Suzy Says

The kitties’ birthdays are coming up. They go in inverse age order: Dodge on May 11, Clyde on June 8, and Audrey on July 2. Dodge will be around 6*, Clyde is turning 12, and Audrey is turning 15.

I would say that Dodge has become his ultimate self. His latest enthusiasm is going outside, which is only allowed during daylight hours. Oddly, he started his outdoor fanaticism when it was still raining and chilly, though this did not deter him. Like the late, lamented Roscoe, he loves being toweled off, purring loudly.

He has retained his adorable habit of jumping up while simultaneously rubbing up against my legs, as well as his sunny attitude. He is a happy ray of sunshine, and everything he does, he does 150%. It’s the Dodge way. He plays outside for hours, and will only come in when he’s ready, not a second before. He is his own man. Once he’s in for the night, he curls up and sleeps happily, either on a dining room chair in front of the heater, or between the pillows on the bed. He sleeps with the same enthusiasm with which he does everything. And though he may be from the mean streets of Fort Bragg, he will only eat treats from the table, like a gentleman. He always hops up on the table for his treats, even if he was relaxing on the heater just moments before.

He is quite the character. I’m so glad he decided to follow my colleague home that summer day.

Clyde would second that emotion. Dodge wasted no time in winning Clyde over, after taking one look at him and deciding that he was the coolest. Now Clyde seems to think that Dodge is the coolest, copying him in sleeping near the heater on the dining room chairs, sleeping in the coveted between the pillows spot when Dodge isn’t there, and using the opportunity of my being in the bathroom to rub up against me and ask for pets. You may not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but you can teach an old cat new tricks.

They enjoy playing together inside and out, sometimes just surveying their domain:

They often sleep together and give each other baths, which is so cute to see. Dodge has definitely made Clyde a happier and more relaxed cat. I know he still misses Roscoe, but Dodge’s happy, loving friendship has gone a long way toward making Clyde feel more secure and happy, and that makes me happy, too.

Audrey, on the other hand, includes the boys in her general disdain for everyone and everything. Being an old lady has not made her sweeter or kinder. She retains her resting bitchface and her svelte figure, and she still sits atop Mount Crumpet (aka the bathroom windowsill) hating the Whos (aka the boys). She will swat and growl if they dare to approach her majesty.

Yet she generally sits on me when I read in bed at night, and when I sit in bed on the weekends answering my fan mail and working on Wordle, she sits beside me, purring loudly. So she’s not all grump, all the time. Just most of it.

Here she is, getting her beauty sleep and dreaming of destruction:

She has also developed an interest in going outside now that spring is here, though she insists on going out of the front door, as befits an empress of her stature.

It’s so fun to see how the cats interact and their patterns of behavior. I feel lucky to share my life with them.

*The shelter guessed Dodge’s age when he was admitted there, and I gave him my American grandfather’s birthday, because they are so much alike and HoHo loved cats. Also Dodge just seems like a spring kitty.

A YEAR AGO: Remembering a long-ago trip to Amsterdam.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The pleasures of a day off.

TEN YEARS AGO: A fun sister day.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: I managed to avoid jury duty, though my computer was under the weather.

I was glad to be back in Hooterville, where I was enthusiastically greeted by the cats. The thrill of me wore off pretty quickly, though, and was almost immediately replaced by the wish to go outside and play, which they did.

I stayed inside, to unpack my things and stuff before tackling the litter box and feeding and watering the cats. The litter box looked like the Andes after my two day absence.

Once everything was restored to order, I headed over to the family estate to say hi to Megan and Rob (Jonathan was off on an adventure). Things are rocking and rolling over there. There are new fruit trees, including a second cherry tree now sharing the net palace with the original cherry tree:

You can see the original cherry tree in the background here, behind the rows of raspberries:

Strawberries are on the way:

It was a beautiful day to wander around the growing orchard:

admiring the blossoms on the trees:

Megan picked a bouquet for me of my favorite lilacs and the sweet peas we grow every year for Dad. These are called April in Paris:

April in Hooterville is pretty good, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Some bad habits.

TEN YEARS AGO: The office cat at the jobette.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The eternal debate of time vs. money.

My blog turns 21 today! I guess that should mean it’s an adult now, ready to do responsible things, but like its author, I think my blog will never grow up. But at least we have a reason to celebrate!

A YEAR AGO Happy 20th!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Sweet 16.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Then we were six.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: My blog’s very first birthday. Little did I suspect I’d still be doing this 20 years later.

It had been 10 years since I last visited Swan Oyster Depot, which is about 10 years too long. The day after the memorable Lindsey Buckingham concert, I made my way to this culinary Mecca, prepared for the inevitable line and the inevitable wait.

On my walk down Polk Street, I noticed that Polkers, Le Petit Robert, the French lingerie store, and the Big Apple grocery store were all gone. Russian Hill Books, the Jug Shop, and Molte Cose survive, though they moved down the street. Thankfully, Victor’s Pizza and Bob’s Doughnuts remain open and in situ.

I noticed that many restaurants now have a sort of lean-to arrangement in front of their establishments, three-sided and open to the sidewalk, with roofs, housing tables and chairs and taking up scarce and valuable parking spaces on the street. Even when I lived there, long ago, it was difficult-to-impossible to find street parking in my neighborhood, even with a permit, which is why I ended up selling my beautiful 1966 Mustang convertible, Josephine.

Swan’s also has one of these serving sheds, but it was unpopular. Everyone, after the long wait in line, wants to have the full experience of being wedged into one of the few seats at the counter, where the brothers and cousins perform their ballet of serving and preparing the freshest seafood in town without missing a beat (or bumping into each other):

They now have classic rock playing outside to amuse the waiting customers, a new addition for me. They still serve wine or beer to those who wait, and they still only take cash.

