Suzy Says

It’s my birthday eve and I am off to San Francisco to celebrate.

The city seems to be my celebration theme this year, since I also kicked off the new year by going there. This time, I’m attending a seminar on my actual birthday, and then the seminar hosts are grandly taking us all to see the Giants play the Toronto Blue Jays – from a luxury box. How’s that for a birthday party?

I’m hoping that the cats have used up their naughtiness quotas for the week, though this seems unlikely.

Yesterday Clyde went over to Megan’s house to cat burgle – or attempt to cat burgle – Harriet’s and Ramona’s food. The weather has been beautiful lately, so Megan’s doors, like mine, were open. Clyde took this as an invitation to check out what the neighbor cats were eating. Megan’s dogs, however, had a different opinion.

Small, stripy Schatzi, who is the most polite dog ever to all cats, has been chased away from my house by the small, stripy Audrey, who has done the same thing with the much bigger Luna. But let one of my cats turn up on Schatzi’s home turf, and it’s a different story. Megan was drinking coffee on the couch and said it was all over before she realized it was happening.

There was a scuffle in the kitchen, a water bowl went flying, and Star joined Schatzi in the feline eviction with such enthusiasm that they almost knocked Rob over in the driveway. Megan said it was like “Scuffle! Sploosh! %@#@$%^#%$^!” and then all that was left was the dust in the air (and the water on the kitchen floor).

Not to be outdone, Roscoe decided that my last night at home for most of the week and the one right before a four hour drive the next day was the perfect time for him to stay out all night. I saw him slink under the house, so I was pretty sure he was nearby, and tried to vanquish thoughts of how the beautiful June disappeared on my birthday three years ago.

Needless to say, sleep was sporadic, and I kept getting up and calling him. All the outside lights were on to try and keep the marauding monsters at bay, but you know that I am a Worrier. At last, around 4:00 am, Roscoe came calmly out of the darkness and into the house, where he had a snack and then curled up next to me in bed, so I couldn’t be mad at him.

Let’s hope they behave better for Megan!

Faithful readers know that the decaying and useless hot tub has been a bête noire for me since I first moved into my little house in the pygmy woods nearly four years ago. The rest of the garden looks pretty nice after years of work, but then you have this eyesore in the middle:

The boys deemed it unfixable, which is saying something, and showed me the somewhat alarming Jamesification that heated the water (open gas flame inside a wooden structure, anyone?). I talked to Mark about it before he left for his year on the East Coast, but there were a lot more pressing problems to deal with. But one day I came home and found that the hot tub had (mostly) been removed.

The motor is still left, since Mark’s envoy wasn’t sure if it was hard wired or otherwise too dangerous to yank out. Someone is supposed to come and look at it sometime and take it away, at which point I will put the glass table with its umbrella and chairs there. Hopefully I can convince the long-suffering Rob to get rid of the post and I can get rid of the path to nowhere. I might have get a little more gravel, but on the whole, it’s less of a mess:

You can tell the cats are thinking, “Where’s our couch?” and “I’m pretty sure there used to be something here to jump onto.” Here you can see Clyde visibly wondering what the hell:

Surprisingly, they are able to jump to the ground or into one of the chairs from the (slippery) glass rooflet on the back porch.

Cats are amazing.

In other hot tub news, my brother went all the way to Willits to acquire a second hand and reasonably-priced Japanese wood-fired hot tub called a Chofu. Like tofu, only not gross. Since space is at a premium in Japan, the unit which holds the logs is very small, but well insulated and efficient. The tub is big enough to hold four people and overlooks the palatial garden. As you can imagine, it’s a favored place to hang out and relax after hours of working on said garden.

America’s Next Top Model

The week may have started out on a sour note, but it ended on a sweet one.

Megan’s birthday is next Saturday, but we celebrated her birthday yesterday. Our friends Rik and Lu, who are both EMS workers, are so busy that it’s hard to find a day when they are both available, especially once summer starts and they start being the medics on hand at festivals and events all over Northern California. They also spent a month in Honduras this spring, helping out as volunteers at clinics in remote areas.

Since they were available on Friday, Friday it was. Monica and her husband Joe (he’s in the background of the picture of Jessica) came, as well as Erica, Jessica, Lichen and Phoebe, and we all had a wonderful time.

Lu and Rik had raised a couple of pigs which were slaughtered a few weeks ago, so they brought ribs and pork burgers. I usually don’t eat pigs due to humane reasons and environmental ones – and living half a block from an overly active abbatoir for a few years, especially in the summer, didn’t help matters – but I found myself unable to resist. Everything smelled and looked delicious, and I knew they had been raised kindly and without pesticides and antibiotics, so I indulged. I don’t know what Rik spiced the burgers with, but they were the best burgers I have ever had.

