Suzy Says

Clyde is back to his old self again. I’m still in the phase of being delighted by his naughtiness rather than annoyed by it. Oh, look! He’s on the counter! Yay, he’s clawing the couch! It’s so cute that he’s milling around under my feet and meowing while I’m trying to feed him!

I will never know if it was the potassium infusion the vet gave him, or whether he just needed an extra day or two to recover from whatever it was. I will also never know what it was. A bug? Virus? A bad bird or mouse? At least I do know that he is 100% OK according to the tests. And I’m so thankful to see that he’s alert and happy again. My little guy.

Megan is also doing fine. She shook off the flu quickly enough to do four 12 hour night shifts this past week. She woke up on Friday afternoon and we met Monica for drinks that evening (more about this later). On Saturday, she went to swimming lessons in town, then went to Safeway and shopped for Erica, and then brought the shopping to Erica’s house, about an hour and a half’s drive one way.

I couldn’t go, but I sent along some movies for Jessica and also The Munsters, which she loves. Jessica will be in a cast for twelve weeks. Goodbye, summer! We will have to figure out some way to get her around the county fair in the middle of September. I also have to figure out a way to go and visit those girls soon. Erica reminded me that they have been back from Portland for an entire year now and I have yet to go and visit them. Worst. Friend. Ever.

Speaking of which: I ended up giving back the fancier camera. It wasn’t notably better than my old one, so it didn’t make sense to me to keep it. Fortunately no-one was offended. I’m just glad they can get their money back and that their feelings aren’t hurt.

On Friday evening, Megan and I met Monica at the bar of what is rapidly becoming our regular watering hole, the Little River Inn. Here’s the view from our table by the door:

My co-worker turned up with her beautiful family, including her mother’s friend who is an attorney in Nevada. We spoke about the Zimmerman case, and he said that juries can be very unpredictable, and he thought that they might acquit despite the evidence. Unfortunately, he was correct. I was as appalled by this verdict as I was in the trial of Oscar Grant’s killer several years ago. Coincidentally, the movie Fruitvale (named after my former BART stop in Oakland, where the murder took place) was released that very day. I am saddened by the racism and injustice in this country.

Why stop and smell the roses when you can play with them?

You will be glad to hear that everyone is improving. Jessica learned to crutch around pretty quickly – always her way of learning everything – and is in the capable and loving hands of her mother at home. Jonathan is coming up with science experiments for her to do while her slim limb recovers, and I have ordered her a book of paper projects. I think she’ll love that it’s called “The Secret Society of Paper Cuts”.

Megan, of course, was back at work Monday night. She said that bugs that violent rarely last very long, and despite my attempts to dissuade her, she worked on the family garden on Sunday as well as checking in on Clyde twice and reporting to me while I was at work. She was a Montessori teacher before she was an EMT/ambulance driver and has worked in the ER for years now, so she has a really kickass immune system. Still one more night of work for my valiant sis tonight. I don’t know how she does it.

Clyde is almost his old self again. I first noticed he was sick on Saturday night. He looked all bleary-eyed and was non-responsive. In the morning, he walked downstairs in slow motion. He ate and drank as usual, but he seemed out of it and not at all like himself. He went outside and huddled there like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. He wasn’t grooming, not purring, his head and tail were drooping, he slept a lot, walked around slowly, and, perhaps most remarkably, no naughtiness.

By the time Monday rolled around and he was pretty much the same, I called the vet. Dr. Karen is in Italy with her family for three weeks, and Dr. Carl is (not surprisingly) booked for a week. So Dr. Barbara saw Clyde. She gave him a complete blood panel and checked everything out. $200+ later, it seemed that everything was A-OK, except for, you know, the whole sick thing. And his potassium levels were a little bit low. Since he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) eat a banana, Dr. Barbara gave him a subcutaneous infusion of potassium. It was a relief to know that nothing major was wrong, but I still wish I’d gotten a definitive diagnosis.

Clyde was very brave and stoic. I should really stop thinking of him as a baby boy. And? He weighs 11 pounds! I would never have guessed!

Clyde seemed better the next day. and started clawing the couch again. I never thought I’d be happy to see or hear that! Or his jumping on the counter. He finally climbed up on me and purred like he used to, and when I came home yesterday, he was all dirty from playing on the haul road, which was another good sign that he was getting back to normal.

Interestingly, Audrey stayed near him while he was sick, and Roscoe sniffed him thoroughly every time he saw Clyde. They also exchanged what I think of as little kisses, more than usual. Today they were playing in the sunlight, so I’m hoping everything is back to normal.

Independence Day evening finally freed us from the death grip of the blasting (and blasted) heat. The weather has been so strange this year. The driest January and February in recorded history, the strange rain storm in June, followed by the heat tsunami, which concluded with thunder and lightning but no rain. We were all terrified of a repeat of the ’08 wildfires which my brother and his brotherhood fought so valiantly for so long. He told me later that he was half awake all night, listening for the pager, and that in his mind he was already halfway out the door. Fortunately, there was only one small fire inland which was easily contained and that was all.

Independence Day evening also freed Megan of the delightful BBQ we had had at our brother’s place. She was violently sick all night, with her body and bones aching, so it was a flu or virus which a visitor to the ER thoughtfully gave her as a parting gift. Due to the holiday, she didn’t know the locum doctor on staff at the ER, and the staff at the clinic, where my sister is regularly seen, refused to call in a prescription for an anti-emetic. I went to the village and asked the pharmacist if he could recommend anything to help her, but he said there really isn’t any over the counter medication for this. He was visibly shocked that the clinic wouldn’t call in a prescription for a regular patient for something that has no recreational use. I have a feeling that the clinic staff has not heard the last of this.

