Suzy Says

Saturday was my last day of working at the jobette. For real-real, as Jessica used to say in her long-ago youth. They have hired someone to work from Tuesday through Saturday, so they will only need me on Saturdays to fill in for her if she has to work an event or something.

I walked slowly through the familiar shop after I turned out the lights, and turned the sign to “Closed”, feeling a little sad. It was just a summer job, but it kept me connected to my former work family and the visitors. I guess it’s always hard to say goodbye.

Fortunately, my brother and sister decided to have an impromptu BBQ that evening for no particular reason, so I headed over there after I went home and changed out of my work clothes and corralled the kitties.

Our good friend Lichen was there:

Here’s a view of the canopy Rob picked up at the mall. You can see some of the Waltons-sized picnic table my brother built out of redwood a couple of years ago:

In case you’re wondering who the mystery dog is in the picture, it’s Marley. Marley is at Camp Lichen for a few days, learning valuable lessons like how not to whine his ass off when temporarily left in the car by his owner. Lichen is an excellent dog trainer, being both gentle and intolerant of nonsense.

Jonathan grilled up a simple dinner of sausages, and I thought that it won’t be long until he is manning the ‘cue for the traditional Christmas ham. This year the equally traditional split pea soup will be made of beans from the garden. I have heard rumors that I should resurrect making parsnip vichyssoise for Christmas Eve from the garden’s parsnips. And that there are plans afoot to make hard cider from all those apples.

Later, the moon rose over the garden:

I suck at taking moon pictures, y’all. Even though the moon and I are pretty close after the mystical experience we shared a couple of years ago, I have never been able to take a good photo of her. Maybe she needs to start considering selfies and stop letting Kim Kardashian have all the fun.

A YEAR AGO: Bugs and fairies. You know, the usual.

It seems strange that I had more to write about when spending more time at home in Hooterville than I do now I’m out in the world five or six days a week. It’s probably because I’m spending that time immured in work in my office, and who wants to read about that? Work has severely decreased my reading time as well, and I am at an all-time low for books read this year. Even someone as math-challenged as I am can figure out that + work = – fun.

It was a preview of coming attractions this morning. I left early to fit in some grocery shopping before work, and it was both dark and foggy, rendering high beams useless. The fog throws the light back at the car instead of lighting the dark road, so you have to drive along in an anemic puddle of light, hoping that a deer doesn’t suddenly loom up in the road. When it comes to hitting deer (and falling in the water when he, Megan, and Rob lived on boats at Pier 39 in San Francisco), my brother says there’s only two kinds of people: them that has, and them that will. I’m hoping to stay in the latter category as long as possible.

The familiar Ridge, which I have driven so many times, becomes a scary and unknown place in the dark, a likely setting for a horror novel, and speeds which seem moderate or even slow in daylight hours seem extremely speedy when deprived of daylight. There are no streetlights at all on the Ridge or on storied Highway One, so it’s like driving blind. Indeed, I am often blinded by traffic heading the other way. I squint more when driving in the dark than I ever do in the bright California sun, blasted by the headlights of oncoming traffic. The anemic puddle of light is pretty much my only option, since most traffic is heading south in the morning (also mysterious, since they are heading away from the Big Town, where the jobs are), and I’d just be turning the high beams on and off every five seconds.

Pretty soon, I will be driving in the dark both ways, especially after the twice-yearly madness of the time change. It has taken me a while to realize that the entire purpose of the time change is to make sure that you have to get up in the dark for 9 or 10 months of the year. As soon as there is a glimmer of hope in the pre-dawn hours, it is cruelly snatched away by the Powers That Be. I find it mysterious that we have not risen up and rebelled, especially since most of us have to rise when it’s still dark out, which just adds insult to injury. It’s still going to get dark sooner than most people would prefer, but that’s the time when you curl up with your cats and a book or a hockey game, maybe a glass of wine, and enjoy the comforts of home. It’s cozy. And it’s Nature! Deal with it!

/Rant

A YEAR AGO: My bathroom remodel is almost finished. Brought to me by Rob, using all found and reclaimed materials.

It’s the middle of September, and you know what that means: time for the County Fair!

I left work early on Friday afternoon, picked up Megan, and set off fairwards. It was a postcard day, with not even a wisp of Karl the Fog* over the shining blue Pacific as we wended our way through the eternal redwoods and into sunny Anderson Valley.

When we lived in San Francisco, one of Megan’s many gifts was being able to get a taxi anywhere, any time. This talent has been modified over many years of country living to always being able to find a parking spot** (and a sort of ESP when it comes to California Highway Patrol, an ability that has undoubtedly saved her many tickets over the years). Fair Day was no exception, as she neatly parked Wednesday about a block from the fairgrounds.

We texted Erica on arrival and found that she was also there, so we happily met up in the floral building, where there was a Suzy theme going on, including pinkness and whimsy:

accessorized by glittery silver shoes. On a silver platter, no less!

The glamor theme continued in the livestock area, with fashion forward fowl whose outfit I coveted:

and glamorous goats with glitter signs. We even got to pet the world’s softest bunny, belonging to a very young and very poised 4-H girl.