Besides the porkapalooza, we had barbecued shrimp for which I made charmoula sauce, and Megan made grill bread. Lu brought her famous salad of quinoa, spinach, red onions, almonds, mint, cilantro and lemon dressing, and Monica brought a lovely caprese salad with heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil and mozzarella.

You’d think that would be enough, but Jonathan* made a pie from the strawberries he picked from the garden that very day:

Erica brought graham crackers which she made from scratch that day – only Erica would actually make graham crackers – and marshmallows, which she made with chocolate nibs embedded inside them. Again, only Erica. We toasted the marshmallows over the fire and spread them on the graham crackers for instant s’mores.

We sat around the fire laughing and talking as the dogs romped around the garden and the sun set behind the trees. It couldn’t have been a more perfect evening.

*He was wearing a t-shirt that read “You can’t trust atoms. They make up everything”.

You’d think that last year’s garden building extravaganza would have tuckered my siblings out, and that all they’d want to do this year is hang out in the palatial 6,400 square foot garden with an adult beverage or two. Instead, they decided to build an orchard next to the garden.

You remember the drill, right? Your machinery-wielding friend comes and digs up the unyielding soil:

Then you remove all the root balls by hand and import truckloads of real dirt and dig holes for the new trees:

I “helped” by digging the last two holes. One was way too deep and other wasn’t wide enough.

Megan and Rob moved two of their apple trees over to the new orchard. Here you see the boys working on the problem of getting the trees from the truck into their new homes:

And here’s one of the trees after replanting. You can see that it’s covered in a lichen called “Old Man’s Beard”, a relative of the famous Spanish Moss one sees on trees in the South. This particular lichen is extremely sensitive to air pollution, so you can see that the air in Hooterville is pretty clean:

After that, it was time to spread hay all over and seed it with vetch to keep the dirt from blowing away in the dry summer months:

They also installed a drip system, since hand watering 19 trees is too onerous a task, even for them.

Yes, 19 trees, including various apples, Asian pears, regular pears, cherries, plums, and peaches. The trees started flowering in February, to the delight of the bees on the property:

It’s been deer- and rabbit-fenced, but it will have to be electrified at some point to discourage marauding bears from raiding the fruit.

Whenever I hear Bruce Springsteen sing “Working on a Dream”, I think of my hard-working siblings and the dream they are making into reality.

Evening at the historic Little River Inn

I’ve been so busy with one thing and another that I totally forgot my own blog’s 12th birthday on April 20. Not to mention Star’s 5th birthday on Cinco de Mayo (5/5). Happy belated birthday to both of us!

On Friday, Monica texted me to suggest that Megan and I meet her for a drink that evening at Little River Inn. I checked with Megan and she was free, so we went to town and ran some errands and then headed to Little River.

Miss Star had come along for the ride, so we took her for a walk in the cemetery before we met Monica. We waved at our brother, who passed us as we were getting Star out of the car. I think it’s a very pretty place:

It’s not very big, but it’s peaceful and dotted with very old stones. You can walk all the way to the ocean if you know where to go. On this occasion, we just wandered around closer to the road since we didn’t have a lot of time before meeting Monica.

This stone commemorates someone with the remarkable name Dreeme Life Ball:

He or she died in 1917, so it’s not (as you might think) a hippie name. The stone bears the lovely inscription “To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” Tied for coolest name in the graveyard is Haskett Severance. I like the wheat sheaf:

Sadly, this lovely rose-carved stone commemorates Haskett’s only daughter, Mary Ella, who was only 16:

At the bottom of her stone, it touchingly reads “Though lost to sight, to memory dear.”

The Bretts, whose tomb is quite magnificent, lost all five of their children in the 1800s:

It must have been pretty hard up here in pioneer days. Sometimes I think about how it must have been for families back then. It’s still a relatively isolated area.

It was time to meet Monica, so we loaded Star back in the car and headed to the historic Inn. We perched at the bar and ordered drinks: a mojito for Megan and a Margarita for me. Monica soon joined us, and it was great to catch up on each other’s news and spend some time together.

As we headed home in the fading evening sun, I thought about how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place, and to have such good friends- one of which is my sister,

Well, the heat wavelet turned out to be wishful thinking. We’ve been blasted by temperatures in the high 80s for the past four days, which is about four days too long.

True, we don’t have the bone-crushing humidity they have back East, and unlike that side of the country, it actually cools down at night to about 45 or 50 degrees. This should be good for sleeping, but when you live in a house shaped like an upside down rowboat, the heat congregates up in the pointy part, which is where I (try) to sleep. It throws a pretty smokin’ party up there and tends to multiply. You know how some parties can be.