I stocked up on ginger ale, Jell-O, chicken soup, and other queasiness supplies and dropped them off at Megan’s house. She had lost the juice and water she drank that morning, and couldn’t even think about coffee, even though she is composed of at least 75% caffeine at all times.

I am pleased to report that she is feeling better today, though I wish she didn’t have four 12 hour night shifts waiting for her, starting tomorrow night. That’s pretty tough, even for her.

In other medical news, our beloved Jessica broke her lovely leg a couple of days ago. I don’t have all the details, but apparently she was trying to get out of another kid’s way on the trampoline when he or she fell on Jessica and broke her leg in two places:

Fortunately, she didn’t need pins, just a cast, and she is back home, resting as comfortably as possible in the circumstances. Erica said the doctors were concerned about Jessica’s striking pallor until she assured them it was Jessica’s normal skin tone. 🙂

Seems like my little Clyde is under the weather as well. He looked bleary last night, and this morning, he didn’t run outside as usual. He did eat, but then he just huddled by the (open) door like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. I couldn’t see any wounds, and he didn’t cry out when I picked him up and felt him all over, but he didn’t purr and he just looked blah.

I notified Megan before I left for the jobette, and told her I was keeping him inside (which means Audrey and Roscoe will have to be outside all day), and she said she’d stop by to check on him. Dr. Megan is never too sick to pay a house call. Hopefully he will be feeling better by the time I get home. I hope everyone is!

The unusual rain gave way to unnatural heat. It’s been way too hot for way too long. Looking at the weather forecast makes me want to cry. At first, they said it would go away on Monday, but now it looks like Thursday before we can get onto the back burner. I hate the front burner.

Living in my uninsulated, upside down rowboat shaped house doesn’t help. Even when it has cooled down outside, it’s still an oven in the house, especially upstairs in the sleeping loft. Even with the screen door (thanks, Rob!) and a fan on upstairs, I can barely sleep with a sheet on, and I hate that. It’s flying in the face of my pro-blanket policy.

The heat makes me cranky (or crankier), as you can tell. On Friday, my brother invited me over to the property for a barbecue. He said that Erica and Jessica were there, and my late-breaking birthday present, but I didn’t want to leave the three fans in my living room for the sunstroke savanna that is the property. He called me back to ask me again, and I felt like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, where he says, “He’ll keep calling me…he’ll keep calling me…he’ll make me feel guilty…OK, I’ll go! I’ll go! I’ll go!” You can see Alan Ruck in all his comic splendor in this scene here.

I got in the car and blasted the tunes and the air conditioning, even though it’s a quarter of a mile drive (not including our very long driveways). I drove about 10 miles an hour the whole way to make the coolness last as long as possible. When I finally pulled up, Jessica came over to the car and she was actually mad at me for not coming sooner, so it’s a good thing I didn’t bail on the whole thing completely as originally planned. I don’t think she has ever been mad at me before.

We huddled in the shade of some rhododendrons and drank some cold Mike’s. My present turned out to be a fancy camera. Erica asked her professional photographer friends what they would recommend as a step up from the one I had, and they suggested this one. It’s $900 new, but Erica found one that had been previously enjoyed, but not too much, since it still had its original packaging and accessories. She had even taken a couple of pictures of Jessica to test it out. I was kind of overwhelmed. Just the ceramic knife (which I use all the time) would have been enough!

Lichen turned up, hot and scratchy after a long day of ripping out brambles in the bone-crushing heat. He sat in the shade, took off his boots, and applied tea tree oil to his scratches. He says it’s the best thing for scratches and bug bites. I thought about how different our days had been before we all met up. Lichen working in the sun; Jonathan driving to another town to help a friend fix his equipment (and later working on Erica’s car); Erica and Jessica’s long drive from the Valley; Megan working in the garden in the blazing sun; me at the courthouse with all those other sad women (it’s always women), working on our paperwork for divorce or custody or restraining orders, supporting each other the best we could.

My divorce is hopefully on track for October 2. The judge in the county seat wanted me to fill out an Income and Expense worksheet and submit copies of my pay stubs (which I don’t have) and tax returns, all of which felt like a huge invasion of privacy. It also seemed totally unnecessary, since we have already signed and notarized a document which states that we are not asking each other for alimony and further, that we never can, so it seems ridiculous to do this other paperwork.

The Family Law Facilitator said that the county seat judge is new and wants everyone to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, but she was pretty confident that the local one wouldn’t, so hopefully that will work out. If not, I’ll just have to do the extra paperwork. Apparently John and I may well get the final decree from the judge before October 2, though the soonest we can plan our next weddings is October 3.

I’ll get right on that.

The unexpected rain also derailed Monica’s plans for her birthday party on the beach. As the day grew nearer and the weather forecast became more ominous, it became clear that she would have to come up with a Plan B. Fortunately, a friend who has a large, mostly covered deck was able to host the party.

Megan picked me up after work and we headed over to the party.

Monica greeted us at the door and asked us to choose a slip of paper without looking from a little container on this little table by the front door:

Megan’s said “Beauty” and mine said “Harmony”. On the deck, there were rocks painted by Monica, and we each chose one. Then we decorated them with Sharpies in keeping with our theme words. Monica is going to spray them with a plastic coating and put them in her rock garden:

You can see Megan’s rock on the left and mine is next to it, leaning against the painted tree slice.