I finally got my coveted seat, and learned that they had not gotten any crab that day. Perhaps just as well, given the price:

I settled on shrimp cocktail instead:

and settled in on my stool to enjoy the shrimp, the fresh, crusty sourdough bread, and watching the family effortlessly slice smoked salmon and bread and open oysters. Conversations swirled around me, people walked past on the street, and I was filled with memories. The City may change around them, but Swan’s remains the same, timeless.

A YEAR AGO Getting brighter hair and a brighter outlook.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Celebrating Jessica’s birthday. Cannot believe she is 19 now, in 2022. How did this happen?

TEN YEARS AGO: Jessica had a great 9th birthday.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Some puppy cuteness for you!

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Thoughts on the anniversary of the Great Quake.

I decanted the car contents into the motel room, and then ordered my very first Uber to take me to the Palace of Fine Arts Theater. Uber is magic. It showed up in about two minutes, swept me to my destination, and went away. It’s the next best thing to having a chauffeur at my beck and call. What’s not to love?

The theater looked beautiful in the evening light:

The line was long, and although vaccines were supposedly required, no one checked vaccine cards. They did, however, use one of those airport style wands on everyone and looked in everyone’s handbags, so go figure. I found it a little unnerving to be in the crowd, and claustrophobic to be in the middle of the theater, though the seats were great and so was the view of the star, Lindsey Buckingham:

He is a local (or at least local-ish, hailing from nearby Palo Alto, home of Stanford University), so it was a hometown crowd welcoming him home with great enthusiasm. The evening felt very intimate, since his band was so small and part of the show was just Lindsey and his guitar. He is so charming and unaffected, and his voice has not diminished at all over the years. I was happy that he played some songs from his new album, which I have been listening to and enjoying recently. It was a really special evening.

A YEAR AGO: Some animal updates.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Spring was pretty wintery.

TEN YEARS AGO: A busy day in the City.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: What I missed.

I headed to San Francisco for the first time in a decade.

It was a beautiful drive through wine country. It’s beautiful any time of year, but it was lovely to see the little lambs frolicking in the green fields, the vines leafing out, and the drifts of wildflowers everywhere.

I was lucky with traffic, and it wasn’t long until the dreaming spires of San Francisco appeared:

Onto the Bridge:

And past the City and County of San Francisco sign:

I don’t know why, but I have always loved that sign. When I lived there, it always made me happy to see it.

I do not like the new and unimproved tunnel entrance to San Francisco:

It’s ugly, and it cuts off the view. Fortunately, it’s relatively short, so it wasn’t long until I emerged into the traffic on Lombard Street, heading for my usual modest motel, just around the corner from my fabulously expensive former abode. I was taken aback by the new building that had replaced the vacant lot on Van Ness and Union, and also by the red bus lane now running down the middle of Van Ness.

A lot can happen in a decade.

A YEAR AGO: A mystery. This Miss Marple was on the case.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A delightful family dinner.

TEN YEARS AGO: Setting off for San Francisco. Little did I knwo it would be another 10 years before I returned!

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: My beautiful Rita. I still miss her.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Sometimes my job included a trip to Symphony Hall.

Mom

Today is my mother’s 90th birthday.

I think it’s still your birthday, even if you aren’t here to celebrate it. Looking back over these pages, I see that Mom was not here to see most of my entries about her birthday, since she died after a mere 73 years on the planet, after a long and courageous battle against breast cancer.

She was tough, and she was a survivor. Life dealt her a pretty rough hand from the get go. Her birth mother abandoned her on the orphanage steps as a newborn. She suffered from mental health issues her entire life and never got it under control. I think she had serious post-partum after my sister Megan was born. She spent the whole summer in bed, which at the time (I was 9 years old), I thought was what happened when you had a baby. Dad left her* after 25 or so years of marriage, and her second husband, a complete jerk who was about half her age, also left her after he spent all her money. She ended up on welfare, living in a trailer on my sister’s property.

I see a pattern of abandonment in her life which must have been really painful for her. I wonder if she had been born later if there would be better psych drugs and treatment available to her to make her life happier and healthier. Maybe she shouldn’t have had children or gotten married. Maybe she should have had more freedom in her life and her life choices.

We always had a complicated relationship. I don’t think she was that crazy about me, and I am OK with that. Like John always says, if you have one good parent, you’ll be OK. Now that I’m older, I understand that this was about her, not me. She always seemed kind of distant to me. If she was awake when we went to school, she was having black coffee and a cigarette. It was never suggested that she drive us to school or even to the school bus stop, a good half mile away, a long walk in the snow, when we would follow the path we had made the day before. Dad did the cooking, read to us, and took us grocery shopping and to the library on Saturdays. Mom was kind of a ghost in our house.

I wish she had experienced more joy in her life. I wish her death had not been so long and painful and terrible. I’m glad I took care of her at the end and did everything I could do for her. I do love her, and I do remember her smile, her love of music and appreciation for beauty. We share our green eyes. There are good memories, too.

Happy birthday, Mom. I wish you were here to celebrate with us.

*Fun, Jerry Springer style fact: he left my mother for my boyfriend’s mother. Extra credit: boyfriend’s mother is still alive and well at 90 years of age and we are good friends. We email each other often.

A YEAR AGO: My brother Jonathan’s road trip adventure.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Mom’s 85th birthday.

TEN YEARS AGO: Mom’s 80th birthday.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: I still hate the heat. Pretty sure I always will.