"Jabbering away all night," my friend Crystal had said methamphetamine does. This would be my first and essentially last experience with the powerful stimulant. Fly and I were unintentional guests in the Kincaid kitchen, haphazard…
Posts published by “Spec MacQuayde”
We were still effectively lost on the slopes of Hatchet Mountain, two pilgrims packing garbage bags stuffed with moist, freshly-harvested marijuana, probably trespassing with every step. A full day since harvest, our inventory was no…
Sunday morning there was a message on the answering machine from a neighboring rancher who said he'd found a dead goat in the middle of the pasture. Also several of his heifers had jumped fence…
There we were, the guy “Fly” and I literally dangling on a limb of this outstretched madrone trunk, gripping another branch for dear life with the small pack of dogs raising a ruckus at the…
As the wild oat and its cousins transform the south slopes from bleached gold to emerald green, the poison oak leaves take on the same hues of purple to daffodil blaze as the vineyards. In…
Returning to the farm on Friday afternoon I was surprised to discover a flock of maybe two dozen seagulls lining the ridge of the roof of the barn. I had not noticed seagulls in a…
If the Giants had played host to the final two games of the playoffs, the National League Pennant series might still hang in the balance because of the deluge that swamped northern California over the…
On Saturday morning the boys made a beeline for the Boonville Farmers' Market once they'd stuffed their guts on blueberry pancakes at the General Store. For unsocial parents like me who never seem to feel…