Everything Monica does, she does in style:

She painted this slice of tree trunk with blackboard paint in the middle to make a tic tac toe board. The game pieces are stones painted with ladybugs and daisies, in honor of Monica’s dogs Lady Bug and Daisy. So cute!

Isn’t that a cool idea? She is so creative.

There were candles and little jars of wildflowers tied with lace everywhere, a fire pit, and even a guitarist singing softly. We had a great time. Sometimes Plan B be can be better than Plan A!

Yesterday, Megan and I headed to the Big Town to run a few errands before meeting Monica for a drink at what is rapidly becoming our usual place, the Whale Watch Bar at Little River Inn.

Monica and Joe had to put their dog Drew to sleep this week, so Megan thought that buying Monica a drink was the least we could do. I think the venerability of the aging Schatzi makes Megan really empathize with Monica’s situation. Drew was 16 years old and had cancer, so he had a good, long life with a family who loved him until his last breath, but it’s still hard to say farewell to a beloved family member. As John observed when my father died, you always want one more day.

As we were just about to pull out of the parking lot at the garden center, someone honked at us, a rare occasion here on the Coast. It turned out to be Lu! She came with us to the next nursery – Megan was in search of tomato and bell pepper starts – and then took off on her own errands while we finished up and then met Lu back at her place. Star was thrilled to see her BFF Harlow, and they dashed off to play together while Megan and I admired the garden.

Lu has a whole wall of fuchsias:

I have to ask her how she did it. I suspect the answer is that she can plant directly into the soil instead of having to container plant the way I do. I love fuchsias, but mine are looking a little leggy despite fertilizer (I probably should have cut them back in the winter. My father always used to say you have to prune ruthlessly). She also gave me a cutting from her hedge of rose geranium, which smells absolutely heavenly.

Lu came with us to the Inn, where Monica joined us, carrying a nice article about Daisy Davis in the local paper. She was doing about as well as anyone can do in that situation, and I think it did her good to be with her friends. Here is the view from our table:

Lu, Monica, and I all have birthdays in June, and Monica is having a party on the beach a couple of days after hers, so I’m looking forward to that later this month.

As for today, it kicked (or splashed) off with aqua zumba with Megan, followed by work, and tonight a barbecue at our brother’s place with our neighbor who has been having a tough time lately. We’re hoping to cheer her up and let her know we are here for her, whatever she needs. Sometimes that’s all you can do.

I just adore a harbor view!

I had the best time on Monday night!

I met my friend Janice and her daughter Julie for dinner. Julie lives in the next county to the north of us, so they stopped off to see Me on their way. Julie also inspired me to start the project of writing down something that delighted or amused me every day, which you can find here.

We had dinner at the bistro near the jobette. The food was delicious, but the company was outstanding. Janice and Julie are both so smart and funny and have led such interesting lives (example: Janice spent two years as a paralegal researching the Ted Bundy case and met him several times. He sent her Christmas cards! Oh, and she called up Claus Von Bulow and actually got him to answer questions about his case over the phone).

A friend of Julie’s stopped by the table, and when I introduced myself, he asked me if I was related to Dad. Turns out that he himself also worked on getting DDT banned back in the 1970s along with my father, and is an expert on the snowy plover. As if that weren’t enough, he also knows Bob R., a family friend I have known since I was a child and another scientist. I had just had an email from him a few days earlier, and my brother stayed with him when he first moved to California. Small world!

Before I knew it, more than three hours had passed and it was dark outside.

I was sorry to say goodbye to these lovely ladies, but I know we will meet again when Janice next visits, or maybe even sooner since Julie lives in the same town as Jarrett and Megan and I have been talking about going up there this summer.

I was glad that I’d booked a room at a hotel in town so I didn’t have to drive all the way back to Hooterville. In the morning, I was greeted by the lovely view above from my balcony, where I had coffee after sleeping in, since I could get to the jobette in about two minutes instead of forty. It was like a mini-vacation!

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”.

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,

But it hasn’t all been divorce and (melo)drama. A couple of weeks ago, we had a lovely Friday evening.

Megan and I went to the Village to look for books for Jessica’s birthday, which, as every right-thinking person knows, is every April 15. Originally we were looking for books on Hindu mythology, but we struck out on that, so we headed across the street to Out of This World, which is. It didn’t take us long to snap up a make your own bath bomb kit, a book on science experiments, and, what every ten year old girl needs, a do it yourself lemon clock (lemon not included).

After that, it was time to take Star for a stroll and admire the ocean, which was feeling pretty that day:

Star gets perturbed when I wander off and take pictures. She stops and looks for me, clearly thinking, “The pack should stay together at all times!” Once I rejoin the pack, she trots along happily, tail wagging and ears perked up. Star gets extra credit for totally ignoring the (many) barking dogs in cars. I finally understand why Megan trained her dogs to never, ever bark in the car. If only more dog owners did the same thing!

We met Rob for dinner at Frankie’s, where we sat outside with an ever-alert Star at our feet. And she was right – of course she got some dinner, too!

In the background, you can see the famous statue of Time and the Maiden on top of the bank:

It was made in 1866 of a single truck of redwood and is one of the most famous and best-loved landmarks in the Village.

After dinner, we made our way to the theater, which was festively lit up for the occasion:

The play was called Boy Gets Girl, written by Rebecca Gilman in 2000, but set in New York in the 1990s. It’s a dark tale of a successful young journalist who is set up on a blind date with a man who seems to be innocuous at first, but soon becomes obsessive and terrifying.

