Suzy Says

The storms kept kicking our collective asses. Rain, wind, thunder and lightning were an unlovely cocktail, and even when the power was on, I feared it would go off, stripping my life and house of its very thin veneer of civilization and plunging me into cold and darkness yet again.

The dreaded monthly Board meeting, which in my menopausal years has replaced my period as the thing I look forward to least each month, was looming on the horizon. They are done by Zoom, as so many meetings are these days, so I was concerned that my internet would go out before or during the meeting.

I decided to stay in town, at a hotel near work. Fortunately for me, I have friends in high places. Well, a friend. He manages some of the nicest hotels in town, and let me have a room at a prix d’ami. He also told me that many PG&E workers were staying there – they have a staging site set up near the coastal trail in town, and have brought sufficient generators to power the downtown part of the Big Town – so I figured if the power went out, it would be restored more quickly there than at home.

It was nice to swap a 40 minute drive for a 2 minute one, and I enjoyed the room:

It had a kitchenette, which was nice:

and a lovely view of the stormy harbor, by day:

and night:

I missed the cats, but it was nice to have reliable power and a shorter commute for a couple of days. I was glad to get home to the kitties, though, and even happier that so far, the power has stayed on. For now.

A YEAR AGO: Stopping to smell – well, admire – the flowers.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Sometimes, getting home isn’t easy

TEN YEARS AGO: Getting a photo taken for work.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The joys of visiting Chicago.

I think it’s safe to say I was too late in my dumpling consumption, because the hits just keep on coming. We have been hit with violent storm after violent storm, and the power has been out more than it’s been on. It’s scary and exhausting. I wish there were someone I could surrender to in order to make it stop.

Last Wednesday, I was unable to get home because of the storm. I found the Ridge blocked by a fire truck. Getting out of my car, I was greeted by my friend Erin’s husband Jaime, who is a volunteer firefighter. He gave me a hug and told me that the road was closed because of fallen trees and downed power lines. They didn’t know when the road would be passable, and the storm was still storming.

I drove to Megan and Rob’s place, where the power never goes out. I got a text from my landlord Danielle saying that she was able to get through, so I tried again, only to find that the road was closed again, or still. I don’t know how she got through, but Danielle is a force of nature almost as strong as the storm. So I headed back to the family estate.

Megan wasn’t expecting company, but she rustled up some pasta with garden sauce for dinner, raided our brother’s place for a bottle of wine, and we settled in to wait out the storm. Being in a trailer in winds gusting up to 75 to 100 miles per hour (reports vary) was…interesting. Makes me wonder how mobile home dwellers in Florida ride out the inevitable yearly hurricanes.

The wind howled and the rain blasted. Even though I was really tired, I couldn’t sleep. Also, sleeping with dogs is completely different from sleeping with cats. The dogs manage to take up all the bed, pin down the covers, snore (awake or asleep), and bark in their sleep. They step on your hair and bonk you in the face with their heads and paws.

When it was finally light out the next day, I ventured home again. Third time’s the charm! I was finally able to get home. I wish I had taken more photos, but I was so nervous and freaked out that I just wanted to get home. Here’s the remains of the trees that blocked the road:

Of course the power was off when I got home, so the house was cold and dark, but the weather was so bad that I was afraid to go to work, so I stayed home that day. The power was out from 8 am on January 4 to 3 pm on January 7. It went out again all day on January 9. I had yet another adventure that day, trying to get to work. A huge eucalyptus tree had fallen across the highway, blocking it. I went back home, and on the Ridge, met a fireman who told me it would be cleared soon. So I went home, waited an hour, and then tried again. This time, I was successful. It’s been a pretty rough year so far.

A YEAR AGO: Dental problems. Ow!.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The truth about cats and dogs is not always pretty.

TEN YEARS AGO: Be careful what you wish for.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Delicacies by the Bay.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: More adventures in dog-sitting.

Gloomy New Year to Me!

My New Year’s Eve plans were, admittedly, modest. Watching the Leafs play; watching the ball drop in Times Square; having tourtière for dinner; and drinking some sparkling wine was just about all the excitement slated for Chez Suzy that evening. But not even those small goals were achieved, because the power went out at 5:00 pm and stayed resolutely out until well into New Year’s Day, making celebrating of any kind pretty much impossible.

