Suzy Says

I am pleased to announce there is a new member of the family. Meet Dodge!

A stray cat followed my coworker Susan* home from the Dodge dealership. He was so friendly that he chased after her like a dog, and she eventually picked up and carried him for a couple of blocks to her house. She couldn’t keep him, so she took him to the shelter.

At the shelter, they found that he had no microchip. He was skinny and starved, and had lost a lot of fur due to fleas and a violent, Audrey-style flea allergy, but was otherwise OK. They guessed he was about two years old.

I called them to let them know I was interested in meeting him. They told me that they had found his owner. I said I was glad for him, which I was, though I was also a little disappointed. I told myself that it wasn’t meant to be.

The shelter called back not 15 minutes later to tell me that they made a mistake and he was still available. I went to meet him, and after much debating with myself, I decided to adopt him. Mostly I was concerned about making eight year old Clyde and eleven year old imperious Audrey upset. Also, and I know this sounds a little crazy, it was like admitting that my adored Roscoe was really, truly gone. Putting out Roscoe’s old dish made me burst into tears unexpectedly.

While I was having my little meltdown, Dodge was hiding somewhere in the studio. But he didn’t hide for long. He is the most affectionate and friendly cat I have ever met. He has a way of jumping against you while rubbing against you that I find endearing. Here he is in the studio:

He now likes sleeping between the pillows and hanging out on the bed upstairs.
Audrey looks at him in disdain like she does everyone else. I am hopeful that Dodge and Clyde might be friends and playmates one day. They have touched noses and sniffed each other without hissing or growling. There’s still a long way to go, but I think it will work out in the end.

*There are a lot of us, but I have noticed that Susans tend to be what the French call “a certain age”. We are probably going extinct, since they aren’t making new ones.

A YEAR AGO: The horror of the worst heatwave ever.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Jim and Joel’s beautiful, inspiring wedding.

TEN YEARS AGO: Back from visiting my sister….where I now live.

The old man himself at Point Reyes, New year’s Day, 2000

I spent the morning of the Evil Eighteenth cooking, as I often do. Something about Dad’s birthday and deathday seem to inspire me to cook, wishing he was there with me. We never got in each other’s way in the kitchen, which is a rare gift. I always liked the fact that we knew where everything was in each other’s kitchens, and where to shop for dinner ingredients, whether in London or San Francisco.

That evening, Megan and I met Lu and her daughter at the theater to see “Becky’s New Car”. You may recall that our last outing was a little less than successful due to the rather unpleasant subject matter. I am pleased to report that this play was both funny and delightful, and that the cast was wonderful.

The special drink for this production was an unusual and delicious mixture of pomegranate schnapps, ginger bitters (both new ingredients to me), fresh orange juice, and champagne. We toasted Dad with this delightful confection, saying “The old man wasn’t so bad”. I think Dad would have approved of the way we spent that day and remembered him.

We had toasted the old man the evening before as well.

Megan’s new home arrived earlier than expected, and was moved to its permanent location after camping out on the (fortunately wide and capacious) driveway on the property for about a week. Our brother cobbled together enough electricity to pop out the pop outs and power the lights.

Megan also popped out the champagne – Roederer, no less – that evening when Lu and I arrived to toast her new home as well as the old man. The dogs are already feeling pretty much at home, though the household is in the awkward phase of being between here and there. Star and Stella were happy to flop on the couch:

Dad would be happy about that, too. Maybe we will start to think of this time of year being about happy new beginnings as well as sad endings. As the years go by, I feel less anger and sadness about losing Dad and more happiness that I had such a remarkable father who was also my best friend. The good memories tend to come to mind more than the sad ones. Though I will always miss him, I was lucky to have had him at all.

A YEAR AGO: Enjoying a drink and the view at my favorite seaside bar.

FIVE YEARS AGO: How to make the world’s most expensive peach pie.

Darkness is creeping back again. If it weren’t so foggy in the mornings this week, I would have put the high beams on. I am always glad to see the fog, though this summer, it hasn’t been as cool as I would like even when it is foggy. I can’t remember the last time I slept without the fans on. It’s not that it is exceptionally hot, just that it hasn’t been as cool as usual for the coast and never gets really cold at night the way it used to. Maybe it’s an anomaly and maybe it’s the new normal. Did you ever notice that anytime it’s a “new normal” it’s never good?

Hopefully this Fogust will not give way to a hellacious heat wave the way it did last year.

It’s been a long and dreary week for our heroine. It kicked off with a dental appointment, which is never a good way to start the week. No cavities this time, but unenjoyable nonetheless, especially since they insist on making an appointment for six months later before you leave, so you don’t even get to enjoy what Gilbert and Sullivan called “the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done.” It’s already hanging over you even though it’s next year, and you can’t really feel like you’ve checked it off your ever-expanding to do list.

Dental duty was followed by two long days. One had 4 hours of meetings in its 12 hours, and the other had setting up for and attending a work-related party/reception in its mere 10 hours. I’m not sure which of these was worse, but I do know when I got in the car 11 hours after I had gotten out of it, it all seemed a little too familiar.

Add in looking after my boss with some health issues and a Board meeting at the library and you have a week you are glad to see end.

As everyone who has ever moved knows, part of the whole lengthy and unpleasant process is going through all your stuff, discarding some and packing others. Megan and Rob are in the throes of this right now.

One of the things they no longer have space for is this charming tilt top table:

A friend of mine is a former antiques dealer (among other things; he also managed the households of the president of Princeton University and the American Embassy in Moscow), so I turned to him for help. He identified it as a reproduction of a Federal style of table, probably made in the late 1920s or early 1930s, used for playing cards or for a butler to serve tea in the glory days when one had a butler. He gave me a relatively modest value for it and agreed that the Kelley House Museum, where he volunteers, would likely be interested in taking it.