Though thankful for the screen door Rob installed (and not a moment too soon) and having a fan up there, it’s been pretty hard to sleep for the past three nights. I’ve gone through a three pound bag of ice in as many days.

It’s nearly impossible to get an accurate weather forecast, partly because of the many microclimates and partly because we live in such an obscure corner of the world, but it appears that the heat is going to be moving on tomorrow, though it may just be more wishful thinking on my part.

On Thursday, Megan, Rob and I sweated our way to the Big Town for the open house at the fine woodworking school. You may recall how impressed I was by the show in February, and I was excited about sharing it with them.

We were warmly greeted by the students, and Rob, a former carpenter and wood worker himself, had some good conversations. I was pleased to meet the creator of my favorite piece from the earlier show, the delightfully named Sarah Marriage, and tell her how much I love her roll top desk:

I was completely enchanted by these lamps:

They would look perfect on my curved walls, don’t you think?

I was charmed by this curvaceous chair:

This spectacular table was made of madrone, a local wood, and jarrah, a member of the eucalyptus family, which was new to me:

The cutting board on the table has a note explaining that it was made of “wood found in the firebox”. Nice use of scraps:

Behind the school were the mock ups, or drafts, of the beautiful finished work. It was fun to see them:

We also admired the view:

There’s a stream and in the distance you can almost see the trestle the historic Skunk Train passes over. It’s a beautiful setting for a building full of beautiful things.

Megan and Rob enjoyed the show as much as I did, and we had a lot to talk about as we headed to the local brewery’s Tap Room & Grill for dinner. We discovered that the menu had changed quite a bit, but I enjoyed my Carolina BBQ and Rob his fish and chips. Megan was a little less enthused with her pizza, but we had a good time together and enjoyed the cool of the restaurant and the iced tea.

After dinner, we got some handmade local ice cream. Of course, we didn’t forget Miss Star, who enjoyed her little scoop of vanilla hugely:

After that, we headed home in the setting sun, replete with a good dinner and a happy evening together.

Shadows

It was hot’n’heinous yesterday and slated to be the same today. This is an unusual (I hope) phenomenon here on the Coast.

It was 85 degrees when I got home around 6:00 last night, just in time to witness the Leafs lose their first playoff game in 8 years in a spectacular fashion. Good thing I stopped at the store for a bag of ice (and Otter Pops) on my way home, so I could put ice in my drink. It melted almost as quickly as I did.

I was very thankful for the screen door Rob installed for me. It still needs a doorknob and a real fastener, but I got a hook and eye and screwed them in. So far it’s keeping the door closed at night. I may be jinxing myself here, but the cats have pretty much ignored it so far, which I find sort of astonishing. I had expected Audrey to be crawling up it and clawing at it immediately. Last night she slept on top of the armoire, which is door (and breeze) adjacent, the clever girl.

It had been a fun day at the jobette. I chatted with a woman who had been a real, live Pan Am stewardess! I told her how much I loved the wonderful, glamorous, far too short-lived show, and she said that the reality was actually much more glamorous. How awesome is that? She said they stayed in the best hotels and had the best of everything, even though they weren’t paid that much.

The political intrigue and drama on the show was accurate, too. She was boarding a flight in Teheran (the friend who got her started as a stewardess was the personal flight attendant for the Shah) when the guy behind the desk took her passport and told her she couldn’t leave the country. She noticed that a Swissair flight was boarding, so she went to their desk and explained the situation. The Swissair guy told her to get on the flight to Geneva and he would get her passport to her. She did so, and just before the door closed, a hand appeared with her passport, which was given to the head flight attendant.

Talking to people and learning their stories is probably my favorite part of the jobette. And I continue to be amazed by how many exceptional people are attracted to this little corner of the world.

Megan’s way of welcoming me home

As you can see, Megan replenished the laundry supplies while I was gone. Megan’s little house has wiring even more eccentric than mine, and considerably weaker. She can’t run a washer or dryer, so she uses mine. She usually keeps the laundry room supplied, but due to one thing and other, we were running low and I made a note on the whiteboard shopping list before I left for the city.

I thought it was so sweet to find that little note! She also opened up the house for me, so it wouldn’t be hot when I got home in the late afternoon.

While Megan was shopping, Rob had not been idle, installing a screen door on the balcony. Here you see it looking from the inside out to the balcony:

You can see that some of the roses are still a little remedial. I treated them before I left, and Megan also squirted them with compost tea from the property to work on the black spot and powder mold that is plaguing them. Hopefully they will improve along with the weather.

