a fawncy garden party at the home of a local philanthropist and got an email this morning telling him that he was entitled to a free ticket to the event in exchange for his donation and also asking him to bring the man photographed with the Great Pyrenees whose photo appears on his website. The woman who sent the email indicated that my presence was specifically requested but she refused to say by whom or for what purpose. I suspect it may be the philanthropist in question whom I have met twice in civil but somewhat adversarial situations at planning entitlement hearings. Who knows though? It is a strange feeling to not only be identified by my dog but now to get mysterious invitations based upon his celebrity.

It is now Thursday the 6th and aside from my emerging depression over having to pay the capital gains tax on the sale of my house in Sacramento, things are fine here. I have been walking Abner a lot at Biltmore lately because the springtime explosion of flowers has started and it looks different literally every day. I hope to attach a few pictures from our recent walks. You can see that the tulips are starting to really show themselves off in the walled garden and elsewhere and trees and shrubs are starting to leaf out for the season. I included a shot of a pair of nesting geese who have staked out a little peninsula (formerly and island) protruding into the Bass Pond at a particularly attractive spot. The mother goose (who knew I would ever use that term?) seems quite serene and secure in her spot. Even with Abner and me only 30 or 40 feet away she didn't feel compelled to move or honk. Neither did her husband whom you can see a few feet behind her in the water. Other geese around this place raise a huge stink when we get within a couple hundred feet of them. Maybe these two remember us from last year.

I have also attached photos of the building I have mentioned several months ago that I had stumbled across and think is ripe for rehab. I still haven't called Chuck Pickering (whose house is very close to Biltmore house and is shown in another of the intended posted shots) to talk about the potential of this wonderful old structure that is partially in ruins. It needs to be protected and put back into use before it really starts to deteriorate structurally. Apparently its original use was for the egg layers and the workers who tended them. It sits on a wonderful plateau with phenomenal west facing views. Anyone who comes here can walk there with Abner and me to see it in the flesh.

I had another meeting today with the Marshall brothers to talk about a condo project here. While I really don't feel like getting into practicing architecture here, the idea of doing one project, only through schematics, and participating in material selections and finishes but having no drafting responsibilities, no liability and no participation in the generation of working drawings or engineering, seems like it might be fun and could pay well enough that the trauma of my tax bill would be greatly diminished. It almost doesn't feel like it would be work. I know it sounds like I am trying to talk myself into it, but I seriously think this might be OK. I have also started working on preliminary designs for a house for myself on my extra lot. I still would love to find property with a killer view, but I think, in the meantime, I will probably build something on my lot so I have a new modern house to live in with all my stuff and concrete or stone floors on which Abner can spread his belly during the summer months. The idea of a well insulated, well lit house that is conducive to the display of my art and other collections really appeals to me. Actually, I miss having a house in which I was pretty convinced that everything would work or be under warranty if it didn't. So maybe in 2007 I'll build, sell the charming old Tudor I am in, and continue to look for a great piece of land on which to eventually build the house of my dreams.

Well, I'm getting hungry and need to cook dinner. Besides, this is getting a little long. Hope the pictures work and however many readers there are of this thing, you are all well.