He connected me with the curator, and we agreed to meet at the Kelley House at 10:00 on Saturday morning. We arrived just about on time, but the Village was bustling with summer visitors, so Megan dropped me and the table off and went to park. I knocked on both the front and back doors, but got no response. We decided to wait with the table on the porch, admiring the view of the ocean, the pond, and the lovely gardens:

The museum opened at 11:00, and Megan asked the staff where we could find the curator. The answer was in the research office, the one door we had not knocked on. The curator emerged, saying “I thought you were sufficiently local to know I’d be in the research office.” Apparently I am below expectations in that regard, and likely many others. It’s probably in the public’s best interests that I no longer work at the local tourism board.

Megan got the tax receipt and we bid farewell to the little table. I hope we will see it again at an exhibit at the Kelley House. It is a lovely little piece, and a nice reminder of a more gracious and gentler time.

We took our insufficiently local selves to the bookstore, where The Great Catsby was taking a nap in the sun in one of the shop’s window seats. He now has a warning label*:

Catsby prefers the public’s adulation to be kept at a distance.

After the bookstore, we picked up some wood-fired pizzas, along with a delightful salad of local Baby Gem lettuce, wild blackberries, croutons, and shards of Parmesan with creamy garlic dressing. It was delicious and I am hoping to reproduce it at home.

Our next antique adventure will be unearthing our grandmother’s collection of Depression glass, currently stored in two blanket chests at Megan’s house. I suspect that it has been there since Nana died, 40 years ago. Stay tuned for the continuing adventures of Megan’s Big Move!

*It reads “Hi! I am a Grumpy Cat. Pet me at your own risk.” Maybe I should get one for my desk.

A YEAR AGO: Adventures in plumbing.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Spending some time with my sister’s beautiful dog Star. And missing the unforgettable Schatzi.

TEN YEARS AGO: Sneaking out of work to see a cool art exhibit.

Every morning now I check the progress of the wildfires on the Cal Fire website. Overall, containment is up, but it seems that the Ranch part of the Mendocino Complex fire keeps losing containment. It’s down to 20% today. Overall, containment is at 46%. Full containment was originally projected for mid August but has been moved to September 1.

Today the air was smoky as well as foggy. Surprisingly, it’s the first time it’s been smoky since the wildfires began in late July. The forecast calls for a shift in the wind tomorrow to clear out the smoke. The Mendocino Complex is now the largest wildfire in recorded California history. My heart aches for our inland neighbors, going through this yet again after just a few short months.

So far, we are safe here on the coast. We are all working together to get Megan and Rob ready to move – next Saturday! Even though their current home is on the small side, there are many things that will not fit in their new abode and are being rehomed. One of these was a rather battered dresser which had been Megan’s since she was a kid:

It was worse enough for wear that she decided to give it away. I listed it on the local message boards and it was snapped up in about an hour by a guy who lived right down the Ridge. When he came to pick it up, he told me that he had helped James to bend the redwood to make my house’s distinctive shape.

Despite the diminutive size of Megan’s house, there seems to be a lot of stuff be sorted and disposed of. That’s what happens when you live in one place for 20 years. Megan observed that this is the only house she has lived in as an adult. She went from living with me during high school to living on a boat at Pier 39 to living in this house.

This is also the last of our homes where our parents spent any time. Dad visited there often, including the time he had a stroke between Megan’s house and what was then Jonathan’s house. He recovered, but died nine months later in London of medical malpractice. Megan’s house is where our mother spent the last few years of her courageous battle against breast cancer. We celebrated many Thanksgivings and Christmases there. When Megan closes that narrow front door for the last time, she will be closing the door on a long chapter of her life and many memories.

A YEAR AGO: A visit from our friend Carrie and a passel of quite excellent teens. They are coming back for Labor Day weekend!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Clyde’s encounter with the slobber monster. He seems to have avoided it ever since, and it had better stay that way. The fur where the injury was is notably white against his black fur.

TEN YEARS AGO: The walk in pharmacy and other Oaktown delights. I do miss Ray the Safeway guy, though.

Megan is moving! And she’s moving soon.

Our good friends and my siblings’ land partners, Dave and Jennifer, found a fabulous mobile home for sale down in the Bay Area, where Dave works during the week. They went to check it out with Megan and Rob one weekend and everyone liked what they saw. Dave, the expert negotiator, got a great deal on it which included delivery all the way to Hooterville.

However, delivery is slated for the 17th anniversary of Dad’s untimely death on August 18. This short time frame kicked preparations into high gear as Megan and Rob divest their tiny house of 20 years’ worth of things and stuff. Don’t forget that every time Rob went to the dump, he acquired a project or two, so that’s a lot of stuff over two decades. It is surprising how much stuff one little 450 square foot house can contain. Also how much you can get of rid of and still have more stuff to deal with. I think I noticed this same unlovely phenomenon when I escaped from Oakhampton several years ago.

It will all be worth it, though, since the new place is lovely. Here’s the living room:

And a peek at the kitchen:

Sadly, the kitchen is just about as low on counter space as their current home, but they are used to that and Rob has some clever ideas of how to work around it.

The bedroom has closets! I have heard of these mythical things, but my sister and brother-in-law will actually have one:

The bathroom even has a tub:

They may find they have a semi-permanent guest who lounges in their bathtub and luxuriates in the central heat and air conditioning. Air conditioning! My dream come true!

A YEAR AGO: Coming home to a couple of surprises.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A lovely day in the Village.

TEN YEARS AGO: Remembering wonderful summers in Maine. Those were the days!