Here’s looking from the balcony into the sleeping loft:

We still need to get a doorknob and some way of keeping the door closed, but it came with the metal reinforcements at the bottom, and I’m hoping that it will be kitty proof. One of the challenges of living in a house shaped like an overturned rowboat is that heat tends to rise and stay in the sleeping loft. It gets pretty warm up there if it’s anything over 65 degrees outside, so it would be great if I can keep the door open at night during the warmer months.

Rob and I bought the door a couple of weeks ago. The door, like many (most?) of the doors in the houses James designed and built, is an odd size, but it turns out that there is a guy in Hooterville itself who sells doors and windows of all shapes and sizes. So Rob and I hopped in the truck and went to his little establishment in the woods. This door actually fit with a couple of minor adjustments by my fearless brother-in-law, and it was nice to shop local.

When I was getting ready to leave* for Jessica’s birthday BBQ on Friday, my neighbor Aaron stopped by to tell me that Mark had asked him to get rid of the disused hot tub in my backyard. Yay! He and his puppy Lola took a look at it, and he thinks he can remove it in the next few days. I am hideously excited. Stay tuned…

*I had a bottle of wine in each hand, which I was loading into the car. Slightly embarrassing. The car was also full of all the folding chairs I could find, following Megan’s text asking me “Do you have any chaos we can stuff in the car to take with us?” Good old autocorrect.

After Megan and I closed up shop on Saturday, we stopped at the garden center to get my delayed ground cover:

It’s a plant called Lithadora, which sounds like a Harry Potter character, and this type is named White Star. I think it will look nice with the heather* and alyssum in the areas by the shed (see the fourth and fifth pictures). The alyssum is beginning to revive after the winter.

We were greeted enthusiastically by the owner’s beautiful dogs, Rio (left) and Rusty:

Part of the enthusiasm stems from the fact that Megan almost always gives them treats. Rusty in particular kept sniffing the pocket where the treats usually are, ever hopeful. Unfortunately, this time, she didn’t have any. The boys settled for pets and ushered us around.

Megan bought some praying mantises, still in their cocoons, which will act as pest control in the family garden and orchard. Apparently there are 100-200 mantises in each cocoon. She already has ladybugs hard at work over there.

We packed up the car with our purchases, petted the dogs goodbye (one last sniff from Rusty), and headed home. As we approached Little River, Megan suggested that we stop in at the historic Inn and have a drink, which we did.

We perched on bar stools in the Whale Watch Bar. As its name suggests, it has a stunning view of the ocean, even on a cloudy day like this one:

and you can actually see whales passing by during their annual migrations.

This is the first picture I have ever taken with my iPhone! And of course Megan had to show me how to do it and then how to post it to Facebook, since she had her iPhone for ages before I got mine.

I had a Melon Ball and Megan had a Cosmo, and we shared a plate of award-winning crab cakes before heading home.

It was a nice end to a busy day.

*I was amused to note when I bought these plants that their proper name is Erica. Amused because of the twins on Degrassi (Junior) High who were named Erica and Heather. Years later, I finally get the joke. I’m quick like that.

It wasn’t all storms last weekend, though.

On Friday, I did an extra shift at the jobette to finish up a project. I finished about half an hour later than I expected, crushing my grandiose dreams of stopping at the nursery for more ground cover. I had an appointment with the wonderful Angelika that afternoon to get my highlights refreshed, so I called her to tell her I was running late and got there as soon as I could.

I love Angelika’s little salon in the woods. Everything smelled like lavender and all the rush went out of me as she “painted” my hair two different colors (she literally painted some of it with a brush) and put it in paper to process. She deep conditioned it when it was done, and even waxed my eyebrows. We chatted and caught up on each other’s lives, and before I knew it, it was almost 5:30!

The next morning, Rob called me around 8:30 to ask me if I was ready to go to our 10:00 swim class. Since I was still in my PJs, the answer was “no”. His plan, unbeknownst to me, was to go to the Gro for smokes, then the grocery store in the Village for a travel mug, his having disappreared, and then the coffee shop for coffee to put in the mug. I threw some clothes on, petted the kitties, and raced out the door.

We accomplished all the java-related chores before hitting the pool (on time) for the last lesson of the series. They start again in two weeks. Then Rob dropped me off at the jobette.

Megan met me there a couple of hours before we closed, and she did a great job of helping me when there were several visitors at once. In fact, our Chairman and his wife were completely charmed by her before they knew she was my sister. And speaking of charming: a visitor from San Francisco gave me the ring off her finger!

I admired it in passing while answering her question, and she gave it to me to try it on. Then she wouldn’t take it back*. It’s from SF MOMA and I am wearing it right now, the sun slanting through the colorful stripes:

It looks great with my sparkly gel manicure.