Here’s the set when we first came in – it serves as the bar where the couple first meets, the journalist’s office, and her apartment:

During the play, the journalist has to interview an aged filmmaker who specialized in B movies featuring voluptuous women and who continues to be, as the journalist puts it, “a breast buff”. The posters for his movies are pretty funny:

I was delighted to see one of the actors from Farragut North, which I saw last fall at the same theater. And one of the actors was the guy who owns the wine shop on Main Street. We all had a great time, and I think we’ll do it agin. Soon, I hope!

On Friday, I wrapped up some work and some presents for Jessica and headed over to the family property for Jessica’s birthday BBQ.

It had been a while since I’d been over there, and things are rocking and rolling in the garden:

Those are onions and garlic in the foreground, with a new frame for peas and beans on the right – my sibs were discontented with the frames last year – and behind them, you can see the party palace, with the fire ring and grills. If you look really carefully in the background on the left, you’ll see the vats of compost tea, used to fertilize this produce extravaganza along with the adjacent orchard. I owe you a post on the orchard and garden developments so far this year.

It was a beautiful afternoon, but windy, as spring days often are here. Jonathan and Jessica used the golf cart to transport wood for the fire. it’s always good to have a real fireman show you how to make a fire:

Jessica practiced carefully. She’s a quick learner:

Megan had marinated a pork shoulder in lime juice and spices, and set it to cook slowly on the grill for several hours. It was removed to the oven to make room for Jonathan to grill onions and peppers. These were peeled and sliced and served up with the pork, black beans, and shredded cheese on tortillas for a delicious dinner. Lichen joined us and we had a great time.

When the grown-up talk got too boring for Jessica, she read (“Really, Memmin, have you ever known me to be without a book?”):

Her current read is called Graceling and it looks pretty interesting. According to school tests, Jessica is reading at a college level. Not bad for someone who just turned ten.

When we interrupted the reading, or tried to, Jessica said “Four more pages!”, usually without looking up. Erica explained that when she was a child, she asked her mother for something while her mother was reading, and her mother said, “Four more pages,” meaning that she would attend to Erica’s needs when she had finished her book. Eventually “Four more pages” got to mean, “Leave me alone, I’m reading,” regardless of the number of pages actually left, which is how the third generation of that family’s reading ladies uses it.

We were able to pull Jessica away from her book long enough to open her presents and have some cake. Megan bought the cake at a bakery, and it was chocolate with raspberry filling and buttercream frosting, with roses and “Happy Birthday Jessica” on it. Megan had even found candles whose flames burned the same color as the candles.

As for the presents, Megan gave Jessica a lemon clock kit (with lemon); a make it yourself bath bomb kit; and a book on totally irresponsible science experiments, along with a big box of Whoppers, Jessica’s favorite candy. I gave Jessica a pair of real, though tiny pearl stud earrings set in 14 karat gold. Jessica loved the book of experiments (and the Whoppers), and I think she would have been totally happy with just those. She is the least materialistic kid I have ever met.

Erica has done an amazing job over the past decade. I can’t wait to see what the next decade brings!

Farewell, 2012

It’s really fun going back and seeing what happened during the year, even if it wasn’t that great a year, like this one. Pay cuts and grand jury summons do not make for a good year. Hopefully the new one will also be improved.

Power outages: 6, including one in October due to someone driving into a power pole at 8:30 am – go figure – and two from a big storm in late November.

Rainfall: 24.20 inches for the season so far, vs. 11 inches this time last year.

Books read: 103 (vs. last year’s 118). Working more means reading less.

Favorites this year were Damien Echols’ astonishing, moving memoir, Life After Death; Gillian Flynn’s clever Gone Girl; William Landay’s surprising Defending Jacob; James M. Cain’s just-discovered final novel The Cocktail Waitress; Jess Walter’s Beautiful Ruins; and the beautifully written and moving Stoner (it’s not what you think).

Trips to San Francisco: 3. I went 4 times in 2011, but one of those was to keep Megan company while Rob endured more spinal surgery, so that doesn’t really count. I’m starting the new year off right by heading to San Francisco tomorrow morning for a few days to meet up with my boss/partner and make some plans for the future. And maybe do some shopping…

As for this year:

January: Hockey, Suzy-style. Little did I realize there wouldn’t be any when October arrived. Or December, for that matter. The case of the ransomed Christmas cards. Ordeal by utility company. Technological difficulties. Why I’m here. Outs & ins. One man’s trash…an unexpected visitor.

February: Cops and a movie! Third power outage of the season. Musing about one grandfather…and another. Coffee break. Finally, a break for Rob! In which our heroine learns that she is just as annoying as everyone else. Maybe more. A surprise wedding.

March: Small town moments. Home repairs. A visit with Jim (and other things). Dad’s 81st birthday. A date with my family. Getting a jump on spring. Suzy the screwup. Surprise present!

April: Megan’s new (to her, anyway) car! Mom’s 80th birthday. Spring planting. A rainy trip to the City. Impersonating a responsible adult. San Francisco storm. A lovely last day in the City. Jessica’s ninth birthday. The arrival of Digit, the Office Cat. Kitty update. A girls’ day out. With my favorite girl.

May: A new (well, to me) couch! My 12th blogaversary, among other things. Festive. A dilemma. License to drive. Scarred for (or by) life. An eclipse, and other things. Rob’s epic trip to see his Mother one last time. My considerably less epic trip to San Francisco. Farewell to Rob’s Mother.