Not that I felt like celebrating even after the lights came back on. My landlord Danielle came by on New Year’s Day to inform me that she is raising the rent $300 a month. Between that and the payment for the car I had to buy last month, I will somehow have to come up with an extra $500 a month. Not sure how I am going to do that, or if it’s even possible.

My good friend A told me that in her native China, if you didn’t make and eat dumplings on the Winter Solstice, you were risking woeful misfortune for the New Year. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t get that newsflash until the Solstice had passed. A thought that if I did it soon thereafter, it would still stave off the woeful misfortune. So I made and ate my dumplings a couple of days late, but the gods do not seem to allow for a grace period when it comes to woeful misfortune. I have marked Dumpling Day on my calendar for later this year, so maybe 2024 will be better. Assuming I make it that far.

A YEAR AGO: A better and brighter New Year’s Eve.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Welcoming the New Year.

TEN YEARS AGO: Greeting the New Year in San Francisco.

Twenty YEARS AGO: The perils of dog sitting. Maybe not what you think.

It’s hard to think of 2022 as anything other than the year we lost The Queen. Three months after losing her calm, wise presence, it’s still hard to believe she is truly gone. She has been my Queen my whole life, and knowing her steady hand is no longer on the tiller makes me feel both unmoored and unnerved. It’s like living under a different sky.

I went to the City more this year (twice!) than I did in the last 10 years (once!). I think I’m done with it for the next little while, though I probably won’t wait for another decade to visit. It’s both familiar and strange at the same time.

I turned 60 this year, and Mom would have been 90. My blog turned 21. A lot of milestones this year. I found I was excited about turning 60. I feel like every day I wake up and I’m still breathing is a good one.

Books read: 110, more than last year’s 106. The most since 2017’s 111, and close to my personal best of 118 in 2010.

Here’s what happened in my world this year:

January: Happy New Year! Dodge lives up to his name. He is an Artful Dodger, indeed. Dental pain: not a good way to start the year. But a new baby is, especially when she is born on New Year’s Day. Especially when she’s Anna. In which we learn that Frank is a con man.

February: The Sex & the City reboot had its pluses and minuses. What should have been. Cheers to some unexpected nice weather! Getting my wisdom teeth out still had some glamor. And the whole thing went much better than I expected. Spending the night in style.

March: A delightful visit to the B. Bryan Preserve. The anniversary of losing our beloved Star. And our beloved father’s birthday. I will never stop missing either of them. Lilac time. And time to get a new computer, among other things.

April: My mom’s 90th birthday. First trip to the City in many years, to see a concert. Of course, I visited Swan’s while I was there. My blog turned 21. We both remain resolutely immature, and our grown-upness is quite faux. Don’t be fooled by the (somewhat alarming) numbers. A look around the family garden, and some updates on my beloved cats.

May: A super computer, after my old one became unusable. It’s how I roll. A guy actually tried to pick me up at the gas station, and Dodge hurt his paw. Happy birthday to Megan and me!

June: My second trip to the city in 6 week’s time. Making up for lost time! A look around the old neighborhood. The City was fun, but it was good to be home. It’s official: Jarrett and Kalli are engaged! Celebrating in style.

July: The Imperious Empress Audrey turned 15, outliving her mother Quince, who died just a few days before Audrey’s birthday. We estimate that Quince was about 9 months old when Audrey was born. Audrey is the only survivor of her litter, and has been for some time. Fleeing the usually beloved Circus. I hope next year’s performance is more fun and less painful. The delights of the Symphony. I got a beautiful new bed, put together with my family’s help.

August: Packing a lot of fun into one day. A delightful trip to the Valley. Marking 21 years since we lost Dad. I will never stop loving and missing him. My annual peach pie. Catfight! I am pleased to announce that Dodge was the winner, and also that there has not (to my knowledge) been an encore performance.

