Archive for December, 2018

Dec 31 2018

2018

When I was a kid, my Dad used to jokingly say, “When things were bad, they told me, ‘Cheer up! Things could get worse!’ So I cheered up, and sure enough, things got worse!” Well, I never did cheer up from the effects of 2017, but 2018 was even worse. I really can’t see it end soon enough.

Besides the horrors nationally and globally, Erica’s mother died suddenly and horribly just days before the equally sudden and unexpected death of the best man at my long-ago wedding. The effects of these losses continue to echo, most notably with Erica and Jessica fleeing not just the county, but the country. There was no Junapalooza this year and there never may be again without the assistance and inimitable presence of my near birthday twin and aesthetic soulmate.

Megan and Rob moved away, too, leaving me the last one standing at the property our brother first moved to 25 years ago. They lived in that little house for 20 years – the only house they ever lived in, in fact. Before that, they lived on a boat at Pier 39, and before that, Megan lived in an apartment with me. Mom spent the last few years of her life in that house, and Dad visited us there, including the Thanksgiving when he had a stroke on the driveway. And don’t forget my Christmas concussion in Megan’s living room! There are a lot of memories in that tiny place. Megan and Rob live just down the road now, but I miss having them here. Another ending.

Add in some expensive and agonizing dental hell and seemingly endless problems and drama on the property where I live, and you have the kind of year where a girl who loves Christmas doesn’t have any decorations up and in fact ignored the whole thing. I didn’t send any cards out this year, so if you didn’t get one from me, it’s not you, it’s me.

It’s probably not surprising in this underperforming year that I read only 102 books versus last year’s 114, and we have only received a paltry 10 inches of rain so far this season.

On the bright side (though not as far as Audrey is concerned), I adopted a little Siamese cat named Dodge, and he’s still alive so far, defying the odds.

Here’s to a less crappy New Year. I don’t think I can take it if I’m back here a year from now, telling you how 2018 looks like the good times.

January: I still had the plague from the old year. Not a good way to start the new one. When is a potato bucket not a potato bucket? When it’s a cat latrine, of course. Watching the surfers and ballerinas in Point Arena. The beauty of the lunar eclipse – and a perfect cocktail or two.

February: Both the weather and the mail were delightfully surprising. It was the Mondayest of Mondays and the smallest of small town days. I note that Wednesday’s engine light is still on, a full year later. A power outage at work, but not at home. Thankfully.

March: Rob’s amazing ceramic art. The most unpleasant time change of the year, and a delightful visit to Angelika’s little salon in the big woods. The beginning of the dreaded mattress saga. Not one of my finer decision-making moments. Celebrating Dad’s birthday. Stormy weather and the continuing mattress saga. Mark repaired some problems at my house. I note that he mentioned then that he was planning to move, and he eventually did.

April: Spring arrived, along with more silliness on my part than usual. Spring fever? A huge storm dumped a bunch of rain on us. Amazingly, the power stayed on. The horror of the mattress saga finally ended. Enjoying some local history and scandal. My blog turned 17 and Jessica turned 15.

May: Considering joining the library Board. A delightful dinner, a creepy play, and the debut of Lu and Rik’s first grandchild. A road trip to Willits to buy plants for the garden, and Star’s 10 birthday! Two sudden and unspeakably tragic deaths in one week.

June: A memorial service right before Erica’s and my birthdays inspired us to skip the celebrations. There was no Junapalooza either. I had taken time off for my birthday and was rewarded by getting the flu again less than six months after having it. The welcome discovery of wood-fired pizza in the Village. Despite everything, I’m grateful for the love and support around me.

July: My DNA test results. The beauty of the annual quilt show. A delightful outing to Point Arena, replete with delicacies from Franny’s and a play streamed from London. Both my back and my heart ached with the news of my former mother-in-law’s death. Rest in peace, dear Marj. The breathtaking Flynn Creek Circus and the terrifying wildfires.

August: Megan and Rob get ready to move from their home of 20 years onto the family estate. Giving away the things that wouldn’t fit in their new place. The seventeenth anniversary of Dad’s untimely and unnecessary death. I will never stop loving or missing him. The arrival of little Dodge, the beautiful little Siamese cat.

September: Megan and Rob were all moved in to their new place, and Dodge was finding his place in his new family. The beginning of Dental Hell, leading to my first (and hopefully last) root canal. The delights of the Fair.

October: The case of the disappearing landlord. Catching you up on some details. A trip to the hospital for my string of pearls. The last sleepover with Jessica. A lovely lunch and an enchanting garden.