June: A magical evening with the Beach Boys. Fabulous fifty! An unexpected trip. Birthday party. Dilemma solved. Birth of a garden. A wonderful tour of artists’ studios. The arrival of my first (and I hope only) subpoena.

July: A belated and fabulous birthday present. Erica and Jessica are back! My first crown. Sadly, not the Queen kind, though almost as expensive. The looming trip to Detroit makes my humble home look like paradise. The unlovely itinerary. The trip does not go according to plan. Finally in Detroit. Court of horrors. Home at last. Changes at home and at work. Time for an engine check. The neighbors stop by. A snake in the grass. I mean, house.

August: A quick trip to San Francisco. The splendid pool reopens. My 2,000th blog post. And Roscoe’s mystery injury. A lousy day with a better ending. The 11th anniversary of Dad’s death (post won’t link; it’s August 18). A new home for the adorable Digit (who is very happy there). First day at the new office – and more car problems.

September: The money fairy stops by. First foray into retail, and an update on Digit. Two very sad losses for two very dear friends. A fabulous County Fair. A check up for the Schatz. Could, woulda, shoulda – or not. Appreciating the simple things.

October: A small town moment. A very special event. A great evening with family and friends. Swimming lessons resume. Now with Jessica! The 15% pay cut rears its ugly head. So does winter. An eventful day. The Giants win the World Series again! Oh, and we go to the circus.

November: A happy Halloween. The President is, thankfully, re-elected. This campaign was brutal – I can’t believe we have to go through it again in four years. But I won’t think about that now. A beautiful way to remember. An evening at the theatah. A look around the garden. Some new beginnings. Getting ready for Thanksgiving. A wonderful Thanksgiving. Jarrett adopts the World’s Cutest Puppy.

December: Christmas decorations. Church concert. Getting ready for Christmas. A happy holiday. Lighting up the night.

Thanks for joining me for another year of adventures. I wish you all a very happy and healthy new year!

Well, the weather did come in, with days of storms, battering us with thunder, lightning, pouring rain, and hail. But I woke to a sunny day on Christmas Eve, the garden glittering with last night’s rain.

Somehow, it took me all day to get the cooking and cleaning done. By the time the house was ready, Rob was in the garden working on the barbecue, filling it with mesquite and apple wood cut from a long-abandoned tree, and Megan was walking through the secret path between our houses with an apple pie she’d made after planting onions and garlic over on the family property.

Megan started the glaze for the ham (maple syrup, bourbon, apple cider, Worcestershire sauce, etc.) and we discovered that we were short of Jack Daniel’s after that festive Thanksgiving, so we made a quick trip to the Gro and bought beer and bourbon, like total Christmas Eve degenerates.

Back at the house, I attempted to impose some civilization on the proceedings with Christmas crackers all the way from England and bright fruit in Grammie’s star dish:

The table was set with Grammie’s 90 year old, ivory-handled silverware and Nana’s wine glasses, along with the nearly 200 year old Wedgwood biscuit barrel (full of miniature cheese biscuits) and salad bowl and servers, ready for the salad with roasted pears and fresh pomegranate seeds. The mincemeat tarts are on Nana’s glass platter, embossed with the word “Remembrance”:

And I do. I miss my grandparents most at the holidays. I’m glad to use their things and feel like they are are part of the celebrations.

My friend Patrisha’s Christmas card was so wonderful that I had to hang it on the tree:

Things were pretty much under control by the time Erica and Jessica appeared, Jessica wearing soft footed PJs and her mother in a panne velvet skirt with a side slit which she had made herself, accessorized with knee-high motorcycle boots. She’s all about the style.

Before dinner, we watched the traditional “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”. Here you can see Jessica completely wrapped up in the story:

She observed that she looked a lot like Cindy Lou Who “but when I was little”, which is true. It’s hard to believe that in just a few short years she will be a teenager, and probably uninterested in hanging out with her aged aunties. She was delighted with the new bathing suit Megan bought her. We had noticed that her (pink floral) suit was too short for her, and Megan asked her what color she’d like in a new one. She said she wanted a “gothic black one”, and she got one, looking like a blonde Wednesday Addams when she tried it on.

Lichen stopped by for dinner, bringing his own special joy and peacfulness with him. Jarrett (whose puppy now weighs 25 pounds!) and Paul couldn’t make it, and Rose’s daughters were together in New Jersey, so it was much quieter than Thanksgiving, but still wonderful. I love having my family and friends gathered in my little house. I am so lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life.

Weather’s comin’

It was a winter wonderland this morning, Northern California style: hard frost on the grass by the road; the Ridge glittering with frost and puddles frozen. The ocean was shades of pewter and lavender, and the wild, white-crested waves told of storms to come. It looks like we will get another series of storms for about a week, which should be finished in time for Christmas Eve. I hope.

Christmas Eve will be Christmas day for us. Megan got the day off from work, but Jonathan is working. He is going to bring his client to dinner and then head back to work. They are both working on Christmas day, and then I am working until the 30th, so it was Christmas Eve or forget it.

It shouldn’t be quite as busy as Thanksgiving. Paul is staying in Florida after his epic trip home in the wake of Superstorm Sandy. Catrin is visiting her sister and family in New Jersey. I’m not sure if Jarrett (and puppy!) or Lichen will be there, but Erica and Jessica will be. Yay!