September: Uh oh. Car problems. In retrospect, I realize this was also the beginning of the end of Wednesday. The sudden and shocking loss of Her Majesty The Queen rocked my world and sent me into mourning for the rest of the year. But she would have wanted us to get on with it, and we did, working on wedding plans as a family. Tallying up the bridges I cross to get to work. Some early season rain.

October: Finally! Megan and I went to the County Fair. A visit to Point Arena, and a fabulous dinner at Gama. Another finally: we pressed cider together.

November: November came in like a lion. A lovely trip to the Valley. It’s beautiful at any time of year. The demise of my car was sudden and shocking. And Thanksgiving was modest.

December: Decorating for Christmas. Candlelit shopping was rained out for us, but we still found a way to have some fun. Finding new and unenjoyable ways to spend money. Christmas celebrations.

It’s a stormy end to the year. Trying not to think of it as an omen.

On the actual Eve, I hopped in the new car and headed toward the beautiful South Coast. It was the last day Franny’s would be open for over a month, so I wanted to make sure I stocked up on delicacies before the long confectionery drought began.

I called in my order ahead of time, but still had to wait in line to pay for it and collect it, which gave me time to admire the festive decorations, both outside:

and inside:

For Christmas Eve, I had a délice of tangerine cake filled with a mixture of cherries, raspberries, and cranberries, covered in white chocolate. Next to it is the mini bûche de Noël for Christmas dinner, with a meringue mushroom and pistachio moss:

They both tasted as amazing as they look.

With my box of delicacies safely stowed in the back seat, I headed to Anchor Bay, where I ordered Thai food in very festive surroundings:

It was a beautiful drive home. I always think Point Arena looks a bit like the White Cliffs of Dover:

I love the rolling hills and curving roads of the South Coast:

It was a lovely Christmas Eve dinner. I made a ham, carrots glazed with tangerine zest and juice, salad with roasted pears and honey-shallot dressing, and of course, my annual, world-famous cheese biscuits:

Just add a bottle of sparkling wine, Charlie Brown, and the Grinch, and you have a pretty good Christmas Eve.

A YEAR AGO: Spending some time with Emily.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Post Christmas cleanup.

TEN YEARS AGO: A wonderful Christmas.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Some updates.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Housework is not fun. Especially when you have a cold.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, I left work early, and for the last time in 2022. I took the week off between Christmas and New Year’s, possibly for the first time since I started working at the clinic. Because of the way Christmas fell, I only had to take 4 days off to get 11 days off, counting weekends, which we all know are the most important part of the week. So I was unable to resist, not that I tried very hard.

With glorious days of freedom stretching before me, I headed homewards, stopping at Cafe Beaujolais to pick up pizza. When I got home, I took care of the cats (always the first order of business, whether it’s the beginning of the day or the end), changed out of my work clothes for the year, and texted Megan that I was ready to go.

Megan chauffeured the pizza and me to her place, where we had appletinis and watched season 3 of Emily in Paris. Warning: spoilers ahead! Avert your eyes if you haven’t already seen Season 3! We both agreed that this season was not as enjoyable as the earlier two, though it was still fun. Emily’s clothes were mostly weird, instead of mostly wonderful, as they were in the earlier seasons. But we got to spend more time with the inimitable Sylvie, which is fine with me. The most concerning thing was not Camille and Gabriel almost getting married, but the horrifying plot twist that Camille is pregnant. As we all know, babies are the kiss of death for any TV show, and the thought of Camille pregnant and then with an infant clinging to her is completely dreadful. I hope they can write their way out of this one and make Season 4 more fun and fashionable. We need the escapism.

Despite all that, we had a great evening together, and have already planned another Girl Night for January. It’s good to have things to look forward to, especially after the Saddest Day of the Year, which is speeding toward us all too fast.

A YEAR AGO: A solstice earthquake. Oddly, there was one about the same size in the same place on that date, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A chilly solstice.

TEN YEARS AGO: Some unexpected Christmas guests.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Baby Audrey breaks out of the Big House.

Megan and I were planning to go to Candlelit Shopping in the Village, but Mother Nature had other plans. She decided, quite reasonably for the season, that it was time for wind and rain, which is not good shopping weather unless your chauffeured limousine is following you down Fifth Avenue with all the Christmas decorations lit up.

