Suzy Says

My sister’s tree

Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny. I know, because Audrey woke me up so I could see for myself.

The first order of business was taking Schatzi for a walk. We went over to our brother’s place, checked on the bees, and let Schatzi run and roam to her heart’s content. It was warm enough that Megan and I took off our sweaters, enjoying the sun on our skin. When it was time to leave, Schatzi was nowhere to be seen. We called her and Megan whistled loud enough to summon a New York taxi, but no dog. Megan was ready to leave without her, but I freaked out, so we gave it one more try. She finally showed up then, covered with mud. Including her nose.

Merry Christmas!

After that, it was time to start on the feast, which somehow took up most of the rest of the day. Rob pruned an apple tree so he had wood to smoke the ham, which was basted for hours with maple-bourbon glaze invented years ago by our brother, a formerly professional cook. While Rob tended the barbecue, I made my famous cheese biscuits and gratuitous stuffing (at Megan’s request). I invented the stuffing and it turned out great: cornbread, multi-grain bread, pecans, apples, celery, onion, herbs from the garden, leftover wine, chicken stock, and butter.

I also made an unnecessarily complicated side dish of cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, and red onions with a seedy mustard vinaigrette. Add in my apple pie and Megan’s pumpkin pie, both adorned with stars in the pastry, and you have a festive dinner!

Unfortunately, Erica was too sick to attend, so that meant no Jessica, either. However, their presents and stockings are still under the tree, so we can have another celebration later.

Jonathan got off work early, so dinner was still hot when he arrived around 7. After dinner, we all opened our stockings. It’s so fun to see the person whose stocking you made opening it. I got Megan again this year, and a couple of weeks ago, she brought* a box from Sephora to my house, commenting that she wished it was for her. It actually was, containing a travel size skincare kit, and I was delighted to finally tell her that. We couldn’t stop laughing.

While we were opening our stockings, the cats were playing outside under the stars. Audrey showed up at the sliding glass doors with a live mouse in her mouth, clearly proud of her hunting prowess. Needless to say, I was horrified, and my sibs were amused at my horror. “Just wait until they figure out how to eat them!” they said gleefully, adding that cats don’t eat the legs or tail, so there’s always leftovers. Yay! I tried not to think about Audrey sitting on my lap later, licking my hand with her mouse tongue and kissing me with her mouse breath.

I didn’t let the cats back in until there was no sign of that mouse, or any other mouse, for that matter.

*We all share a post office box, so we’re always picking up each other’s mail. Also, all the Fed Ex and UPS packages for everyone on the property are dropped off at a little shelter near the road, and whoever sees the package first brings it to its recipient. It’s not unusual to come home and find a package on your table.

When I came downstairs this morning, Lucky the deer was attempting to eat the Chico bag I had hung outside to dry yesterday. It probably tastes better than ancient futon filler, but I took it away before she could make a meal of it. Mark and his family are visiting family in Mexico for a month, so I expect more visits from Luna and Lucky while they’re away.

It was so sunny and cloudless today that it was hard to believe it had rained so hard the day (and night) before. Megan and I took Schatzi for a walk after checking in with the boys. They’re working on something to do with lawnmowers which will make it possible for me to run the internet (I can hear you all sighing with relief) and the refrigerator in addition to the heater if the power goes out, mainitaining, as my brother put it, “some level of civility”.

I didn’t ask them to, and am really touched that they thought of doing it and are spending what little free time they have to work on it.

In addition to creating an oasis of civility for me, they’ve capped off the well (Rob added the year):

and made the bee hive bear-resistant with electrical fencing and a little gate. Apparently actual bear proofing is a very difficult and expensive undertaking, so we’re hoping that the first encounter with the electrified fence will be unenjoyable enough that the bear will go elsewhere for a less hazardous and easier snack:

Interestingly, the bears are more interested in the baby bees (grubs) than they are in the honey. Winnie the Pooh led me astray on that one.

Jonathan explained to us how to turn off the electric fence, and hopefully I’ll be better at remembering that than I am at how to reset the pilot light on my flash heater, which is perched precariously on the side of my house so it’s easier for the pipes to freeze during cold snaps and the pilot light to blow out when it’s breezy.

Sometimes I worry that the whole house will just explode one day, what with the unpredictable gas stove, the propane heater in the living room, and the back-up car batteries in the studio. Not to mention the open area on the front of the dryer so you can see the flames of the propane hard at work. All that expensive gas all around me does make me nervous, though it’s undoubtedly irrational, since I had a gas furnace and stove in Oakland, too. Not that being irrational has ever stopped me from worrying.

I really like this theme, but it’s kind of hard to read. Also links within posts don’t seem to work, as in “party” below. I guess it’s a lot to ask for both form and function in one pretty package.