The benevolent visitor also wrote a Haiku in celebration of First Friday. Every month, we have a different theme, and this month it was Haiku. Our County seat, Ukiah, is Haiku spelled backwards, so they have a festival every year. We joined in with ikebana, an ikebana demonstration, and do it yourself Haiku.

The arrangements were beautiful.

This one reads:

This one says:

Parducci winery poured that night, and this arrangement cleverly incorporated their wine bottles:

This one was still in our conference room when I took the picture. I love the vase:

Having Megan there made it so much more fun, too.

*Megan told me later that she almost told her that she liked the bracelet she was wearing – leather with mother of pearl buttons – but was afraid the generous visitor would give that away, too!

On Sunday, I woke up to the sound of birds singing and the ocean pounding against the rocks and cliffs.

I drove homeward through the same striking scenery, really pleased that I had taken the time to explore a different part of the County. I stopped in the town of Elk (population 200 or so, and originally named Greenwood, after the founders of the town, whose father was one of the rescuers of the ill-fated Donner Party) and bought a newspaper in the little local store:

The one person serving was busy with other customers, so I left the money on the wooden counter and told him as I was leavng. He saluted and thanked me while making a sandwich.

I took the paper with me to Queenie’s Roadhouse:

It had been years since I had been there. It used to be that they were open irregularly, so it was wise to call first and make sure they were open before making the drive. Now they are open from 8:30 to 3:00 every day but Tuesday and Wednesday.

It’s still wise to bring the paper with you. There is no cell service or wifi there, and since every order is made from scratch with organic and/or local ingredients, it’s not fast food. It gives you time to enjoy the lovely view:

I had an omelette with fresh broccoli, balsamic onions, chicken apple sausage, and sharp white Cheddar, accompanied by house potatoes, fluffy rye toast, and two home-made jams (apricot and raspberry).

Replete, I set off for home, noting that it took a mere 20 minutes to get to Hooterville. I will be back soon!

Nothing takes a girl’s mind off divorce paperwork and restraining orders like a drive down the coast to see a burlesque show, n’est-ce pas?

After work on Saturday, Miss Scarlett and I drove the serpentine road to the south coast. The scenery was breathtaking and I wished more than once that I didn’t have to keep my eyes on the hilly, curvy road. The ocean crashed against the rocky cliffs, and a migrating whale flipped a tail at me in greeting as I drove past. Fields were dotted with placid cows and swept with bright wildflowers. California poppies and wild mustard blazed in the green grass by the side of the road, and the trees, bent and twisted by decades of ocean winds, were positively Seussian.

I checked in at a little inn by the ocean and then made the short drive to the lovely Arts Center:

arriving just as the sun was setting. The room was set up like a nightclub, with little tables dressed in candles and black tablecloths. Red lanterns hung from the high ceilings, and the place was packed.

Soon, the show began, with Les Filles Rouges singing and dancing and making the audience laugh with delight. Unfortunately, photography was strictly forbidden, but you can get a little taste of the artistes’ playfully sassy style in this video (and see them both in the shop where Megan and I finally learned the truth about bra sizes, and sashaying down the street where the jobette is).

True to the famously eccentric nature of the County, the Filles were not your everyday ecdysiasts. Some were far thinner than most dancers, and some much curvier. One had blue hair, another was dramatically tattooed, and one was quite pregnant. She stole the show dancing to “Like a Virgin”, ending up with red, sequined, heart-shaped, tasseled pasties on her belly button as well as the usual places, which brought down the house.

It was a lot of fun and I don’t know who had a better time, the girls or the audience.

After the show, I made my way back to the inn, where I had a glass of wine by the fire and later fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing and the frogs joyously greeting the gentle spring rain.

Big River

Usually, my idea of traffic is having to wait for two other cars to turn onto the highway from our rough country road – especially if they’re not related to me. Actually, the major annoyances for me when driving are people who drive below the speed limit and won’t pull over, and the people who jump out in front of me and then drive below the speed limit, usually when the road behind me is completely empty. Extra credit (or demerits) to the cars with “local” license plates frames who do all of the above and brake at every curve.

A few days ago, a cement truck overturned in the afternoon in what we call “Dark Gulch” – a low and curvaceous part of the two lane highway signposted at 15 miles an hour – and when I drove home more than four hours later, it was still a one lane road as they cleaned it up.

As you come out of Dark Gulch into the light, you now find signs warning of road work and flaggers. Only problem – at least for me – is that the actual road work is about two miles south of the signs, and more importantly, about a mile past my turn off. Those not in the know immediately start driving about 20 miles an hour in a 50 zone, annoying the Suzy who just wants to get home.

