Suzy Says

Faithful readers may recall that Erica and Jessica left not just the county, but the country right after Thanksgiving, something for which I was not thankful. They left most of their belongings in storage in the county seat, so after a few months of camping in their rented accommodations abroad, they made a flying trip back to pick up their stuff and drive it back to their new home.

And I do mean flying. They flew in one evening, met us for dinner the next, and took off the very next day. I felt lucky that they found time to have dinner with Megan, some other friends, and me before they vanished.

Both Erica and Jessica are very happy in their new milieu, though they were a bit taken aback by the snow and cold, also the weight of loonies and toonies and how quickly they accumulate. When I lived in Canada, my coping mechanism was to decant them into a bowl and cash them in for dinner or a present when there was about $100.

Jessica’s friends, who are all home-schooled just as she was, pumped her relentlessly for information about going a real school and hanging out in malls and what that’s like. I think Jessica had fun explaining it all and talking about her new life. I have to admit I took a stealth photo of her rather than embarrassing her by asking in front of her friends. As you can see, she was rapt in conversation:

We had dinner at the fake Libby’s. The real Libby’s closed a couple of years ago, taking its fabulous al pastor with it. I was happy for Libby that she could take a well-deserved retirement, but not happy to live an al pastor-free life for the foreseeable future. The people at the fake Libby’s bought the real Libby’s recipes. It was good, but it lacked the depth and magic. Erica sneakily paid the bill before Megan and I could pay for Erica and Jessica’s dinners.

It was wonderful to see them, but so hard to say goodbye. It feels so final now. No more Halloweens, Thanksgivings, or Junapalooza. No more Jessica reading “Red Ranger Came Calling” with Jonathan at Christmas. Jessica turns 16 in a couple of weeks (“Every April 15”) and we’ll miss that and all her growing up.

A YEAR AGO: A look around.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A high school play production of the beloved classic film “The Breakfast Club”.

TEN YEARS AGO: Thinking of moving from Oaktown. Which I did, eventually. And I have never looked back.

There’s nothing like a trip to the salon to cheer a girl up, even when it’s rainy and gloomy.

But nothing could be less gloomy than Angelika’s little salon in the big woods:

where it was warm, cozy, and light, with lavender scenting the air and towels warming on the heater. We spent a few hours together while she highlighted my hair. It was long overdue – consulting her bible, Angelika found that I had highlights done almost exactly a year ago to the day. So this must be the time of year that I feel like I need a little brightening up.

It was great to relax and talk. I am lucky to have a stylist who is also a good friend, and one who makes me feel happy inside and out.

A few days later, I met my friend Richard at Heritage House. Its claim to fame is being the location of the movie Same Time Next Year, starting Alan Alda at the time when he was a huge star in MASH*. It is a pretty place:

With beautiful views:

This time of year, you can sit outside and enjoy the view:

I was less than happy to discover that the happy hour wine cost was $12 a glass. I got one anyway, and when Richard joined me, he wisely ordered a gin and tonic for a much more modest $6. At our usual haunt, wine is $5 a glass during happy hour and they provide free nibbles as well. I have a feeling we will be returning to our regularly scheduled venue after this.

It was good to catch up with Richard. We used to work together at the jobette, and he basically travels for a living, being their sales director. He had just come back from a trip to Copenhagen, which he loved. He said that the average person there is doing well economically, not struggling to pay their basic living expenses like they are here. Healthcare and education, even university, is free. They get a minimum of 5 weeks paid vacation a year, fathers get 4 months paid paternity leave and mothers 9 months maternity leave. It sounds like a very civilized place.

Richard drove off in his Tesla and went one way while Wednesday and I went the other, home to my kitties, who are always happy to see me.

*I had a crush on him then. I still enjoy re-watching the show and I still find him crushworthy.

A YEAR AGO: Nearing the end of the mattress saga.

FIVE YEARS AGO: We lost a local hero. Ricky, you are still remembered and loved.

TEN YEARS AGO: Street – well, BART – style.

Dad’s birthday dawned sunny and beautiful. He probably would have approved that I spent the morning doing some cooking for the week: my friend Alice’s recipe for dak dori tang (spicy braised chicken) and Ottolenghi’s recipe for mejadra. It was Suzy’s international kitchen!

