Delightful

I continued my course of therapeutic frivolity by leaving work early the Friday before the long Memorial Day weekend and heading to Angelika’s little salon in the big woods:

To be fair, I had planned the haircut long before the tragedies hit, but the timing could not have been better. I was surprised to see that Angelika had cut her long blonde hair to a cut similar to Robin Wright’s in House of Cards. It looked great on Angelika, very stylish and pretty.

I was very happy to see her dog Anasazi, too. When I last saw Angelika in March, she was planning to put Ana to sleep due to her issues with her hips and balance at the age of 13. When the vet came to do the deed, she said that Ana was not yet ready to start her next adventure, so hopefully Ana will be with us through the summer and maybe beyond.

It was nice to get such happy news, and to watch a Steller’s Jay taking an enthusiastic bath in the bird bath outside the salon window. Angelika’s garden was full of blooms, from the rhododendrons you can see peeking through the windows to the irises outside the salon:

It was a relaxing and rejuvenating to spend time with Angelika. She sent me on my way with a hug and birthday gifts for both Megan (whose birthday it was) and me.

Since it was Megan’s birthday, my new haircut and I met her at our favorite seaside bar, where our favorite bartender started us off with free glasses of birthday champagne, which I think we all can agree is the best kind, to inspire us while we decided on the next drink.

It turned out to be a Lemon Drop:

and it was delicious. It was great to chat with the bartender and enjoy our drinks despite the cloudy weather. Later we moved the party to my house, where we stayed up later and possibly enjoyed more adult beverages than we should have, but after all, it was a special occasion.

A YEAR AGO: Celebrating Megan’s birthday on the family estate.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Megan’s birthday was both festive and eventful.

Lovely

I decided to try some of my own frivolous medicine to help me deal with the recent losses in my life. If it worked for Erica and John, maybe it would work for me, too. I started by indulging in the Royal Wedding, which I had recorded on BBC America so I could merrily fast forward through the hours of boring stuff, like endless speculation on the dress and man in the street interviews. I started watching when Meghan’s car left the hotel.

It was a beautiful day, and I have to say that there is nowhere lovelier than England on a fine spring or summer day. I was glad to see the flawless blue sky and the sun shining down on Windsor. The flowers wreathed around the chapel door were just breathtaking, as were the flowers inside. Harry’s nervousness and William’s joking with him to calm him were charming to see, as was the deep bond between the two of them. I think their mother would have been proud and pleased and I am sure she was in their thoughts.

Meghan looked stunning. I didn’t love her dress, but I did love the train and veil, thoughtfully embroidered with flowers representing every country in the Commonwealth, and the fabulous accessories, from the Cartier bracelet to Queen Mary’s tiara. I couldn’t help but wonder what that formidable queen would have thought of her descendant marrying an American divorcée.

I wish that Meghan had just walked the whole way to the altar by herself instead of just halfway. To me, either she should have been escorted the whole way or been alone the whole way. Her mother certainly looked lonely in her little corner, the only representative of Meghan’s family. I have to give grudging respect to Prince Charles for how he looked after the mother of the bride after the ceremony.

The service itself was the perfect blend of English and American, though perhaps I think that because I myself am the perfect blend of English and American. Reverend Curry stole the show with his uplifting and passionate sermon, the likes of which I am sure has never been heard before at any English wedding, let alone a royal one. The Queen, looking magnificent as always, took it all in stride.

Harry and Meghan’s kiss on the steps of the chapel, under the gorgeous flower arch, was perfection. They are such a beautiful couple, and so clearly in love. The way they looked at each other as they made their vows was a joy to behold. And as they rode through the streets in an open carriage, waving to the ecstatic crowd, it was hard not to feel that a new chapter had started, both in their lives and the Royal Family’s.

A YEAR AGO: The landline ringing was once again bad news: Star had a seizure. She recovered and is fine, though!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Goodbye, disused, decayed and dangerous hot tub! I think I’ll miss you least of all!

Gone


Pete

Well, guys, I got hit by a one-two punch of tragedy, and I’m still reeling from it.