I’m pretty much ready. We just have stockings instead of presents – mostly – and last weekend, I went through everything to see if we had enough for everyone, and it looks like we do. It might have been the weekend before that when Megan and I met up with Monica and her crew of cheerful volunteers at the historic Little River Inn to make Christmas tree ornaments.

We brought Schatzi with us, so we could make an ornament with her pawprint in it. She was the very first customer on this beautiful day. Here you can see her with her adoring Megan, after her pawprint was immortalized, Grauman’s style:

Being nearly 15 years old, Schatzi tired pretty quickly of all the ornament festivities, so I took her back to the car, admiring the view on the way:

I have to say, Megan’s careful regimen of food, supplements, and medications have kept Schatzi in remarkably good shape, especially considering that it was nearly two years ago that Dr. Carl told us about her secretly Swiss cheese bones. Nearly every day, she comes prancing by my house in her bright sweater, looking like a five year old dog having an excellent day.

We made an ornament for Jarrett’s puppy, and later I found out that Monica also made them for Roscoe and Clyde:

and Audrey:

On our way out the door, Megan asked me how Monica came up with all these wonderful fundraising ideas, and I said, “Because she’s Monica.”

Decisions, decisions! Last Friday, there was the tree lighting ceremony in the Big Town, to be followed by the Lighted Truck Parade. It was also First Friday, the day that shops and galleries stay open late, and I should have stopped in to see my colleagues, but I had other plans.

Going to church.

It was very possibly the first time I had been to church since my father’s memorial service eleven years ago, and that was in a Quaker meeting house actually built and attended by William Penn. You know, the guy who put the Penn in Pennsylvania. It was nearly 400 years old and beautifully simple.

The church in this case is one of the best known and best loved landmarks in the Village (and is also both a national and a state historic landmark), built in 1867 of local redwood to replace a much smaller building put up a decade earlier. Here’s how it looked then:

And here’s how it looks now:

Fortunately, I had brought my trusty little flashlight, which has taken up its winter residence in whatever handbag from the Suzy Collection that I happen to be carrying. It was pretty dark in the Village, despite the occasional streetlight and the welcoming light from the church’s beautiful windows:

I scored a cushioned pew right next to the heating vent – bliss! – and about 5 rows from the altar. After taking off my coat, I looked around. This was my first visit inside this little jewel box, and it is just beautiful:

I could easily imagine the chandelier and wall sconces lit with flickering candles instead of eletcric light bulbs. It’s hard to tell from this picture, but the cross is beautifully hand carved:

Those are little white paper doves on the holiday decorations.

I was there to see my beloved swimming teacher, Sallie, sing in a choir. In addition to teaching swimming to grown-ups and kids, she is also an addiction counselor, and somehow still finds time to go to practices and perform in a choir. She is the petite girl on the left in the front row:

Sallie is radiant when she sings – she just glows. I told her that after the performance and she said that she loves to sing. It definitely shows!

It was an eclectic program, including spirituals and songs from all over the world, as well as a hymn or two and Christmas carols. For “Ave Maria”, the choir split up and some went into the choir loft:

which produced an ethereal stereo effect for the haunting song. In one of the spirituals, there was a line about how Mary had only one child, which made me wonder how that happened. Assuming Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were real, you’d think that birth control would have been an issue back then.

And although “Silent Night” was my beloved maternal grandmother’s favorite carol, the “Holy infant so tender and mild” part always make it sounds like you’re going to eat him. But I kept these thoughts to my silly, shallow Self (at least until now).

When the performance was over, I greeted some friends and chatted for a while before heading home under the blazing stars. It was a magical evening.

The day after Thanksgiving, inside…

…and outside!

So much has happened since I last wrote that I hardly know where to start.

It was a really wonderful Thanksgiving. My little house was overflowing with friends, family, and food. Good thing we had the outdoor seating area as well as the indoors.

The turkey cooked a little faster than I had anticipated:

Erica thinks that the temperature indicated on my tiny old Wedgwood stove might not be all that accurate. Erica and Jonathan came to my rescue when I forgot to turn on the potatoes while simultaneously forgetting that the stuffing was in the oven. It’s a real pleasure to watch two professionals swing into action. And this was after they had already supplied the pies:

Erica’s pies, garnished with rose geranium, were some kind of squash rather than pumpkin and were made with caramelized sugar. They were like eating pumpkin truffles – really rich and really delicious. In contrast, Jonathan’s lemon tart – his first ever – was light with a perfect citrusy bite. It was garnished with lemon peel he candied himself.

Jessica and I explored my jewelry box, and she unearthed a pair of diamond earrings I had forgotten about but am wearing now. Here you see her excavating Queen Suzy’s Mines:

Remarkably, she returned the ruby necklace I had loaned her indefinitely last year. I have to say, I didn’t really expect her to return it, at least, not so soon. Now that I think about it, she may have gone home wearing a little diamond necklace instead…

I got some fizzy cranberry and apple juice for Jessica, and found a small cordial glass and a small Champagne goblet. I asked her if she preferred the flute or the Marie Antoinette style, and she immediately exclaimed, “Marie Antoinette!”

Then she said, “I just got an idea for a Halloween costume – restored Marie Antoinette!” She added that she could still have fake blood on her neck even though her head would be reattached. She then started speculating on her wig and gown. Is it any wonder I forgot about the potatoes?

It was a wonderful evening, with the fire and candles outside, and love and laughter inside and out. My family was there, as well as Jarrett and Lichen, who brought cocktails for the grownups and fizzy juice for Jessica, Rose’s daughter Catrin and her husband Zac, and a couple of other people who stopped by to say hello. I just love having my house full of family and friends. We have a lot to be thankful for.