We may not have had a limo – OK, I admit it, we didn’t – but we did have a chauffeur, in the form of the ever-patient Rob. He dropped us off at our favorite seaside bar, which is the perfect port in any storm:

It was warm and cozy, and we could observe the weather without participating in it, as well as enjoying the view of the storm-tossed sea. I think the ocean is beautiful in any weather.

We settled back with a sparkling kir royale each:

accompanied by a delightful cheese platter with quince membrillo:

and chatted with each other and the bartender. As always, it was a happy place to spend an evening, and I have to give our Plan B an A.

A YEAR AGO: ‘Tis the season for successful Plan Bs and visits to the bar.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The sparkle of Candlelit Shopping.

TEN YEARS AGO: The amazing lunar eclipse not only affected me deeply, but turned out to be the moment I lost my friend and beloved former father-in-law, Ed.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: My first visit to the gym.

As befits someone who will have to mortgage her shopworn soul and possibly sell what few jewels she has left from her formerly gracious life, Thanksgiving was a modest affair. I felt too depressed and discouraged to join my family, so I just had a small celebration on my own.

When I called the butcher a few weeks earlier to try to reserve a turkey breast, I was surprised to learn that there was some kind of poultry plague and the turkey supply was both limited and unreliable, so no reservations were allowed. I stopped by later that week and scored a 5 pound frozen breast, which would do fine.

I thawed it in the refrigerator for two days, and roasted it for 2 hours at 375 degrees after prepping it Nana-style, with butter, sage, salt, and pepper, and it was, if I do say so myself, perfect:

I made the pan juices into gravy, and served it with mashed potatoes, stuffing/dressing baked in a separate glass dish, and carrots glazed with honey, butter, and tangerine juice. It was simple, but delicious. I had some Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc with the meal, reminding me of how I often used to drink it with Dad in his garden before dinner, or while we were cooking together. I am thankful for those happy memories. Despite the car disaster, I do have a lot to be thankful for.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A happy Thanksgiving.

TEN YEARS AGO: A house full of friends and family for Thanksgiving.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A…memorable Thanksgiving. For so many reasons.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A bittersweet Thanksgiving.

A beautiful day in the Valley

I left work early one day and headed to the Valley on a beautiful Fall day.

First stop was Gowan’s, where I picked up some fresh cider and some fresh almonds.

Even though we made our own cider recently, most of it is currently hardening, so it was nice to have some fresh local cider.

It was a lovely drive through wine country, where the vines and some of the trees’ leaves had changed color:

The grape harvest was over, apples have been picked, and you could see that the countryside was heading into the quieter winter months, even though the sunlight was still golden.

Arriving in Boonville, I was sorry to see that Paysanne was unexpectedly closed, but fortunately Offspring Pizza was open and ready for business:

I gave my order to the cheerful girl behind the counter and headed to Farmhouse Mercantile next door while my pizza was being created in the wood-fired brick oven:

I chose a card for a friend who is moving (and having a difficult time in her personal life), and got a new scented candle called Forest Walk, which smells fabulous. It’s the same make as the delightful Coast Trail candle, and it seems that one has to go to Boonville to buy them, since I can’t find them online anywhere.

By then, my pizza was ready:

It was topped with porchetta, mozzarella, oregano, Manzanilla olives, and Calabrian chili oil. Just delicious!

It was a beautiful drive home. I was glad to get to the home stretch beside the mighty Pacific, near the turn off to my Ridge:

It was good to get home.

A YEAR AGO: Some updates.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Don’t look back.

TEN YEARS AGO: Enjoying the art at First Friday.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: An innocent hairbrush can be dangerous in the wrong hands (mine).

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Both of my brain cells were aching.

November got right down to it, starting off with a storm on the very first day of the month. Needless to say, the storm took the power out with it, though luckily for me, it both went out and came back on while I was at work.

The second day of November brought an encore, with the power once more going out again, this time for a longer period of time. PG&E stated on their website that it was due to an “emergency issue”, but I never learned what the emergency or the issue was. At least the lights were back on by the time I got home.