In the agriculture building, it soon became clear that both the wildfires and the drought had taken a serious toll. The “biggest” pumpkin in the weigh off this year was a mere 200 pounds:

compared to last year’s 700 pounder. There was very little produce on display at all, other than apples and grapes. I wonder if this is the beginning of a new era.

It was a new era Jessica-wise as well. This was the first year she spent most of her time with her friends instead of her auntourage. In case you’re wondering: I chose not to embarrass Jessica by taking her picture when she was with her posse. I know this is the way it should be, but it makes me a little wistful about time passing and how she is no longer a little girl. Indeed, her curves are kicking in, despite her model slimness, and it was alarming to observe the effect she had on the male population. To be fair, she was wearing sunglasses, so they couldn’t know how young she was, but yikes. Fortunately, she has a good head on her shoulders and a smart mama.

Megan and I enjoyed strolling around the fair with Jessica’s smart mama. She has recently acquired two cattens (not quite cats; not quite kittens), a long-haired black female named Hecate and a short-haired grey male named Man Ray. They are rescued litter mates. I must go and meet them as soon as I stop working on Saturdays.

So it was kind of a skimpy fair this year, but we still had fun. I always have fun with Megan, Erica and Jessica.

*As I write, it’s 86 heinous degrees in my living room. I think Karl needs a nice, relaxing visit to the Mendocino Coast. He can be seen here hanging out in my old ‘hood:

**Sometimes this has backfired on her, though.

A YEAR AGO: At the Fair, of course!

Meanwhile, back in Absurd World™…
I foolishly checked the mail on Friday, even though I know no good ever comes of it**, and was greeted with a dental bill for more than $100. You may remember that I lost part of a filling recently, and had to visit the dentist to get a temporary fix (and pay for that) and then the real fix (and pay again). For some reason, I believed that having insurance after about 15 years of not having any would actually make it less expensive to visit the tooth doctor, but I should have known better than that.

I called the dental insurance folks, who informed me that my luxurious dental plan only covers up to amalgam (the old school style silver) fillings, and I had a resin one put in. I asked if the dental staff should not have told me that resin wasn’t covered and offered me the amalgam option instead, and the insurance person said that amalgam fillings are no longer done.

Me: “So it only covers up to a service that is no longer provided?”
Them: “Correct.” [Pause] “It’s your responsibility to know what’s covered.”

It seems I was better off, or at least no worse off, when I had no insurance. Now I’m paying into it every month, and when I have the temerity to use it, I still have to pay. I ended up paying $200 of the $238 bill for the filling. All in all, it doesn’t seem like a great system.

*Title inspired by little Miss Marina, the Beatlemaniac. 🙂

**To be fair, sometimes there are postcards and The New Yorker.

A YEAR AGO: Random updates.

We celebrated Jonathan’s 50th birthday* last weekend with, appropriately enough, a garden party. Well, a garden party our style. And it’s appropriate because the 80 foot by 80 foot garden/party palace was made with the hard work and vision of my siblings, with a little help from our (heavy machinery owning) friends. It all started a few years ago, when Megan and Jonathan decided to grub up the huckleberries and bull pines and make a garden out of nothing.

I sometimes wonder if they regret making this dream come true, since they seem to spend half of the year weeding, making compost tea, and watering and the other half canning, preserving, and getting ready for next year.

Jonathan spent his actual birthday climbing a mountain:

Which seems only fitting for an adventurous guy who is never happier than when he’s rescuing someone who fell off a cliff, or fighting wildfires, or scuba diving in or sailing down the coast of the notoriously dangerous Pacific. When he got back from his birthday adventure, he was greeted by a birthday dinner of spaghetti squash and sauce made of tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, and basil, all grown in the garden and served on the Waltons-sized picnic table he built a couple of years ago, now ensconced under the canopy Rob picked up at the mall**.

Erica made fried green tomatoes on the outside burner – dinner theater! She also made a fantastic southern Italian polenta cake with ginger-peach jam, dried figs, and quince steeped brandy. She grew all the fruit, so our home grown theme continued.

Our friend Carrie joined us, with her daughter Miranda, who is now 13. It had been a couple of years since Carrie and Miranda made it up here to visit from the Bay Area, and Miranda has become the cat whisperer. She was actually able to pet Jonathan’s skittish, semi-feral mini cat Scout outside, a nearly unheard of feat. While Miranda was charming Scout, we reminisced about how Carrie had come to my apartment in San Francisco for Thanksgiving dinner just weeks before Miranda was born and other happy memories from long ago.

The sun set in a spectacular fashion, the sky suffused with enough pink and lavender to gladden a Suzy’s heart (or make a Garden Party cocktail) above the dark trees. The technicolor gave way to glorious black and white, in the form of cloudless, ink black sky and brilliant stars. The city dwellers were awed by the light show, which reminded me to maybe not take it quite so much for granted.

As Jessica escorted Fair Suzy to her car, I realized that I had failed to take a single photo that evening. I was having too much fun eating and talking and being with my friends and family. I read somewhere that you make better memories if you don’t take pictures, because you’re living it instead of documenting it. I don’t know if it’s true, but I do know that it was a wonderful, memorable evening.

Here’s to the next half century!

*He is now my older brother. 🙂