The secret to surviving Thanksgiving – as with most things – is to plan ahead and prepare as much as possible.

The jobette very sweetly gave me yesterday off, so I started off by roasting chestnuts (for stuffing) and pears (for the salad). While they were roasting, I dug up potatoes from the buckets of sand where my brother and sister had stored the ones they grew this summer:

Including the mutant voodoo doll potato:

Then I made cranberry-bourbon relish, once again marveling over how incredibly disgusting booze smells in the morning, as opposed to in the evening. It’s worth it, though, and look how pretty it is in my paternal grandmother’s star dish:

After two loads of dishes and kitchen clean-up, it was time to clean my humble abode. I spent hours de-spider webbing, mopping, vacuuming, etc., and the house looks pretty good:

This Thanksgiving morning, I woke up to sunny skies after a week and several inches of rain. Megan stopped by on her way home from work, bearing more wine and a free-range, organic turkey. Oh, and a hug and a kiss.

I spent this morning chopping up Café Beaujolais sunflower bread and sourdough for stuffing, along with apples, onions, celery, sage, and those damn chestnuts. It took longer than I thought, and I had to use two bowls to hold it. Then I made the salad, putting half of it in my paternal grandmother’s Wedgwood salad bowl and the other in a less picturesque bowl. Then I made the salad dressing and sliced up the pears.

Rob just appeared and removed the old outdoor couch, and we set up a seating area around the outside fireplace (or, you know, the big old rusty thing I burn paper in during the winter):

There will be abut 12 of us, including Erica, Jessica, Jarrett, Lichen, Rose’s daughter Catrin and her new husband Zac, so we’ll need all the room we can get.

The turkey is now roasting merrily away, Jonathan is bringing a lemon tart he made, and Erica is bringing a couple of other pies, so I think we’re all set! Ready, set…

Waiting for the light to change

I arrived at the clinic at 4:40 yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t see the doctor until after 6:00. Fortunately, I had the latest Ruth Rendell (“Really, Megan, have you ever known me to be without a book?”), and the hell trip to Detroit this summer has made every other wait comparatively easy. Compared to four hours (or was it more?) at O’Hare or three or more at SFO in the middle of the night without even a glass of water, it was a joy. Maybe that trip has finally cured my chronic impatience.

Or not.

When I finally got in there, Dr. Sue, who is a friend of my sister’s and now officially takes care of our whole family, apologized for the delay and then looked at my chart.

“Why are you here?” she asked, mystified.

I said that they made me, refusing to refill the medicine for my fluttery heart (no medical intervention as yet for the Grinchiness, though) until a doctor examined me, possibly for actual signs of said heart.

“That’s ridiculous”, she said. “You were here 9 months ago and your blood work is perfect.” She listened to my heart and checked all my vital signs, and, as usual I was pairfectly fine (to quote Jacques Pepin). She emailed the pharmacy with refills for a year and said she’d see me then.

It was a mere $50 to find out I was fine, and although the Giants game was well underway by the time I got in the car, I listened to it on the radio on the way home. I got there in time to see the Giants win 8-3.

Audrey celebrated by staying out all night. She finally showed up in time for me to put her in her carrier and into the car. She had pooped before I had driven more than two miles, so I had to shift abruptly from the pleasant heat to having all the windows open and freezing while gagging.

By the time I arrived at the vet, Audrey was foaming at the mouth and had drool all over the bars of her carrier. Good thing Atticus Finch wasn’t around.

Dr. Karen was not there. She had to rush to her elderly father’s bedside in southern California, and got there just a few hours before he died. He had Alzheimer’s and it had been a very difficult time, but she is glad she made it on time and that he is at rest. Megan spoke with her this evening and comforted her.

Dr. Carl stepped in, as wonderful as ever. He was actually able to calm Audrey down and she didn’t complain when he examined her. Here you can see her exploring the examination room:

It’s a good thing I brought her in, because she has a severe allergy to fleas and has dermatitis. The lumps are her lymph system fighting off the allergy and infection. She needed blood tests, a steroid shot, and an antibiotic shot. She also requires a dropper of Omega-3s on her food once a day to help keep her skin in shape. Oh, and the flea treatment.

It was more than $300, but worth it to get Audrey happy and healthy again.

I had to leave her there for the blood tests, so I amused myself by poking around the Village, which was looking quite lovely between storms:

As I snapped this view from the bookstore, it occurred to me that despite the 1.5 inches of rain in the rain gauge, you probably don’t believe me when I complain about the weather when it looks like this on my blog most of the time:

Relieved of the weighty weight of $300 and Audrey worries, we yowled our way home in the sunshine, three hours after we had left home. On arrival, I let Audrey out into the garden and removed the towel which she had puked on, adding it to the poo towel and the mountain of bedding to be washed.

I had sprinkled diatomaceous earth on all the carpets before I left, so I put in load 1 of 9,000 of washing and started vacuuming. Somehow I ended up sweeping and mopping and cleaning in a manner I had not expected, though I had “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” on TV to keep me company. I was just hauling a load of blankets out of the dryer when Paul walked in.

He will be here tonight and is heading back to San Francisco tomorrow. He has met a girl in San Francisco he’s really excited about and has a couple of dates set up with her before he heads back to pick up his car in the Hamptons and drive it home to Florida for the weekend. Looks like he will be back at Christmas, so yay!

It has been quite a day. Time for a drink and the Giants game.