On the way to work on the same day as the cement truck spill, there was some kind of work going on at Big River bridge which required some kind of enormous drill looking thing and which also reduced traffic to one lane (the other side) or a total stop (Me). Not only did it make me worry about being late for work, it also deprived me of the not inconsiderable pleasure of sweeping across that curving bridge (see above) with the ocean on one side and the river on the other. In any weather, it lifts my spirit.

At the jobette, I learned that a movie will be filming on the notoriously zig zaggy roads around here in the first two weeks in April. The road to the city is a motorcyclist’s Mecca, and it just makes sense that it will be the filming location for Need for Speed, starring Aaron Paul, my crush from Breaking Bad. Oh, and Michael Keaton.

I was the only one who knew who Aaron Paul was, and although this was less shocking than the time that my boss brought in a Wines That Rock bottle with the iconic image from Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and I was the only one who could actually identify the image (my favorite guess: “Is it some kind of gay pride thing?”), it was still a little surprising. Have none of you people seen Breaking Bad? And if not, why? Or more importantly, why?

Of course, I am scheduled to go to San Francisco on Jessica’s birthday, when filming is allegedly going to be complete, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it runs over, as filming is wont to do. Apparently the film crew will be equipped with helicopters to film the chase sequences, so maybe they’ll give me a lift if need be.

Every month at the jobette, we feature a different artist and try and have a theme for First Friday, the day we and other downtown businesses stay open late and pour wine and serve nibbles, alomg with book signings and meeting artists.

This month, we featured the fine woodworking students’ work from our local college, which was displayed at a gallery on Main Street this month. The students installed a wonderful window display at the jobette. Here it is from the inside – I couldn’t get an outside shot that wasn’t totally glare-y:

This is a very prestigious program, and students apply from all over the world for one of the 22 available spots. The students must be dedicated to their craft: they will be at school six days a week, eight hours a day. As you can see, however, the time is well spent.

This set is inspired by “Mad Men” and is called “Don and Roger”:

Here’s a better look at the top of the “Don” table, which certainly conveys the complexity and elegance of the mysterious Mr. Draper:

This corner cabinet is beautiful in itself:

But when you open it, the door looks like a wing, and you can see that the texture of the wood inspired the artist to make an altar to his totem animal, the owl:

It’s a very spiritual and moving piece. Guy, I thought of you when I saw it.

This was my favorite, an exquisite roll top desk with elegant, willowy legs:

So feminine! And so cleverly designed: the roll top vanishes into the body of the desk when it is rolled back.

I’m so proud of these young artists and what they have achieved. Their fiutures look bright – and beautiful.

It’s been a cold winter by California standards: at or below freezing many nights, though as I said before, the clear days are sunny and the nights are starry. The Ridge is often icy in the morning, and there is hard frost on the grass at the side of the road, looking all winter wonderland.

I know that doesn’t seem all that cold to all of you back East, where they keep the real weather in all its extremes, but your house probably has insulation, and you probably have heat in your bathroom. You probably also have closets and walls that don’t curve and more than three feet of counter space, too.

But Chez Suzy, the flash heater is located outside, instead of inside, the way it’s supposed to be, even out here in the boonies. For those of you wondering what this contraption is, it heats water on its way to your shower or kitchen sink (not the washer, though – that’s only hooked up for cold water). This winter, the shower has been just about warm enough, not quite, which is kind of unpleasant with the window in the shower blowing a draft on me in the cold mornings.

I figure this is because the water is being pre-cooled outside. But last week, it started getting colder. And then it was just plain cold.

Rob came and took a look at it, but it’s not really his forte. I emailed Mark about it, and he replied with some suggestions that didn’t help. A couple of days without hot water and it got pretty old, not at all like “Little House on the Prairie”, as you would think.

We called in the cavalry in the form of my brother, who took the flash heater apart – well, the plumbing part. Even a fireman didn’t want to start in on the gas part, and if it came to that, I’d have to take the whole thing to Willits to the one guy in the entire county who can repair one of these expensive German contraptions.

Apparently it is top of the line and costs something in the luxury neighborhood of $700 or $800. Jonathan complimented the German engineering and reminded me of one of our father’s old jokes:

“Heaven is where the police are British, the cooks are French, the mechanics German, the lovers Italian and it’s all organized by the Swiss. Hell is where the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, the police German and it’s all organized by the Italians.”

Dad was never afraid of the politically incorrect.

Jonathan discovered a mini pebble in the works, so small that it’s hard to believe it was the big problem, and a valve that was sticking. He removed the pebble and lubricated the sticky valve and voilà! The flash heater was restored to mediocrity instead of freezulation. Mediocrity never looked so good.

