Suzy Says

Clyde is back to his old self again. I’m still in the phase of being delighted by his naughtiness rather than annoyed by it. Oh, look! He’s on the counter! Yay, he’s clawing the couch! It’s so cute that he’s milling around under my feet and meowing while I’m trying to feed him!

I will never know if it was the potassium infusion the vet gave him, or whether he just needed an extra day or two to recover from whatever it was. I will also never know what it was. A bug? Virus? A bad bird or mouse? At least I do know that he is 100% OK according to the tests. And I’m so thankful to see that he’s alert and happy again. My little guy.

Megan is also doing fine. She shook off the flu quickly enough to do four 12 hour night shifts this past week. She woke up on Friday afternoon and we met Monica for drinks that evening (more about this later). On Saturday, she went to swimming lessons in town, then went to Safeway and shopped for Erica, and then brought the shopping to Erica’s house, about an hour and a half’s drive one way.

I couldn’t go, but I sent along some movies for Jessica and also The Munsters, which she loves. Jessica will be in a cast for twelve weeks. Goodbye, summer! We will have to figure out some way to get her around the county fair in the middle of September. I also have to figure out a way to go and visit those girls soon. Erica reminded me that they have been back from Portland for an entire year now and I have yet to go and visit them. Worst. Friend. Ever.

Speaking of which: I ended up giving back the fancier camera. It wasn’t notably better than my old one, so it didn’t make sense to me to keep it. Fortunately no-one was offended. I’m just glad they can get their money back and that their feelings aren’t hurt.

On Friday evening, Megan and I met Monica at the bar of what is rapidly becoming our regular watering hole, the Little River Inn. Here’s the view from our table by the door:

My co-worker turned up with her beautiful family, including her mother’s friend who is an attorney in Nevada. We spoke about the Zimmerman case, and he said that juries can be very unpredictable, and he thought that they might acquit despite the evidence. Unfortunately, he was correct. I was as appalled by this verdict as I was in the trial of Oscar Grant’s killer several years ago. Coincidentally, the movie Fruitvale (named after my former BART stop in Oakland, where the murder took place) was released that very day. I am saddened by the racism and injustice in this country.

Why stop and smell the roses when you can play with them?

You will be glad to hear that everyone is improving. Jessica learned to crutch around pretty quickly – always her way of learning everything – and is in the capable and loving hands of her mother at home. Jonathan is coming up with science experiments for her to do while her slim limb recovers, and I have ordered her a book of paper projects. I think she’ll love that it’s called “The Secret Society of Paper Cuts”.

Megan, of course, was back at work Monday night. She said that bugs that violent rarely last very long, and despite my attempts to dissuade her, she worked on the family garden on Sunday as well as checking in on Clyde twice and reporting to me while I was at work. She was a Montessori teacher before she was an EMT/ambulance driver and has worked in the ER for years now, so she has a really kickass immune system. Still one more night of work for my valiant sis tonight. I don’t know how she does it.

Clyde is almost his old self again. I first noticed he was sick on Saturday night. He looked all bleary-eyed and was non-responsive. In the morning, he walked downstairs in slow motion. He ate and drank as usual, but he seemed out of it and not at all like himself. He went outside and huddled there like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. He wasn’t grooming, not purring, his head and tail were drooping, he slept a lot, walked around slowly, and, perhaps most remarkably, no naughtiness.

By the time Monday rolled around and he was pretty much the same, I called the vet. Dr. Karen is in Italy with her family for three weeks, and Dr. Carl is (not surprisingly) booked for a week. So Dr. Barbara saw Clyde. She gave him a complete blood panel and checked everything out. $200+ later, it seemed that everything was A-OK, except for, you know, the whole sick thing. And his potassium levels were a little bit low. Since he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) eat a banana, Dr. Barbara gave him a subcutaneous infusion of potassium. It was a relief to know that nothing major was wrong, but I still wish I’d gotten a definitive diagnosis.

Clyde was very brave and stoic. I should really stop thinking of him as a baby boy. And? He weighs 11 pounds! I would never have guessed!

Clyde seemed better the next day. and started clawing the couch again. I never thought I’d be happy to see or hear that! Or his jumping on the counter. He finally climbed up on me and purred like he used to, and when I came home yesterday, he was all dirty from playing on the haul road, which was another good sign that he was getting back to normal.

Interestingly, Audrey stayed near him while he was sick, and Roscoe sniffed him thoroughly every time he saw Clyde. They also exchanged what I think of as little kisses, more than usual. Today they were playing in the sunlight, so I’m hoping everything is back to normal.

Independence Day evening finally freed us from the death grip of the blasting (and blasted) heat. The weather has been so strange this year. The driest January and February in recorded history, the strange rain storm in June, followed by the heat tsunami, which concluded with thunder and lightning but no rain. We were all terrified of a repeat of the ’08 wildfires which my brother and his brotherhood fought so valiantly for so long. He told me later that he was half awake all night, listening for the pager, and that in his mind he was already halfway out the door. Fortunately, there was only one small fire inland which was easily contained and that was all.