Megan and I are heading to Berkeley today to attend BAD RAP’s tenth anniversary party. You may remember her fifteen minutes of fame protesting Michael Vick’s playing at the Oakland Coliseum a couple of months back and her general passion for pit bulls, sparked by her own little Schatzi.

Well, this party is to celebrate a decade of BAD RAP helping pit bulls, and some of the rescued Vick dogs will be there. There will be food and music and chances to win prizes, but what Megan most wants to do is network with other pit bull lovers. Her dream is to set up a small rescue operation of her own, and the more people you know when attempting something like that, even in the future, the better.

I have to admit that I’m a little nervous about attending the event, because I can’t bear to hear or read stories of cruelty to animals, even when there’s a happy ending. When the news of Michael Vick’s atrocities was on the news, I couldn’t stop crying, and when Megan casually refers to the appalling abuse Schatzi endured in her early years (which I will spare you), I literally get nauseous and beg her to stop. So I may not be the best candidate to be in a room full of rescued dogs. But I want to support them, and Megan, so I’ll have to gather up my few shreds of courage and go.

We’re leaving later on today for the four hour drive. We’ll stay in a motel overnight, where I am planning to take a bubble bath and emerge from said bath into a warm room, a thought that fills me with excitement. Hopefully we can do some city-related shopping, such as a new DVD player for Megan, and pick up some of the Bay Area’s famed delicacies to bring back to Hooterville on Sunday afternoon.

I wonder what being in a city will be like after six weeks in the country. Stay tuned!

This is going to be mostly a pictorial, since the working (and digging) of wells is beyond me. Megan and I have limited our involvement to bringing the boys lunch and picking up essential items from the store, like candy bars and cigarettes. Add in some nylons and you have your basic WWII GI rescue kit.

As we walked back to the car yesterday, there was a heated argument going on behind us about kinetic energy. I observed to Megan that our roles were clearly divided along traditional lines, with us doing the cooking and laundry and the boys doing the manual labor.

“Yup,” she agreed, opening the car door. “And I’m just fine with it.”

The first thing I learned was that the well looks like this, not a big hole in the ground that will one day have a stone Jack & Jill type wall around it.

Though we could definitely use a wishing well around here.

The pipe comes out of the well and over this basketball hoop looking thing to a muddy hole and bucket, where the mud, rock, sand(!), and clay are pumped out of the well.

Here’s the bucket and resulting mud pit. Schatzi found this the most interesting part of the operation.

This is the compressor, which powers the whole thing. Jonathan found it on Craigslist (where else?) and went all the way to Concord to buy it from some skeevy guy who tried to rip him off, but failed. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to put one over on Jonathan, especially where machinery and mechanics are involved. He ended up getting for a fraction of the original asking price, though he and Rob spent a couple of days repairing and refurbishing it. But it costs $162 a day to rent one, so it’s already paid for itself.

This is some kind of doodad (that’s the technical term, of course) which has oil and water in it. It has something to do with the actual drill.

The well is sort of done now. All the digging is complete, but there are other things to be done which are beyond my limited grasp of well digging. I’m so proud of the boys!

View from the bookstore

In addition to picking up unglamorous necessities at the unglamorous Rite Aid (why do I always run out of all my drugstore items at once?), I also stopped off in Mendocino to pick up the organic, free-range Thanksgiving turkey from Mendosa’s. Fortunately for me, my sister had prepaid it, so all I had to do was put the box in my cart along with the last minute T-Day items: a bag of fresh green beans the size of my head, and equally fresh cranberries for my (in)famous cranberry-bourbon relish.

The last time Meg and I were at Mendosa’s, we noticed that they had ribbon candy for sale. Hand-made ribbon candy. My grandmother, whose wedding photo you recently admired, used to keep ribbon candy in a cut-glass covered dish at the holidays, and looking at the bright candy curls instantly brought me back to her wonderfully festive holiday celebrations. We bought some of the clove flavor, and it was even better than I remembered. I looked for it this time but alas! Others seemed to have discovered it, too, and they were out. They did have candy coal, though, which might be good for Christmas stockings. We’re all a lot naughtier than nice.

With that out of the way, I decided to stop by the bookstore, which has the view you see above. It also happened to have Christmas cards by the wonderful Snow & Graham, so I picked some up, while resisting buying new books, including the latest by Michael Connelly, even though it was autographed. It’s a great place to browse.

I spent much of today being shockingly domestic. I set the turkey to marinate in the brine I made while simultaneously making syrup for the bees (more later on that subject); made a shepherd’s pie with ground turkey also bought from Mendosa’s; did about 5,000 loads of laundry (some for Rob, some bedding for our T-Day guests, and some of my humble own); made lunch for the boys, who started digging a well on the property today; walked Schatzi on the logging road, and etc.