Megan and Rob hosted the party this year. I arrived to find that the appetizers were ready:

set by a photo we call “American Dad”:

It shows Dad in Cloverdale, wearing Jonathan’s straw hat and holding a slushy from the no longer extant Foster Freeze. He’s standing next to Jonathan’s old car, Grandma. Among Grandma’s eccentricities was the need to operate the windshield wipers by hand, using a string. I love that photo.

The appetizer was baguette with melted cheese and peppers my siblings grew and roasted over mesquite. It was delicious.

We headed to the greenhouse to snip some salad for dinner:

I got some extra to take home. The latest resident of the greenhouse is a Meyer lemon tree, which is something of an experiment. We are hoping it will work, since it would be great to have our own lemons.

Walking back to Megan’s place through the garden, I really felt like the seasons had changed from winter to spring. The plum tree agreed:

I know we are still slated to get more rain, but I think winter has lost its grip on us for now.

Back at Megan’s place, we toasted Dad with the cider we made last fall: “The old man wasn’t so bad!” Megan made spaghetti carbonara to go with the salad, and dessert was two sorbets: one made of wild blackberries and the other from raspberries my siblings grew. They were intense and delicious. After dinner, we watched Alfred Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train, this time catching the Master’s cameo and enjoying the film very much.

I think Dad would have approved of his party.

A YEAR AGO: Celebrating Dad’s birthday.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A boy and his dog.

TEN YEARS AGO: Remembering a vintage birthday.

The dreaded spring time change hit me with a vengeance this year. Surveying my calendar, I realized that the day after Black Monday included a 12 hour work day and a dental appointment. Why not pack all the bad stuff into one day?

The appointment was with a new dentist. My former dentist retired rather suddenly, sending me a $740 bill as a farewell gift. It was not itemized, and since I hadn’t been there since September or October, I was mystified as well as horrified. I called and asked for an itemization, which I received, and for my records to be sent to the new dentist, which they were not. They only sent my most recent x-rays.

The giant bill included some things that were rejected by the insurance company, and my boss is going to try to get them to see reason. Stay tuned…

In the meantime, I went to meet the new dentist, filled with fear that he’d find something (or somethings) wrong and worried about the tooth that was so expensively and wretchedly root canaled in the fall. Former Dentist had put a temporary filling on it which is supposed to last a year. New Dentist said he normally does a permanent cap within six weeks of a root canal. Fortunately, everything looks OK in there and I am scheduled to have the permanent cap done in early April. Unfortunately, it is scheduled to take an hour and a half, just like the root canal, so I’m pre=worrying, despite a prescription for Valium to soften the blow. I should get another one to go with the bill.

I also had a library meeting on Friday, so it was a long and busy week for a girl who lost an hour of beauty sleep the night before it all started. I was under the impression that Californians had voted to stop the madness of daylight saving time in the last election, but apparently we only voted that someone could introduce the necessary legislation that could then be ratified by Congress or whoever runs these things, which really would stop it. I don’t know which one they would decide on as the permanent time, but I just wish they’d pick one and go with it.

A YEAR AGO: The beginning of the mattress débâcle. That lesson is learned. Still love the comforter set.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Oh, that Clyde! So naughty, and yet so cute!

TEN YEARS AGO: Some valuable lessons learned from film noir. Don’t pick up a crazed killer. Or let one give you a ride.

Megan and I took advantage of a break in the weather for a trip to the Village. Our first stop was to see if our favorite wood-fired, brick oven pizzas were available in the winter. The scent greeting us as we made our way there suggested that they were:

They are indeed open year-round, which was good to know. The garden was still beautiful, even in the depths of winter, as was the pizza:

With dinner squared away before noon, we headed for the Kelley House to see a special exhibit on vintage fashion. Did you know that wedding gowns were not always white? This one dates from 1860s:

We were entranced by the beautiful gowns on display:

Here are some details:

There’s even an M for Megan:

It’s hard to imagine my tomboy sister in one of these getups, but you’d have to be a pretty tough women to survive living here in the Victorian era. Don’t forget there was no Golden Gate Bridge or paved roads, so to get here from San Francisco involved taking a ferry across the Bay and then stagecoach or carriage. Or you could do the whole thing by water and have to take a Victorian style zipline to the rocky Mendocino shore:

In fact, Megan noticed that there was a framed, matted version of a similar photo for sale for a mere $40. She was unable to resist, and I think it was a very good purchase. You can still see the remains of the zipline on the headlands to this day.