I was driving home after a 12 hour day at work when I heard my sparkly pink phone blowing up. The long drive home gave plenty of time for plenty of texts, and as I walked in the door, the landline was ringing. Is it ever good news when the landline* is ringing?

It certainly wasn’t this time. I was told that Erica’s mother had perished, both horrifyingly and suddenly. I will not go into details, but will just say that there may be and should be criminal charges pressed against the person who caused her untimely and dreadful death.

Erica and Jessica are both safe, though their house has been without power or water ever since the tragedy struck, and they were almost immediately embroiled in drama and unpleasantness, which I am sorry to say is more often the case than not. Death seems to turn a lot of people into total asshats really, really fast.

Just a few days later, I got an email from my ex husband John telling me that his best friend Pete, who had been the best man at our wedding, had died in a car accident. I was shocked, not just because he was younger than we are, but because he was always an excellent driver. I learned later that he hit an unexpected patch of gravel and lost control of the car, hitting a power pole. John said he was killed instantly.

Much like Erica’s experience, it took about a nanosecond for drama to rear its ugly head. Pete was in the process of getting divorced after a very unhappy marriage, and was living very happily with someone else and her two children, who adored him as well. The woman who is still technically his wife filed for his pension, insurance and other benefits immediately. And I’m afraid she will get them and the woman he loved will get nothing.

Oddly, I had just been thinking about Pete that very day on my way to work, having no idea he was already gone. I was thinking about how I used to ride on his motorcycle with him and he always said I was a natural. I was thinking of how much he’d enjoy riding the curves around here. About an hour after I arrived at work, I got the email from John telling me about his death.

John is just devastated, as is Erica. I think it’s harder to watch those you love in pain than to suffer yourself. Oddly, they have both told me that my frivolity has helped both of them the most as they walk the long, lonely path of grief. I’m glad to have helped them with their staggering burdens of grief, even in a small way.

*I still remember my father getting the phone call on Christmas Eve telling him that his father was dead. He slid down the wall with the receiver in his hand, sitting on the floor, stunned. Then he began to cry. It was the first time in my life I had ever seen him cry, and I was fifteen. It was almost more shocking than the news itself.

A YEAR AGO: Enjoying the ride in Erica’s new car, not to mention Clayton’s visit and a delightful dinner.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A wonderful time with the inimitable Miss Janice. I love that lady!

Road Trip

Megan mentioned on a Friday evening that she was planning to go to the thriving metropolis of Willits on Saturday to get pepper plants and tomato plants for the greenhouse the boys just built:

Willits is 30 miles inland from the Big Town (though it takes a good hour to drive those 30 miles*), making it much warmer in the summer (and colder in the winter), so they have a wider variety of heat-loving starts for sale there.
I decided that I would go with her, a decision that seemed reasonable after a couple of adult beverages on Friday night, but a less attractive prospect on the following day. I did manage to get up, though later than intended, and threw together pineapple salsa to go with the chicken enchiladas I did not have time to make before heading out the door.

We made our way past the ocean and the mighty redwoods, the road curving around and around, climbing up and back down again. It’s such a beautiful time of year, with the fields full of wildflowers in every color and baby calves, lambs, and foals. The steep, rolling hills are still green from the winter rains, and pooled with the deep shade of gnarled live oaks. Grapes are putting out their transparent green leaves on the dark vines.

At the garden center, we loaded up on practical greenhouse plants for Megan and pretty flowers for me. There was hardly room for us in the car, so it was a good thing we hadn’t brought the dogs this time, even though it was Star’s 10th birthday. Happy birthday, Star (seen here exploring the greenhouse):

To be fair, Megan did buy special birthday treats for Star to share with her BFF Stella (seen here lounging in their garden beds):

so it’s not like we didn’t celebrate this auspicious occasion.

We picked up some extreme takeout at El Mexicano and headed home. It was a good day.

*We recently had some folks coming to the Big Town from Sacramento for a meeting. Needless to say, the drive took much longer than they expected. When they texted that they were just leaving Willits and would be there in half an hour, we all laughed uproariously. It took them nearly an hour and a half. It takes me about an hour.

A YEAR AGO: A surprisingly life-affirming flat tire

FIVE YEARS AGO: A less than delightful Monday the 13th.