The plan is to brine the turkey overnight, rinse it and let it rest tomorrow, and either smoke it, if Jonathan isn’t on well patrol, or roast it if he is. Tomorrow I’ll cook the cranberries. Erica is bringing the pies and stuffing made with chestnuts she harvested herself, so all we’ll have to make on the day is the turkey, the mashed potatoes, and the green beans.

The first Thanksgiving in my new house! And no travel required.

I could have borrowed the title of this post from the title of Haven Kimmel’s delightful memoir She Got Up Off the Couch: And Other Heroic Acts. Yesterday, I performed my own heroic act by getting up off my own couch and accompanying Megan (and, more importantly, Princess Schatzi) to the Mendocino Headlands.

The quaint town of Mendocino is perched on rocky bluffs which jut out into the ocean. The trees there are windswept and bent into fanciful shapes from years of wind and weather. The headlands are bordered by blackberry bushes and rose brambles, and there are trails all along the rugged coastline.

It was a beautiful day, and there was a high surf advisory, so the ocean was even more spectacular than usual. Schatzi bounced happily along, wearing her cozy sweater (pit bulls have very thin fur and really feel the cold. Schatzi literally dances on her hind legs for joy when Megan gets a sweater out for her) and sniffing the exciting smells. I walked along more slowly, careful to look for unexpected rocks and gopher holes. It was good to move again, even if it was somewhat painful. I loved the sea air and the spray on my face and the sun on my aching bones. And the company.

Yesterday, Megan and Rob came by, bringing Princess Schatzi for the first time.

Henry declined to appear – he has a dim view of society in general and visitors in particular – and June retreated to the top of the stairs so she could look down on the intruder.

Adventurous Audrey, on the other hand, sat on the leather bench in front of the couch, where Schatzi was sitting between Meg and me. The cat and the dog sniffed each other, but there was no growling or clawing. Possibly all we need to do to settle that little problem in the Middle East is to have the Palestinians and Israelis come to my house. No fighting ever seems to go on here. It’s like a Mystery Spot of peace.

Later, Audrey sat on my lap, napping and purring, with Schatzi right beside me, just inches away.

Schatzi in her “Happy Halloween” sweater, which glows in the dark!

Megan and I ventured to Lu’s new house for a party on Friday night.

The new house is near a small town called Gualala (variously pronounced Gwa-la-la and Wah-la-la). It’s about an hour’s drive away, on twisty and turny roads (there seems to be no other kind around here). It was so foggy most of the way that I was spared the horror of looking down the precipitous cliffs to the ocean below, and it had an appropriately horror movie feel, with the fog drifting out from wind-bent trees. Megan, having often driven the ambulance down this road in storms and icy roads and other adverse and perverse conditions, was unperturbed as usual.

On the way, she pointed out the sign for the Beacon Bar. Apparently, it’s a guy who turns his barn into a bar when he feels like it, and when he feels like it, he lights a beacon to alert the drinking and driving public. The fog had cleared enough by the time we came back to see the light.

En route to the party, we stopped off in the charming little town of Point Arena for coffee. It has a nice old movie theater showing new movies, some cafes and little shops, including, surprisingly, a record store.

The sun came out as we approached Lu’s house, which is set on four acres in the woods. We were greeted enthusiastically by the humans and canines, including little Harlow (aka my puppy), who Lu and Rick adopted a couple of weeks ago. Harlow helped to carve a Jack-o-lantern:

while wearing a ballerina costume. Later, she managed to get out of the outfit and had a nap in her fancy bed:

I think she’s done pretty well for herself.

The party was fun. Lots of people, kids and dogs running around. Rick had made his famous jambalaya and beer bread, and we ate at a bonfire near the house. After dinner, we went through the haunted house Lu and Rick had made in the woods. I thought it was great, though they have made much more elaborate ones in the past. The perfect touch was added by one of the kids jumping out and yelling “Boo!” at me, making me jump and scream in a satisfying manner.

Up next: experiments in gravity. Turns out ol’ Isaac Newton knew what he was talking about.

Can you spot the puppy?

Well, not really my puppy.

Megan and her partner in pit bulls, Monica, are time sharing “my” puppy, who can be seen here. Megan takes her from Thursday to Sunday, and Monica has her the rest of the week, when Megan is working those twelve hour night shifts and sleeping in the daytime like a vampire. So fashionable!

During the next couple of months, M&M will socialize and train the puppy. She will also get used to other dogs, since both Ms have them, and go to puppy school. It seems that early schooling is not limited to people these days*. The idea is to make the puppy as adoptable as possible and lower the chances of her being returned. The fostering lasts two to three months, so there’s a temp puppy in my future. Yay!