Children wore exquisite little gowns as well:

I think this elegant black velvet cocktail dress from the 1940s could be worn now:

Some fashion is timeless. Fortunately, corsets and crinoline are not!

We were fascinated by a film in which a modern-day girl got dressed in 1860s and 1880s style, all by herself. To be fair, she already had foundation garments on, but it still didn’t take as long as we thought it would, even with buttoning boots and petticoats and lacing her own corset. She even showed us how a lady relieved herself in the days when skirts and undergarments weighed several pounds. The secret is the open pantaloons and facing the wall, the opposite of the way modern women do. The Victorian way allowed bustles and crinolines to billow out of the way of the business at hand.

It was fun to take a look at the past, but I’m glad that I live in the present!

A YEAR AGO: It was still winter-y, but the ballet was fabulous.

FIVE YEARS AGO: This and that, things and stuff.

TEN YEARS AGO: From being robbed at the DMV to seeing priceless jewels. Just another day in Oaktown.

It was dark and stormy last week. We got about 10 inches of rain in a week, 6 of it over the course of two or three days. I later learned that this unenjoyable weather is called an “atmospheric river”. I think this is the California version of the polar vortex that afflicts the east coast in the winter. Also that the Groundhog had no idea what he was talking about.

The ocean was brown from the churned up rivers emptying into it, the road to Civilization was under 14 feet of water, and there was widespread flooding in the inland parts of the county. Even the schools were closed. It seemed like a good time to spend the night in town and check out an inn that recently opened overlooking the harbor.

I was disheartened to receive an LED lantern upon check in, since this meant that they either had no generator or only had one to power their office, as I experienced a few years ago when I stayed in town on a stormy night, only to be kept awake by a generator blasting all night that did not do anything for me. I could have had that experience at home for free, since it was back in the days when Mark was still here and started up his generator the second the power went out, possibly before calling PG&E to notify them of the outage.

Even though it was raining sideways, I dared to hope that the power wouldn’t go out. The room was quite lovely:

overlooking the busy harbor, where I could watch the boats go in and out and hear the characteristic sounds of sea lions and fog horns, which always remind me of San Francisco.

There was a sitting area overlooking the little balcony and harbor, complete with a gas fireplace:

And a giant tub with the same view:

It was thoughtfully provided with a hand shower, the thickest towels I have ever seen, and a comfortable, warm robe with a towel lining.

The inn has a restaurant on site, and I thought it would be a good idea to have dinner there and just walk back to my room. It turned out that this was not the best idea I ever had, and not (just) because I walked there and back in the driving rain and was soaked (though that didn’t help, either).

The restaurant is very pretty, and I later learned that a friend of mine had collaborated with the architect to create the restaurant and bar area. My table overlooked the river, and I could see there was outside seating for when the atmospheric river wasn’t soaking everything in sight. It would be a nice view.

Despite the fact that there were maybe four other people in the restaurant, it took 20 minutes before the pretty hostess took pity on me and asked if I’d like to order a drink. I ordered some wine, which arrived quickly, and then I waited some more. Finally the server arrived and asked if I was ready to order. I asked her what the specials were, which may be a first in restaurant history. I placed the order and had yet another long wait.

When it eventually arrived, the sole Meunière looked very nice:

But there was no sign of the crab it allegedly contained, not to mention the Meyer lemon reduction. It was bland, disappointing, and very expensive. A friend later pointed out that hotel food is often this way, and I will keep that in mind going forward.

On the (literally) brighter side, the power stayed on, and I was able to enjoy some wine by the fire, watching the harbor lights and listening to music. In the morning, I headed to the ever-awesome Eggheads for eggs Benedict, starring the world’s best Champagne Hollandaise sauce. Since it was a winter Wednesday, there was no line and a booth was available. The server was just a delight, and though much younger than the server at the hotel restaurant, she could have taught her a thing or two about good service. And the food was as wonderful as always. On the whole, it was a nice break.

A YEAR AGO: A look at Rob’s amazing artwork.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Angelika worked her magic. I am due to see her this coming weekend, too!