Jonathan mentioned that he has some insulation we can put on the outside pipes to help make it warmer, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying the (relative) warmth.

Update: I picked up and installed the insulation. I guess the water is a little warmer, though I still don’t need at add cold water to my shower, which I was kind of hoping for.

The worst thing about getting up at 5:30 in the morning – other than, you know, the getting up at 5:30 in the morning thing – is that it takes so long to get light enough to let the boys go out and play. Audrey, as the undisputed winner of “Survivor: Hooterville”, is allowed to go out in the pre-dawn (and post-sunset) darkness, but the boys have to wait until it’s light enough outside that I’m pretty sure the Monsters have clocked out.

Roscoe often gives up and goes back to bed. Roscoe is very clever at finding cozy nests to nap in, and his latest discovery is the pillows on the bed – he sits on top of them. He also sleeps under the covers with me almost every night, especially because it’s been so cold lately.

Clyde, on the other hand, usually perches on the heater until his patience runs out. Then it’s time to start clawing the couch and or rug, with maybe some jumping on the counter action thrown in for variety. He’s always anxious to go out in the morning, even though he’s usually the first one in at night, with an eye to the welcome home treats and dinner.

The other day, one of Mark’s chickens came by to say hello:

It was interesting to see how the cats reacted. Roscoe, in keeping with his ultra cool character, merely observed the intruder:

No point in getting all excited about a chicken.

Clyde, on the other hand, got ready to pounce:

But the chicken eluded him.

Audrey the Enforcer swung into action:

She ran the chicken off her territory and then sat on the porch in the sun, having a victory bath. Earlier that day, she had reared up on her back legs like a little bear and growled and clawed at poor Luna, who ran away in horror. Luna is about 75 pounds’ worth of dog, and Audrey is the size of her head. Go figure.

The other day I gave Rob a ride home from the Big Town. As usual, we had fun chatting in the car, and it was really hard not to look at the spectacular pink and gold sunset over the ocean. One of the many drawbacks of driving is that you can’t really admire the scenery, even though you’re driving right through it.

At Rob and Megan’s house, I carried in the Chico bags of groceries while Rob brought the dogs in. When I got home and started changing out of my work clothes, I discovered that my mother’s silver bracelets, which I wear every day, were missing.

My heart sank, and I looked through my pockets and handbag. Nothing. By now, it was too dark to look in the car or the driveway, but I thought that perhaps I had taken them off at the jobette and left them on my desk. I do that often when I have a lot of typing to do.

The next day, I looked in the car and the driveway and asked Megan to search her house and driveway. Arriving at the jobette, I rushed to my desk and there they weren’t. I asked my coworkers to keep an eye out for them, and called Starbuck’s, where I had met Megan and Rob the evening before. I talked to the girl who had closed that night and she said she hadn’t seen them. She checked the lost and found, and nothing.

Megan texted me later to say she hadn’t found them, either. I was surprisingly upset by the loss, and tried to tell myself that we shouldn’t get too attached to things and objects, but inside I just wanted to cry. We don’t have much left from our parents, so what we do have is especially precious.

Later in the day, I was putting things away in the storage room when I spotted my bracelets by the side of the sink. I had taken them off the day before when washing the dishes! I grabbed them and ran to show Erin, who hugged me and said, “Yay!” That pretty much summed it up for me.

Well, hello there!

Things have been really busy (and somewhat stressful) at the job and jobette ever since I got back from San Francisco. And as you know, work = no fun = nothing to blog about. I have the last three quarterly due diligence conference calls at 6 am on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday this week. Then I have to write up all ten of them, arguably the hardest and most time-consuming part of the process.

We had a little spot of rain the other day, but other than that, it’s been what my sister calls “Junuary”, sunny and in the 50s during the day, though cold and starry at night and frosty in the morning, the Ridge glittering with ice. I was surprised to see in the paper that we have received 27 inches of rain this season, versus 19 inches at this time last year – must have been those early season storms. Last night I noticed the first full moon of the new year beaming through the skylight of the sleeping loft.

I made a little time to head over to the property a couple of days ago. I realized that I hadn’t seen my brother for exactly a month, ever since Christmas Eve. Megan and the dogs came with me, and together we inspected the orchard in progress, which will be right next to the garden they created about this time last year.

There will be apple trees, peaches, and cherry trees. Olives and almonds are under consideration, as are raspberry bushes. Jonathan thinks they will have to electrify the fence, like the one around the bee hives. Otherwise, the bears will move right in and eat everything.