If this works out, Meg will keep doing it, so there may be a parade of temp puppies in my future!

So far, Queen Schatzi seems unconcerned by the invasion of her domain, while the puppy is her most loyal servant (next to Megan, that is). I was reminded of when my brother got his puppy, Jed, and Jed was so relieved to find his dog Heidi in residence. Here’s a teeny picture** I found of Jed and Heidi when they first met:

During my Beat the Heat week, we went to the shelter, walked the puppies’ mama, and checked out the pups, who are now two months old. “My” puppy immediately recognized me and came running, snuffling my fingers through the cage mesh. She also stared at me as I left, though the other puppies were playing in complete unconcern. I’m convinced she remembered me.

She is the runt of the litter, and in keeping with being “my” puppy, she is a little obnoxious, so M&M are hoping to make her nicer, too. If only someone had trained me at a young age! Her name is Harlow, as in the gorgeous and glamorous Jean, which is my middle name, too. What better name for a little starlet?

*Kids go to preschool really young now, at least by my antiquated standards. I didn’t go until the age of five, when I arrived at kindergarten already able to read and write. The idea of preschool kind of fills me with horror. I mean, aren’t 12+ years of school enough?

**It appears that a chair or table leg is growing out of Heidi’s head, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.

Today I’m coming to you from Moodys, where there is WiFi access in Mendocino. Megan is walking Schatzi on the headlands, so I have a little time today. This is the post I wrote on Tuesday, which got preempted by the quickie house post yesterday. A girl has her priorities.

Rose’s service is at 4:00 today. I’m not sure what to expect, but I’m glad I can be there. I missed James’s when I was at that stupid conference in Florida, so it’s really important to me to be there today.

We never did get to the fair. It was too hot in Boonville that day. Anderson Valley is where you flip on the A/C and leave it on until you reach the Coast (going north) or the Bay (going south). Since my goal was heat avoidance, I decided not to go this year, but there’s always next year. And the year after that…

In keeping with the goal, Meg and I took Schatzi to the beach at Big River*. It’s an estuary, where the ocean meets the river, and the river stays salty for several miles inland. Megan has canoed up the river with L, my haybale hair stylist, and says it’s amazing, very peaceful and lots of wildlife. One of these days we’ll have to do that.

Even though it was a warm day, country warm is not the same as city warm. There’s always a breeze here, and when you go inside, the house is cool, being shaded by redwoods. Also I think the heat bouncing off all the sidewalks and roads and cars in the city makes things hotter, but this is just one of my theories. At the beach, there was a cool sea breeze, which was very refreshing.

You can see below why the rocky Mendocino coast is often the body double for the rocky New England coast:

Schatzi waded happily in the water, and when she came out, immediately rolled around in the sand. It was caked all over her nose, and she looked hilarious. I tried to get a picture, but she shook it off too quickly – all over us. Fortunately, she dries almost instantly.

We stopped at the Little River deli to get frozen strawberry lemonade for us and turkey jerky for Schatzi. Treats all round! The cashier recognized Megan from the fire last year, when she and Jonathan responded to the 911 call. This is a frequent occurrence, even when she’s out of uniform. My favorite is when she met a guy at the Albion store and said, “Nice to see you upright!” as she passed him in the aisle.

*Fun fact: Big River was named for the size of the trees on its shores, not for its breadth.

Schatzi lounges precariously on the back porch*

The Doc kindly upgraded my WordPress while I was busy fleeing from the city and doing important things like having a barbecue at my brother’s place to celebrate our brother-in-law’s birthday. When the sun had made its final farewell bow, a single bat appeared on the horizon, zipping and dipping crazily through the pale pink sky. It was feasting on the plague of termites. Being a city girl, I had no idea that termites flew. Apparently, they have about two weeks of flying around on their four wings, which they then shed before they get down to the serious business of eating your house. The ground will be littered with their iridescent cast-offs.

As we sat around the fire, I thought of what an ancient human instinct it is to do so. I bet we’ve been doing it since the first fire discovery, and no matter how advanced we get with technology, people still want to gather around the fire, even if it’s symbolic, like people hanging out in the kitchen when you have a party.

The sky was awash with stars, and the Milky Way was so dense that it looked foggy in the clear, dark sky. It was amazing to think that we’re part of it.

When the boys started arguing about whether the universe was finite (Rob) or infinite (Jonathan), Megan and I packed up Schatzi and a few leftovers and went home to drink wine in the garden and talk about how infinitely silly boys are. 

Up next: a day at the beach!

*This is one of her eccentricities, along with eating only one particular bamboo plant in the garden. Even though the lower step is about twice the size of the one she’s lying on, she always chooses the smaller step to perch on.