The Ridge quickly acquired its winter look of redwood needles on wet, black pavement:

As often happens when the weather is stormy, the light was beautiful between storms. I stopped off at Little River to take some pictures of the ocean:

I turned my attention to the nearby cove:

and was quite surprised to see a naked guy frolicking in the surf:

mostly because the water is so cold. Surfers wear wetsuits here, and hardly anyone plays in the icy water in bathing suits, let alone birthday suits. Maybe it was bracing.

A YEAR AGO: John rescued some tiny kittens, who now all have happy homes. Yay, John!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Halloween with our favorite girls.

TEN YEARS AGO: Trick or treating with our favorite kidlet.

On a cool and sunny Sunday morning, I said goodbye to the cats and headed over to Rio’s place. It was Cider Day!

It had been so long since I went there that I was a little worried about getting lost. Fortunately, I did not get lost, and I was the first to arrive. Jonathan and Rio hugged me hello, and soon Megan and Rob arrived and production began.

We didn’t have as many apples this year, and some were set aside for the very worthy cause of becoming calvados. Jonathan made his own still out of copper, and has also acquired a small stainless steel keg with an oak inset on the face, which he will use to age the calvados instead of the previous method of aging in glass bottles with an oak twig. Nothing like a good process improvement!

We who are about to become cider salute you:

First, the apples have a bath, even though they are organic and grown in the family orchard:

The real process improvement was the new grinder:

Instead of having to cut up the apples, arguably the longest and most time-consuming part of the cider-making process, you just throw the whole apple in there, unless it’s too big for the chute, and it gets scrobbled with no human intervention required. Much easier (and faster) than cutting up the apples and grinding them by hand, the way we used to do it.

Here you see Jonathan and Rob decanting the ground apples into the press:

Here’s Jonathan pressing the cider:

Cider pouring out:

And in a handy to go container:

I can’t tell you how good it tasted. Or how good it was to all be together again, making cider like our ancestors.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A beautiful garden.

TEN YEARS AGO: Audrey and I had checkups.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A tip on how to raise kittens.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The good, the bad, and the ugly.

The main reason for this little expedition to the beautiful South Coast was to have dinner at Gama, a Japanese restaurant which everyone was raving about. It is conveniently located right next to the beautiful motel where I was staying.

I had a reservation, and was warmly greeted by the friendly and knowledgeable staff. The interior is light wood, and feels more spacious than it is. The table was set with beautiful flower-shaped dishes, a carafe of still water, a lovely, heavy glass tumbler with swirls of pale blue in the glass, and wooden chopsticks. Sake and beer are available, but not wine, so I stuck with the water. The server brought me a hot towel with the menu:

It is the Japanese version of tapas, with a lot of little plates of delicious bites, which is my favorite. I always think having a lot of little nibbles is more fun than having a big dinner.

The fried chicken came with yuzu aioli:

The pork gyoza were light and crispy and came with a soy-chili dipping sauce:

The service was wonderful, and I felt cared for but not pestered. It can be hard to walk that line. It was a lovely evening.

The next day, I walked (!) up the street:

to Franny’s:

Even though it was early, I had to wait in line to get in, chatting with someone who works at the nearby B. Bryan Preserve. When it was finally my turn, it was nice to be there when everything was available and nothing was sold out:

I ended my deliciousness tour with a stop at Queenie’s. Much like Franny’s, going there on a Friday morning is a much different experience than going on the weekends. It was lightly populated, and food arrived quickly instead of in 30-40 minutes. I overheard a conversation between the waitress and an older gentleman sitting at the counter. He had just come back from his house in Italy, which is on Lake Como. He and his brother bought it from Enzio Pinza many years ago. So cool! The waitress asked him if he ever saw George Clooney when he was at the Lake Como house, and he said yes, adding that George is “very agreeable” and “so polite”. Apparently he often sees him in the cafe and he likes to talk about his kids. Nice to know George is a nice guy.

Later in the conversation, I learned that the guy himself had just celebrated his 94th birthday! He looked at least 20 years younger. I would never have guessed. His hearing was perfect and he was mentally sharp and just a lovely person. His wife is still alive and likes to write. It was a wonderful encounter and another reason to feel good about aging. All in all, a successful adventure.

