Suzy Says

I finally found a planter I liked for the Clyde Memorial Plant. It’s even shaped like he was:

The marker with his name on it is made of fused glass. I liked it so much that I ordered another one the same day I received the first one:

I thought it would look nice with the daffodils on his resting place. If you’d like to buy one for your garden – they have lots of different designs, all weather-resistant fused glass, you can buy it here.

I check on Clyde whenever I go over to the property, and he is safe and peaceful under the chinquapin tree. I still miss him more than I can say. I have dreamed about him several times since I lost him. Every time, I wake up wishing he were here.

Megan bought some moss rose seeds, and gave me some for the Clyde planter. I am dubious about my ability to grow anything from seed, but I have planted them and am hoping they will sprout and bloom. My Plan B is to get some lavender from the family estate and plant that instead. So stay tuned on my gardening adventures.

The Mystery Cat is still hanging around. She visits most days, and remains hungry. I feed her twice a day. I am beginning to think she really is a stray. If she had a home, she wouldn’t be so hungry.

I still don’t know if Mystery Cat is a boy or a girl, but I’m saying “she” for convenience here. The he/she thing is tiresome.

I borrowed a Hav-A-Hart trap from my siblings, but couldn’t figure it out, and it seemed so narrow. I couldn’t believe that the fluffy cat would want to squeeze in there after weeks of eating on my (relatively) spacious side porch.

Here she is with Dodge on the side porch:

She does wander in and out of the sliding glass doors if I leave them open, and I have seen her hanging out on both the side and back porches. I figure the least I can do is feed a cat in need. I don’t know what will happen in the long run. In the meantime, she brightens my day, and Dodge’s, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Learning about female lighthouse keepers. At a lighthouse!

TEN YEARS AGO: My cats drove their babysitter crazy.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Thinking about moving. Or not. Spoiler alert: I would escape Oaktown for good less than six months later.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A sunny Sunday in San Francisco.

My blog turns 23 today!

Although that sounds youthful (especially to someone in her 60s), in blog world and internet world and the Google, it’s positively ancient. I think technology years are even more extreme than dog years. Maybe it’s more like one blog year equals one decade. So that would make this collection of silly, shallow musings a valuable antique.

Or maybe just obsolete.

When I first started writing my blog, encouraged by my fabulous friend Candi, who said, “You have things to say and you need a place to say them,” I wrote nearly every day. I felt like I was supposed to do that, for some reason. Now, I write maybe once a week.

My life is probably much less interesting to the average reader than it was 20+ years ago, when I lived in San Francisco in a beautiful apartment in beautiful Pacific Heights, worked in the Financial District, drove a 1966 Mustang, and was married to a really nice guy. Now, I live in a teeny town about 150 miles north of San Francisco, in a water tower in the redwoods, drive a 2013 Mazda, and am no longer married, nor will I ever be again if I have anything to say about it.

Though my life may be less interesting to others, I am happy living in the same town as my siblings, beside the sea and in the redwoods. I love the natural beauty around me and the clean air. I love my family, friends and remaining cats. I love how this little community looks out for each other. I would never willingly move.

When I first started this blog, I was such a city girl. I would never have imagined living in the country, or being so happy living in the country. You never know what’s going to happen, and that’s probably a good thing. As time goes on, I have learned to go with the flow and just deal with whatever comes along, always waiting to see what comes next.

Although Monica closed her shop a couple of years ago, she still holds pop-up events now and then. One of them coincided with a time that both Megan and I were available, something that happens all too rarely, given her ever-changing night shifts and my never-ending day shifts.

Monica has recently been partnering with a friend who has access to unique vintage items, which are artfully mixed in with new things. Monica has not lost her touch in arranging things beautifully and creating a welcoming and comfortable space that inspires one to linger:

In the back, she set up a little bar, with infused water and delicious wines from the winery where she now works:

Since Megan was driving, I got to taste the wine, and it was really good. Megan and I are beginning to plot a trip to Monica’s winery and a couple of others inland in the next few weeks, before it gets boiling hot. Stay tuned on that.

I was unable to resist a little turquoise ceramic bird, which is quite at home at my office:

and a little pine-scented candle for home, because you know how I am about scented candles.

We had a wonderful time before heading back to Megan’s place for pizza and GirlTV(TM). It seemed like a long time since we had hung out, and we enjoyed every moment.

A YEAR AGO: A wonderful trip to the Valley.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The horrors of being crowned.

TEN YEARS AGO: A busy and fun weekend.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: An Easter care package.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Judging the rather degenerate contents of my recycling bin.

So…

This little guy or girl (while I am excellent at detecting the actual sex of humans, despite their outward appearance, I am notoriously bad at determining the sex of cats, where I am consistently incorrect) just appeared one day recently.

In all the years I have lived in Hooterville, I have never had a stray cat show up at my house. It seems odd that about six weeks after losing Clyde, a cat turned up.

He or she is fluffy and pretty:

and a little shy, though s/he has an endearing habit of rolling around on his/her back, which also suggests a certain lack of fear. Dodge seems to welcome the newcomer. I have seen them sniff each other and touch noses, and Dodge will sit quite near the Mystery Cat:

Dodge clearly misses Clyde, and I think he would welcome a companion. He seems to like the interloper. But I’m not sure I want to take on another cat. It seems too soon after losing Clyde, and I just assumed that Dodge would be my last cat. I don’t want my cats to outlive me. Also, I’m sure my landlord does not want me to adopt this cat. Or any cat, for that matter.

You will not be surprised to learn that I have started to feed the visitor, who is very hungry. I am hoping be able to catch him/her and go to the Humane Society, where I can learn if he or she is microchipped or listed as missing. I have put out notices on the local listserv and Facebook with no response.

So we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, I will keep Mystery Cat supplied with food and water and hope that he or she can stay safe out there.

A YEAR AGO: A mid-week celebration.

FIVE YEARS AGO: An unexpected funeral.

TEN YEARS AGO: The horror of bureaucracy.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: The horrors of house hunting. And traffic.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: The horrors of maintenance. They never end!