TEN YEARS AGO: How to turn $20 into crack.

Evening Out

It had been far too long since we had eaten at Luna Trattoria, and far too long since we had seen a play in the Village. We set out to remedy both of those omissions on the same night.

Our multi-tasking was made easier by the fact that Luna had moved to the Village from the Big Town. Megan’s parking luck held as we pulled up right outside:

We followed a very pretty gardeny path to the restaurant:

where we were greeted by both Lu and a mob of people. The restaurant does not take reservations except for large parties, and the place was jam packed. We went to wait in the little garden outside.

It was the first time I had seen Lu since the first grandchild arrived about three weeks earlier, so we had lots of catching up to do. It is somewhat alarming when your friends start becoming grandparents. The baby himself is lovely:

He is a happy baby and despite his impressive size (nearly 10 pounds at birth), is as relaxed as his début, where his mother slept through labor and it took a mere 20 minutes for Dean to arrive in the world. Can’t ask for better than that.

When our table was ready, we went upstairs, past the singer who had also sung at Lu and Rik’s wonderful wedding. It was less hectic up there:

and we had time to drink some wine and nibble on bruschetta while we decided what to have for dinner:

Lu had lasagna, Megan had pasta sangiovese, and I had penne alla vodka:

It was delicious. You can tell that they make their own pasta and it is really good. It was so nice to enjoy our dinner and each other’s company.

After dinner, we made our way to the theater:

where Megan again parked right out front. Inside, we discovered that the lobby had become more elegant:

The bar, and more importantly, the bartender were the same. In honor of the play we were about to see, Blackbird, he concocted a black cocktail with blue curaçao, vodka, lime, and cranberry juice, garnished with blueberries:

It turned out to be better than the play. From the description:

“He moves to another town. He changes his name. But now she finds him and confronts him about a 15 year old crime – a crime for which he’s been to prison. This hauntingly poetic play by one of Scotland’s most notable playwrights will challenge audience members to question their perceptions.”

we thought it would be a mystery, but it turned out to be about a victim of statutory rape (then aged 12) hunting down and confronting her rapist years later. It was pretty upsetting stuff. The acting was really good, but it wasn’t quite the fun night out we were expecting. At least dinner and the company were wonderful!

A YEAR AGO: A fun day at the bookstore. Is there any other kind?

FIVE YEARS AGO: The birth of an orchard.

TEN YEARS AGO: Ugh. What a horrible trip.

Bookish

Our county is big – the size of two small states, blended up and garnished with hippies, intellectuals, rednecks, and artists with a bottle of wine and a joint on the side – but the population is small. Its nearly 4,000 square miles is home to a mere 86,000 people, or about 23 people per square mile (less if you live in Hooterville). So the pool of people, whether it’s for dating or jobs or pretty much anything else, is limited.

It’s also not the wealthiest place, so everyone from the volunteer fire departments (thank you, guys!) to my workplace are always holding fundraisers. Sometimes it seems that half the county is selling stuff to the other half. Having had to deal with the nightmare of the annual work fundraiser and the difficulty of finding and keeping Board members at work made me sympathetic to a plea from our local library to attend one of their Board meetings with a view to possibly becoming a Board member.

Although this is a shockingly adult thing to contemplate, I went to the meeting on a sunny Friday morning. The library Board meetings are held at a civilized 10:00 am rather than the depressing 5:00 pm of the monthly work Board meetings.

They are usually held in the community room rather than in the library proper, but it was a staff training day, so the staff was using that room. It also meant that although I was in the library and equipped with my card – acquiring which, you may remember, was about the first thing I did when I moved here – I was unable to actually pick up the books which were waiting for me, since the staff was otherwise occupied.

I perched on a pouf and observed the proceedings. It’s safe to say that I was the youngest person there, possibly by decades. It’s nice to feel youthful as time marches on in its inexorable way. They seemed like a nice bunch of people and there was a pleasing lack of drama.

The library is looking to expand and it would be interesting to be part of that. I love the library and our community so perhaps getting involved this way would be a good thing. My boss has no problem with my taking a very early lunch one day a month (it certainly makes the afternoon long, though). I am planning to attend the next meeting and make a decision from there.