On Saturday morning, Megan and I had our first swimming lesson since the end of August. But on our way to the quite splendid pool, instead of turning right at the highway, the way to the Big Town, we turned left, the way that leads to San Francisco and Civilization.

Why, you may ask. You know I’m good at getting lost, but after nearly three years in Hooterville, you’d think I’d at least know where the pool is.

There was a method to our madness: we were going to pick up Jessica to take her for a swimming lesson!

We met up with Erica and Jessica at a spot on Highway 128 where the redwoods tower overhead, hiding the skies like buildings in New York. The air smelled absolutely intoxicating, and it looked so primeval that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dinosaur emerge from the ancient trees and enormous ferns.

As Jessica settled into the backseat of Megan’s car, she sighed, “It’s sooo good to have my auntourage back!” And she will have her auntourage with her on Halloween – Megan took the night off, and I will meet them in the Village after work. Jessica is going to be a princess-vampire-assassin. She has already made her own circlet and dagger.

Megan reminded Jessica that her swimming lessons would be after ours, which is an hour long (well, a therapist’s hour long). So she would have to amuse herself during that time.

Megan: “Did you bring a book or something?”

Jessica: “Megan, have you ever known me to be without a book?”

Megan admitted that this was true. It turned out that the book was The Lightning Thief, which sounded so interesting that I ordered it from the library. A discussion ensued on Greek and Roman mythology and what would be the best super power to have. Jessica liked staying dry and breathing under water (possibly influenced both by the book and the impending pool time), whereas Megan thought flying was the way to go. I maintain that invisibility would be best. What do you think?

Once we arrived at the pool, it turned out that the bottle of water in my swimming bag had leaked its contents, pre-moistening both my swimming attire and the towel, rendering it useless.

Oh, well. Class was great, and Jessica absolutely adores Sallie (and vice-versa). After class, I rinsed off in the poolside shower and sort of dried my hair, threw my clothes on, and slapped on some concealer and lip gloss. Then I dropped off Megan’s car to get all new tires* and hustled the many blocks to work with my wet hair and library bag full of books**. The tire place closes at noon on Saturday, so that gave them about 40 minutes to install the new tires. Before I even left the premises, they had the car jacked up and ready to go.

Later, Megan and Jessica turned up with sandwiches, which we enjoyed at the conference room table with its brand-new carpet supplied by Monica’s store of fabulousness, The Floor Store:

It’s just a bonus that the name of the carpet is “Crime Scene.” Once again I wished my job was naming things like nail polish. Or carpet.

It’s so great to know that we have a date with Jessica every Saturday for the next few weeks, except next week. For some reason, the pool is closed because school is closed in the Big Town. You’d think that would make it easier to get to swimming lessons, but what does a career non-parent know about things like that?

Anyway, the week after next, Jessica is staying with us all weekend,because Erica is entering some costume competitions in Santa Rosa, and we’re going to the Zoppé Circus, an Italian family circus which has been delighting people since 1842. How’s that for a great weekend?

*Living in the country has made me really appreciate things like tires, fences, and driveways. And their surprising cost.

**I had the new Linwood Barclayand Ruth Rendell waiting for me. Yay!

Note: The post below was interrupted by a power outage, literally out of the clear blue sky. I guess I was overly optimistic about the rest of the day being better than the morning.

I’m doing laundry before I go to the jobette. It’s a sunny day and I want to hang out laundry while the sun shines.

It’s already been quite the morning, and it’s not even 8:30. First the Clyde-defying shelf under my painting liberated itself, bonking me on the head and hand. I had those little cartoon birds and stars flying around my head while I wondered what happened.

While I was wondering, Clyde came running in with a dead bird in his mouth. I shooed him out and closed the door behind him.

The rest of the day should be better, right?

Yesterday, I sold more than $80 worth of stuff to unsuspecting tourists, a personal best so far. I also answered some unusual questions, such as where to buy underwear. You never know what will happen at the jobette.

When I was finished answering questions and selling things yesterday, I went to my brother’s place for a BBQ with our visiting friend, Paul. We have known him for 20 years, ever since he, Jonathan, and Megan and Rob were living on boats at Pier 39. He’s more like family, and has made several appearances in my blog over the years. I wish I weren’t working so much during this visit. At least we had a great time last night.

Megan marinated a pork roast from the farmers’ market overnight, and then set it slow cook in foil over the BBQ. Meanwhile, she made salsa using the tomatoes, cilantro, and onions from the garden while Paul toasted fresh corn in a skillet with shallots and red peppers, adding lime and cilantro at the last minute. I told him he should sell it as “Roasted corn ceviche” in the Hamptons next summer (he is caterer to the stars). He also grilled onions and red peppers over the BBQ. Here he is, supervising the BBQ with Star supervising him:

We also had a guest appearance by Schatzi. Due to her brittle bones, she doesn’t often leave home where she might be bounced à la Tigger and injured. But yesterday, she decided that she wanted to come along, and happily spent the afternoon trotting around or napping on the hay:

The garden is dying back, though the tomatoes continue to rampage. The sweetpeas we planted for Dad still look beautiful:

In case you’re wondering, the blue tape marks Dad’s favorites, so we can make sure we plant them again next year.

These flowers, whatever they are, continue to flourish:

And these by the gate, which might be African daisies:

Paul is on his way back to San Francisco tomorrow, where he will visit his uncle and then head to Pasadena, where his daughter and grandchildren live. He said he will come back and see us before he flies back to New York to pick up his car and drive to his home in Florida for the winter. I’m hoping he will come back for Christmas.