A YEAR AGO: The evil Redbeard stole a bunch of stuff from my hard-working siblings. He was later caught and jailed after a reign of thievery all along our coast.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Storing potatoes.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Adventures with the lovely Rita.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Photos from my trip to Europe. Unfortunately, they did not survive the blog transition, but you can read the descriptions.

I set off toward the beautiful South Coast on a foggy afternoon. I always think of it as the beautiful South Coast, and it is, whatever the weather. A sunny day is beautiful, but so is a stormy one and even a foggy one. The ocean has many moods and they all have their particular beauty.

Both the ocean and the sky were shades of silver, pewter, and platinum. I headed to the Arena Pier first:

The weather had discouraged the usual intrepid surfers, but not fishermen:

Here’s a view of the cliffs next to the pier:

It’s fun to see a working pier and harbor on our rocky shores, surfers or no surfers.

I then headed to the Wildflower Motel, a delightfully renovated 1950s motel in the heart of downtown Point Arena. Breakfast is included in the room price, so I made my selection and chose the time to have it delivered to my room the next day before going to my room.

The rooms are assigned flower names, as you might expect, and mine was Trillium, which reminded me of how we used to go with Dad to dig them up in the woods and plant them in the garden at home. I especially liked the colored ones as kid.

The room was delightful:

You can see the spa-like bathroom with the sliding doors in the background. It had a round, frosted glass skylight in the ceiling, and when you touched the mirror, it lit up!

Here’s another view of the room:

The blinds pulled up from the bottom, so you could let light in while still having privacy. I had blinds like that in San Francisco, and they are great.

It was quiet and pretty and a lovely place to spend an evening and night.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The terrifying wildfires.

TEN YEARS AGO: Power and water outages.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Kittens are not good office assistants.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Why I love wine.

It had been a long time since Megan and I went to the County Fair. Too long. We finally rectified this matter on a beautiful fall afternoon. I tried and failed to leave work early, but that did not deter us from heading Fairwards. Megan found one of her secret parking spots. The parking goddess usually smiles on Megan (I think it’s the country version of her uncanny city ability to get a cab anywhere, and in every weather), except when she frowns. Then she really scowls.

Fortunately, both the parking goddess and we were in good moods. It was so great to see the Fair signs stretching across the highway:

There wasn’t even a line to get in:

Our first stop was Gowan’s cider stand, where we each got a cup of cider to inspire us as we strolled around. Our first stop was the animals, where I admired the adorable bunnies:

and the fancy chickens:

The biggest pumpkin was not that big this year:

Maybe it was the drought and the water restrictions not allowing it to grow to epic proportions. It’s still pretty big, though.

This was my favorite garden exhibit:

We stayed late enough for the lights to come on, making the Fair look even more magical:

It was a really wonderful afternoon and evening.

A YEAR AGO: Oh, deer.

FIVE YEARS AGO: More message boards fun.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The secret lives of mailmen.

I was surprised and confused by an unfamiliar sound when I woke up on a Sunday morning. It was rain! And it was real rain, winter-style rain, just a few months early.

Clyde and Dodge were sitting together on the bed, like a matched set, when I woke up that day:

They scampered downstairs, eager to go out and play, until they saw the rain:

I tried to take some pictures of the rain, but it proved to be surprisingly difficult, like my attempts to capture the beauty of the moon. Maybe I need a real camera instead of an aging iPhone 7. This was the best I could do:

Thought it may be hard to tell from the photos, we got almost three inches of rain! That’s a good start to the season.

A YEAR AGO: Some home improvements.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Playing tour guide.

TEN YEARS AGO: Thankful for the little things in life.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: A delightful visit to Detroit.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Nearly finished with going through Dad’s things and getting ready to go back home to San Francisco.

I counted the number of bridges I cross on the way to work, and there were more than I expected: 11, to be precise.

Here they are, in the order I cross them going workward:

1. The one-lane, redwood bridge. It looks flat in this photo, but is actually quite steep. You have to hope you don’t meet your neighbors here. Heading west, toward the ocean, there is a curve as soon as you get off the bridge, and when I go around it, I often find the wild turkey family hanging out there.