November: The annual cider pressing. Swamped in smoke from distant, late season wildfires. In November! More updates about various things around the Manor. Hint: Not many of them are good. Remembering my grandfathers on the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day. Sometimes I feel like John and I are the only people in California who wear poppies for Remembrance Day.

December: A memorable version of King Lear with the amazing Sir Ian McKellen. The great escape. The always delightful festival of lights. A lovely evening, including a live (and lively) 1940s style radio play. The Christmas that wasn’t.

A YEAR AGO: Looking back at another bad year.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Lots of trips to San Francisco, a shiny new divorce, a new car, and the arrival of Stella, among other good things.

TEN YEARS AGO: Adjusting to life in Oaktown.

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Dec 26 2018

Ex-mas

Published by under Cats,Country Life

Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny after a night of heavy rain. It may have been the loudest and heaviest rain I remember hearing here. It was a little scary, and I’m pretty sure even Rudolph couldn’t have made it through that storm. I also acquired a new leak, in the foyer, which I discovered by stepping into the icy puddle in my habitually bare feet. Because when it’s sunny or starry in the winter, it’s cold, since the insulating layer of clouds are gone.

I could see my breath in the house, and the cats approved my decision to put the heater on, Dodge sitting on top of it and Clyde right in front of it, Audrey remaining in her mystery spot™. She has been scarce these days, either nowhere to be seen or scowling from her throne.

It was a hot water only shower on Christmas Day, and even then the water was perched perilously on the edge of acceptability. But at least there was water. Ever since my brother took over managing the well, we have not run out of water. A girl could get used to this.

I had meant to watch “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and the Grinch, but when it came down to it, I didn’t want to. I also didn’t do my annual reading of “The Box of Delights”, watch NORAD’s Santa Tracker or the Queen’s Speech, or any other Christmas traditions. It was too depressing, especially since I had to work the next day, and who can truly enjoy the day before work? Especially in your chilly and resolutely undecorated house all by yourself.

Maybe next year will be different.

A YEAR AGO: Little did I know this would be our last Christmas together.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A sunny and delightful Christmas. With Gucci shoes, yet.

TEN YEARS AGO: Christmas at Megan’s old house. Those were the days.

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Dec 24 2018

Magic

Published by under Country Life,Special Occasions

Even though I’m skipping Christmas this year, I was still delighted to learn that the local theater was putting on a holiday show.

Megan and I decided to have a pre-theater dinner at Luna Trattoria since we enjoyed our last dinner there so much. This time was just as delicious. I couldn’t resist having the penne alla vodka again, and Megan had fettucine with grilled prawns. They make their own pasta and it’s perfection.

After dinner, we made our way to the theater. We were somewhat disappointed to learn that there was not a special, festive drink for the holiday show. Visions of something pepperminty or maybe pomegranate or cranberry based, garnished with holly or something, had been dancing in my head. I tried to keep my dismay to myself, and settled for a drink from a previous production.

Even more disappointing than the lack of theme drink was having seats in the next to last row instead of the first row. When I saw the notice of the play on Facebook, I tried to buy tickets online, only to get an error message. I called the box office the next day, only to discover that it was mostly sold out and we’d have to settle for suboptimal seats.

Despite these minor inconveniences, the play itself was delightful. It was a 1940s radio play version of “Miracle on 34th Street”, complete with retro microphones and a guy on stage doing sound effects. There were ads and jingles for Lux soap, the sponsor of the show, and memorably, the Andrews Sisters, played by three charmers from the local high school. They effortlessly and adorably sang this very complex tune, as well as their hit Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy, and were poised and charming when interviewed on the radio. It was a wonderful evening.

A YEAR AGO: Did you know Peter Pan was a horror movie? Well, it is. Or at least this particular production was. It has entered family parlance as something really bad happening now being called “getting Peter Panned”.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A very enjoyable day at work. I miss the golden years of the jobette.

TEN YEARS AGO: A good mail day.

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Dec 19 2018

Lights

Published by under Country Life,Special Occasions

Just because you’re a pre-conversion Grinch who doesn’t have a single decoration up at your house or even one Christmas card in the outbound mail doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the magic of the Festival of Lights.

Despite the fact that we are skipping Christmas this year, Megan and I were looking forward to the Festival of Lights at the Botanical Gardens. Even though we arrived on the early side, the regular parking lot was already full and we had to settle for the overflow parking lot next door. Fortunately for us, the overflow lot was close to the entrance for those of us with prepaid tickets, so it all worked out well.

Once inside, we were delighted by a dragon, flamingoes, and other exotic creatures:

Somehow, the windswept cypress trees reminded me of the giraffes’ native Africa:

The jellyfish seem to float in the air:

I loved the dramatic lighting on the succulent garden:

The erupting volcano was complete with smoke:

The sailing ship was complete with whale tail:

It was a magical, glittering evening.