I picked up a hitchhiker this past week. I know what you’re thinking, but I only pick up people I know or the occasional woman. This was an older lady, who turned out to be a delightful German named Heidi, who has been visiting here since the 1970s. There seems to be a mystical connection between Germans and the County. My fabulous stylist is from Germany, as was Rose, my house’s previous owner and occupant. Even Rob was born in Germany. I asked Heidi what brought her here in the first place, and what kept drawing her back.

She said, “We Germans find all the best places. And there is nowhere on earth like Mendocino.”

On Saturday, Jessica woke up later than Audrey: about 7:00, when the sky is thinking about daytime but hasn’t really woken up yet.

I let Audrey out and started coffee before I heard Jessica’s voice wishing me good morning. We took our time waking up, Jessica looking through my jewelry collection and asking the occasional question while I caffeinated and read my fan mail. I am not quick at getting it together in the mornings, and some days I never do*.

Some of Jessica’s observations:

On Audrey: “She’s something of an evil genius, isn’t she?”

I asked Jessica if she thought it was light enough for the boys to go outside, and she said, “They’re cats. They’ll find their way.”

On the Tooth Fairy (Jessica lost two teeth over the holidays): “I think she melts down the old teeth and gets rid of all the icky stuff, and then makes them into new teeth.” A discussion ensued about whether the Fairy had helpers – after all, Santa has elves and provides a similar door to door world-wide service – and why we assume the Fairy is a girl.

We headed to the pool, where swimming lessons had started again. Yay! Once there, we discovered that the Powers that Be had meddled with the schedule, so instead of Jessica’s class starting right after ours, she had an additional 45 minute wait. Sallie, our teacher, is trying to change it back, so I guess we’ll see this Saturday.

Jessica’s response: “My mama always says, ‘Suck it up and deal'”. So she did.

I certainly noticed the three week hiatus as I splashed around. I’d have to say that breathing is still my biggest challenge. I can do the breast stroke perfectly if I don’t have to worry about the breathing part. But I was pretty tired when the class ended. Swimming makes me tired and hungry.

After class, it was time to get dressed and go to work, and the fun was officially over.

Until this Saturday, anyway.

*Today, for example, I forgot to put the gas cap on after I filled the car. I heard it go clunk as I drove away. I put it back on and then noticed a whale spouting in the ocean across the street from the gas station. Later, a visitor told me that she had been tracking this particular pod for years, and that three of the whales in it are tagged.

Weirdsday was followed by Funday.

I went to get my hair cut by the delightful Angelika, the same miracle-working stylist who beautified it in honor of my grand birthday last July. Here’s her little salon:

One of the good things about the iPhone is that I can add a note to her phone number with the directions to her house (go to the 3 mile marker; turn left at the power pole with the orange wrapping, etc.) so I won’t have to ask her every time. Since the looming photo shoot for the work website is the reason for the emergency haircut (not that I didn’t need it), I wonder if I can get my boss to pay for it?

We had a great time chatting and she did a wonderful job. I had just enough time to hop back in the car and go meet Erica and Jessica at our usual spot in the redwoods:

Jessica settled into the backseat with her little bag – she definitely travels light, though she brought four books* with her – and we set off for Hooterville with the winter sun filtering through the canopy of trees. I asked Jessica if she minded if I stopped off at the post office, and she said she didn’t mind, but she’d prefer to stay in the car. Post offices, she said, are boring, much like grocery shopping.

I asked her if it wasn’t fun to help pick out things to cook, and she said “Well, I’m a kid, so I don’t have a say,” which was a good point. It made me wonder all over again why on earth Dad piled us all into the car on Saturday mornings to go to the Victory Market (New York State) or Don’s Shop & Save (Maine) instead of just going by himself. And we didn’t get to pick things out, either. Though we did get to go to the library afterwards.

Back home, we dropped off the car and headed over to Megan’s. She was laying a fire in the stove and chopping things up for pizza. Megan made the pizza while Jessica and I played Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders. Guess who won nearly all of the games?

We happily watched the first Harry Potter movie with the pizza, and later, some candy canes left over from Christmas. They weren’t classic flavored, but they did turn our tongues blue and green, which was even better. After that, Jessica and I headed back to my house, where I had a bed made up for her on the sofa. I left the heater on for her – I didn’t think it was fair to make a kidlet wake up in a 42 degree house, and I must say that it was pretty nice waking up to a warm house in the morning.

It was pretty nice to wake up to Jessica, too.

*A nice selection, too: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland; Matilda by Roald Dahl; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and a Nancy Drew, The Bungalow Mystery. I’m glad that Nancy Drew still holds her eternal appeal, more than 80 years since they were first published.