2. Salmon Creek bridge. The ocean is on one side, and presumably there is a creek on the other. It has this spectacular view:

3. Albion River bridge. It’s the only wooden bridge left on historic Highway One, and those of us who live here generally consider it to be the symbol of Albion (aka Hooterville in these pages):

4. Little River. The bridge is as small as the river, which is really more like a creek. Blink and you’ll miss it. Here you see it as a hang out spot for Canadian geese instead of wild turkeys. I brake for birds!

5. Big River. This is a magical place to me, where the river meets the sea. When I cross its long curve, I breathe deeply and think, “Big River, fill me with your energy”. I exhale as long as I can as I drive off it. It’s an important part of getting ready for my day, maybe just another of my superstitions, like always carrying my Mouse with me.

6 and 7: The two bridges north of the Village. If they have names, I don’t know them. I do know that you should be careful about both of them if it’s been raining. Drive slowly. They both tend be floody, especially number 6.

8 and 9: The two bridges of Caspar. Again, I don’t know if they have names, but what I said about bridge 6 in the rain goes double for bridge 9, the last one before you hit Fort Bragg, aka the Big Town. Water can be much deeper on bridge 9 than you can tell until it’s too late.

10. Hare Creek. There is actually a trail that goes to a beach, though you’d never know it from the highway:

11. Noyo Harbor. The last bridge before work:

Noyo Harbor is a busy working harbor, with lots of fishing boats going in and out. You can buy fresh seafood in the harbor, and the view is beautiful. All in all, not a bad commute!

A YEAR AGO: Dental pain. In my mouth and my wallet. Hard to say which was worse. Fun fact: I just finished paying off that root canal!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Fun at the Fair, with two Ericas and one Ben.

TEN YEARS AGO: A lovely day in the Village. I still miss Schatzi. And Star.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Seeing signs everywhere.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Heading to Amsterdam to visit my dear friend A.

The Queen would want us to get on with it, and I have, but I continue to mourn her and wear mourning. My thoughts are with her. I will take the day off on September 19 to watch Her Majesty’s funeral and grieve along with the many millions who loved and admired her.

Even when a Queen dies, life goes on, and even in the darkness, there are bright spots. Jarrett and Kalli, grieving their own loss of their beloved dog Archimedes, came to visit and so some wedding planning. Did I tell you? I’m getting a wedding for my birthday next year.

I arranged with one of my coworkers to rent tables and chairs for 50-60 people. We will use the chairs for the ceremony and then bring them back to Megan and Rob’s place, where the tables will be set up. We need to look into getting a tent and a dance floor. There are so many things to think of, even for a small wedding.

Jonathan brought a bowl of garden-grown, home-made salsa to inspire us:

Also a bottle of garden-grown, home-made raspberry wine:

It was surprisingly not at all sweet, though it smells like summer. Really delicious. It took 5 pounds of raspberries to make that one bottle. That’s a lot of picking. We toasted The Queen and our gratitude for her long reign.

Jonathan said he was experimenting with plum brandy this year, and had also acquired a cider press that did not require cutting up the apples. Yay!

Jonathan grilled up some burgers for us:

Some were turkey, and some were local, grass-fed beef from right here in Hooterville. Jonathan had repaired a neighbor’s machinery and was paid in local beef. Gotta love that.

As the evening went on, the twinkle lights came on:

and the lanterns:

It was a happy time for all of us, especially knowing we have more to look forward to.

A YEAR AGO: Another happy family dinner.

FIVE YEARS AGO: When you have cats, you are not in charge.

TEN YEARS AGO: The loss of two much-loved dogs. And some naughtiness from my cats.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Spending some time in Devon.

The Winner

I was watching the last ever episode of “Better Call Saul” when my neighbor Alex appeared at my front door. Alex lives next door to me and is my landlord Danielle’s son. He came bearing the unwelcome news that Dodge had been in a fight. Alex had broken up the fight between Dodge and an evil white cat who has also gotten into a fight with Danielle’s cat, Kiki, she of the many toes and cute markings. Danielle’s boyfriend Will thinks the situation should be solved with a shotgun, whereas Alex is more of a trap and neuter kind of guy.