A YEAR AGO: Of time and place.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A graveyard stroll.

TEN YEARS AGO: Stuck in the airport.

Trafficking


Public Service Announcement

Tourist season is upon us. The dreaded out of state plates are popping up all over, and their driving 15-20 miles an hour below the speed limit gives us plenty of time to read them (and weep). They are accompanied by their equally despised brethren, the lumbering RV, all of them merrily sparkling with brake lights at every curve. It’s festive, you know.

It reminds me of the seasonal change from the speed of hockey to the majesty of baseball. At this time of year, the hockey playoffs overlap with the start of the baseball season, and you can practically get whiplash shifting gears from the nearly nonstop action of hockey to the relative stillness of baseball. Sure, they run around the bases and in the outfield, but a lot of it is standing there. Not to mention 9 innings versus 3 periods. When the seasons change again, hockey will seem super fast and baseball will seem normal. It’s all about perception, right?

On the message boards, the advent of tourist season is heralded by the announcement that the 2 hour parking downtown will actually be enforced for the next few months. It’s always the law, but disregarded most of the year.

Summer Enforcement of 2 Hour Parking in Downtown is starting! Parking Enforcement Attendant, Valerie T will be touring the downtown areas, chalking tires and issuing parking citations when necessary. So say hello to Valerie, before she says hello to you.

There’s non-human traffic, too:

From: n——-@earthlink.net
Subject: llama loose on lansing at 3:40pm

Heading north in a hurry. black head/cream colored body.

Forewarned is forearmed.

We aren’t merely concerned with traffic on earth, though. Some of us are reporting possible alien visitors:

*National UFO Reporting Center*
Sighting Report
Occurred : 12/31/2017 20:00 (Entered as : 12/31/2017 20:00)
Reported: 12/31/2017 8:36:32 PM 20:36
Posted: 1/18/2018
Location: Fort Bragg, CA
Shape:
Duration:3 minutes
3 orbs with red lights all were moving one in middle stopped then vanished.
Then other two orbs stopped and vanished. The orbs were traveling from
south to north.

Wonder if aliens fly really slow?

A brief, but sincere, cri de coeur:

From: P M buddhaman420@gmail.com
Subject: Weed

Left my bag in your ride. Where are you guys?

I guess the guy’s email address tells you all you need to know. And we are famous for weed around here.

The message board are useful for locating, or attempting to locate, people as well as bags of weed:

From: s——-@mcn.org
Subject: Susan N—–

Is she on here??? Susan!!! I have some donkey pics to send u…

Who wouldn’t want donkey pics? Or maybe who would?

The last storm was a doozy and there was much comparison of rainfall at various locations and questioning about road closures. These caused something of a dilemma for one of my neighbors:

For yesterday and today I have 5.7″ on my glass gauge and 5.61″ on the digital as of 8 pm. Has anyone traveled Flynn Creek Road and Comptche Ukiah to hiway 128? Got a friend with a 90th birthday in Santa Rosa tomorrow. I am wavering between love and stupidity, but not as far as insanity.

When you’re done, you’re done. This delightfully named gentleman may be the original Grumpy Old Man:

Merlin Tinker announces his Retirement. I’ve repaired Sewing Machines and Clocks on the Coast for 48 years.That’s more than enough. I quit. I retire.

Please don’t ask if I can refer someone to take my place. No, I’m
retired. I’ve done enough. Find your own someone.

I turn 80 this year. I should have retired at 65, but kept responding
to calls.

Maybe close to half a century of repairing other people’s stuff will do that to you.

And perhaps Monkey can pick up Merlin’s discarded magic wand:

From: b——@gmail.com
Subject: ISO Monkey, the Electrician

Have small electrical upgrade job for him at Be Kind Farm.

Maybe Monkey can take some donkey pics while he’s there?

A YEAR AGO: Oh, Blake. We still miss you. It was so hard to say goodbye.

FIVE YEARS AGO: An early (and unpleasant) heat wave.

TEN YEARS AGO: An early appearance of the cat who would become my dear Henry Etta, here known as Grey Cat. I am so glad I brought her with me when I escaped from Oakhampton!