A YEAR AGO: Surviving the office Christmas party.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A surprise birthday for Jarrett.

TEN YEARS AGO: A Christmas memory.

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Dec 13 2018

Escape

Published by under Cats,Country Life

The Fugitive

Little Dodge managed to sneak out of the house when the help wasn’t looking. The help was horrified to discover this in the early morning darkness. Clyde was also visibly dismayed, going from door to window to door and peering outside anxiously. I wouldn’t be the worrier I am if I didn’t think, “Clyde can’t go through this again”, fearing that Dodge, after a mere four months in my incompetent hands, had vanished into the woods like the incomparable Roscoe and the gorgeous June. Cats have about the same survival rate in my house as Victorian infants.

Audrey, of course, was smirking from her throne, clearly thinking, “Thought he’d never leave!”

I went out into the darkness and called Dodge, shaking treats and trying to convince him to come home. He had never been outside since I brought him home, and when he was outside before, it was on city streets, which have different dangers than the woods, so this just ratcheted up the worry.

Eventually, I heard his characteristic meow and caught a glimpse of his distinctive fur in the beam of the flashlight. But he vanished under the stairs. Attempts to get Dodge to emerge from his hiding place were severely hampered by the appearance of Mark’s herd of dogs, who were overly interested and trying to be helpful. I shooed them away, but Dodge stayed hidden.

I later learned that cats often do this: continue to hide even though they can hear their owners’ voices and the gladsome sound of treats. Apparently, some kind of survival mode kicks in and they just stay as still as possible until they think the danger has passed. Also they generally stay in the immediate radius of their house, unless scared away by a dog or car or something like that.

All these things were true, since Dodge remained hidden under the house for most of the day. I began to worry about his being out there in the dark yet again as the day went by. Eventually, the little rascal emerged from his hiding place long enough for me to scoop him up and bring him triumphantly into the house.

Clyde wasted no time in carefully examining and sniffing his wayward companion, finally giving him a welcome home bath while Audrey glowered. Curses! Foiled again!

Dodge busied himself with treats and food, and then curled up on the couch with Clyde as if nothing had ever happened.

A YEAR AGO: The delights of candlelight shopping.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Seasonal chill.

TEN YEARS AGO: It was hailing like crazy. And Henry and I were getting closer.

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Dec 09 2018

Lear

Published by under Country Life,Special Occasions

This is my first post for December! That’s pretty bad, even by my low standards. You can probably guess that this means things have not been going well in Suzy World, and you would be correct. I won’t bore you with the dreary details*, but suffice it to say that things are crazy at work and at home and it has (temporarily, I hope) sucked the frivolity out of our heroine.

I took a break from the madness to head to the south coast with my sister during a break in the rain. So far, this year’s rain has been a Lebowski level slacker, with barely 6 inches to date and only about 4 months to get more. Despite the lack of rain, the road to civilization was closed. This was because the sandbar at the mouth of the river had failed to breach, making the river overrun its banks. Fortunately for us, we were taking that left at Albuquerque the bridge to the south coast.

Our first stop was Franny’s Cup & Saucer, where we provisioned ourselves with delicacies, some for lunch and some for later. Among these were a fruit slipper, puff pastry wrapped around lemon custard with apple and berries, and a lemon-blackberry cupcake with a jaunty toasted meringue cap. Picking up dinner at Anchor Bay Thai Kitchen concluded our extreme takeout efforts.

Replete with deliciousness, we arrived at the Art Deco theater in Point Arena, where “King Lear” was being streamed from London with Ian McKellen in the title role. He is clearly a big draw, much like Benedict Cumberbatch was a few years ago. This wasn’t standing room only, but it was pretty full, and we were saddened to discover that the balcony was occupied and we had to sit in the main part of the theater. Don’t they know who we are?

This minor annoyance soon vanished as the play began and we were swept into the drama. Sir Ian may be nearly 80, but he gave a powerhouse performance. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, whether he was being the imperious ruler or the grief-stricken father or a man who might be suffering from dementia or madness. He made you feel his vulnerability and see why his loyal friends remained loyal to him. It was a performance we won’t soon forget.

A YEAR AGO: I see my mental state left something to be desired then, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Frozen pipes and Christmas trees. ‘Twas the season! Still ’tis, but I’m ignoring it.

TEN YEARS AGO: The peacocks on the Christmas tree looked pretty as long as they lasted. Which wasn’t long.

*If you’re really curious, as I tend to be, email me at sjpeakallATgmail.com and I’ll share the unenjoyable facts of my life with you.

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