He showed me where the fight took place, right in front of his place, and showed me the white fur on the ground. I looked at it, and it looked like it must be Evil Cat’s fur, but I was longing to find Dodge and make sure none of it was his. Of course, he was nowhere to be seen. Alex opined that Dodge was probably under the house, and he was probably right, but that didn’t stop me from worrying.

I went out and called him a couple of times as darkness drew nearer and I considered the Awful Idea of leaving Dodge outside when I went to bed. I went out to call him one last time, and although I didn’t see him, as I closed the front door, I saw his beautiful little face peeking through the glass.

Dodge was clearly nervous and somewhat freaked out, but he did not have a scratch on him. He scarfed up wet food and treats and settled in on the heater. A careful examination showed no wounds or even a scratch, but the next day, I noticed a white patch on his ear that hadn’t been there before. I wonder if it was from the stress? I am just thankful he is OK, and rather proud of him for being such a tough boy from the mean streets of Fort Bragg.

TEN YEARS AGO: Car problems suck. But having good friends to help you with them is great.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Some Rita updates. Oh, and a fire.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Pros and cons of shaving.

It was time for my annual peach allotment, but sadly, no peaches were forthcoming. The peach trees in the family orchard were blighted this year, maybe by the same mystery blight that took out one of the apple trees last year, which had to be dug up and replaced. The peach trees did not require such drastic treatment, but they steadfastly refused to produce more than around 4 sad looking peaches.

I am sorry to report that the cherry tree, despite being isolated at the far end of the garden in its majestic net cathedral, was also blighty and similarly almost fruit-free. Of course the plague affected my favorite fruit trees. My siblings have acquired a second cherry tree, but it will take years to start producing fruit, assuming it escapes the blight.

So when Megan and I went to the Valley, we stopped in at Gowan’s more than century-old farmstand:

I got two little baskets of peaches:

That was more than enough to make a really good peach pie. Here it is before:

And after:

I usually make a lattice crust, but this time, I made a double crust, which presented a minor problem. When I make a double crust pie, I usually draw the fruit it’s made from to vent the pie. I learned this from my American grandmother. But I couldn’t figure out how to draw a peach which wouldn’t look like an apple. So I settled for a freeform star.

It turned out great. I enjoyed the annual treat.

A YEAR AGO: I got contact lenses again. And I have already stopped wearing them. Again.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Jonathan and Rio went to the wilderness to truly experience the total solar eclipse.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Audrey made her debut. We lost her mother, Quince, earlier this month.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Men and women have different views on fashion.

Down in the Valley

Megan and I headed to the Valley on a beautiful summer weekend.

It was lovely to drive through the redwoods, with the sunlight flickering through the trees, and to emerge into the Valley, with the rolling hills covered with vineyards and deep pools of live oaks.

We went to the furthest point first, beautiful downtown Boonville:

We looked around the pretty shops. I loved a candle called Coastal Trail, lavender, geranium, lemongrass. It smelled amazing. I didn’t buy it, though, and of course, I regretted it on the way home. How could I forget the Suzy Rule that you only regret not buying things? I may have to make another excursion to Boonville…

We stopped in at the teeny patisserie, where I acquired some brownies, Canelés de Bordeaux, and a cone of orange-cardamom ice cream, which was fantastic. I love cardamom. Megan got an iced mocha, and we sat at a table outside and enjoyed the view and people watching along with our icy treats on a hot afternoon.

We headed back to Philo. I have wanted to try the cider tasting at Gowan’s, and so did Megan. It turned out this was the day to finally do it! It was delightful to try the cider under the very trees where the apples were grown:

We tried a flight of six or so, along with a bonus frozé made from the rosé cider. We decided to get a case and split it, six bottles each, and the cost of the tasting flight was refunded. What’s not to love?

We ended the happy day at our favorite seaside bar, with limoncello spritzers:

They are a lovely mix of limoncello, champagne, and a dash of lemon-lime soda. Summer in a glass!

A YEAR AGO: The quirks of my cats.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A loss. After all, August is the Official Month of Death.

TEN YEARS AGO: My 2,000th post.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Working for a living is just too much…work.