Independence Day evening also freed Megan of the delightful BBQ we had had at our brother’s place. She was violently sick all night, with her body and bones aching, so it was a flu or virus which a visitor to the ER thoughtfully gave her as a parting gift. Due to the holiday, she didn’t know the locum doctor on staff at the ER, and the staff at the clinic, where my sister is regularly seen, refused to call in a prescription for an anti-emetic. I went to the village and asked the pharmacist if he could recommend anything to help her, but he said there really isn’t any over the counter medication for this. He was visibly shocked that the clinic wouldn’t call in a prescription for a regular patient for something that has no recreational use. I have a feeling that the clinic staff has not heard the last of this.

I stocked up on ginger ale, Jell-O, chicken soup, and other queasiness supplies and dropped them off at Megan’s house. She had lost the juice and water she drank that morning, and couldn’t even think about coffee, even though she is composed of at least 75% caffeine at all times.

I am pleased to report that she is feeling better today, though I wish she didn’t have four 12 hour night shifts waiting for her, starting tomorrow night. That’s pretty tough, even for her.

In other medical news, our beloved Jessica broke her lovely leg a couple of days ago. I don’t have all the details, but apparently she was trying to get out of another kid’s way on the trampoline when he or she fell on Jessica and broke her leg in two places:

Fortunately, she didn’t need pins, just a cast, and she is back home, resting as comfortably as possible in the circumstances. Erica said the doctors were concerned about Jessica’s striking pallor until she assured them it was Jessica’s normal skin tone. 🙂

Seems like my little Clyde is under the weather as well. He looked bleary last night, and this morning, he didn’t run outside as usual. He did eat, but then he just huddled by the (open) door like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. I couldn’t see any wounds, and he didn’t cry out when I picked him up and felt him all over, but he didn’t purr and he just looked blah.

I notified Megan before I left for the jobette, and told her I was keeping him inside (which means Audrey and Roscoe will have to be outside all day), and she said she’d stop by to check on him. Dr. Megan is never too sick to pay a house call. Hopefully he will be feeling better by the time I get home. I hope everyone is!

Well, the rain has finally stopped, leaving 1.6 inches in the rain gauge and battered honeysuckle petals on the ground.

I woke to sun shining in the skylight – on some mornings, the sun seems way too sunny and cheerful when aimed directly at my face – and Audrey growling up a storm. I discovered Orange Cat sitting on my – I mean, Audrey’s – front porch. He took off as she pleaded with me to let her at him. I fed the cats and started coffee before opening the doors to give Orange Cat a head start. He may be twice her size, but little Audrey is the terror of neighborhood dogs and Orange Cat may not know what he’s getting into.

In other wildlife excitement, a hummingbird found its way into the house and couldn’t find its way out again. It was buzzing frantically against the highest window in the house, one I cannot reach even with a ladder. This entire house is too tall for me, including the one kitchen cabinet, having been built by a man who was well over six feet tall.

Fortunately, the hummingbird did the exact same thing that his buddy did last year, and flew over to the very skylight that woke me up this morning. I got a chair and a t-shirt, and, standing on the chair (and shooing an overly curious Clyde away), carefully put it over the buzzing bird. Then I took him out to the balcony, where he zoomed away to both of our reliefs. I even got a chance to admire his iridescent red and green plumage as he flew into the blue sky.

As I write, it’s raining outside. And inside, too – I was temporarily blinded by cold rainwater dripping in my eye on the way to the coffee pot this morning. I can hear the soft plop of rain falling on the wood floor as I type.

Oddly, the kitties are outside. The boys will eventually come in with soaked, spiky fur and muddy paws, and Audrey will somehow be magically dry, slipping through the door with a noise that’s somewhere between a purr and a complaint. They will try the other doors and discover that the weather is equally bad through each of them, and then either sit and stare at the rain as if they can psych it out, or zone out. Megan and I think our pets do that when nothing is fun is happening – they turn off. Not really asleep, just kind of a dial tone.

The rain is very unusual for this time of year. We rarely get rain in the summer months. We hardly got any rain in January and February, the traditional rainy months, so maybe this is all part of climate change. The timing of the unseasonal and unreasonable rain does mean that I missed the Super Moon, a disappointment given my close relationship with the moon. I’m trying to convince myself that I couldn’t have seen it through the trees anyway.

At least we aren’t flooded, like those poor people in Calgary, and I won’t have to water the garden for a couple of days. I hate watering, unsurprising since I dislike anything dull and inconvenient. If someone could invent a hose that didn’t kink, they’d be my personal hero. Especially if it didn’t weigh about 5,000 pounds. My current hoses (one for the front, one for the back, and one on the balcony) are super heavy and not supposed to kink, but you know they do anyway, usually as far away from me as possible so I get to trek over, unkink it, and get sprayed by the end that’s suddenly working again. Until the next kink. I’m pretty sure my hoses’ kink is sadism.

On the bright (sunny?) side, it’s my Friday. We hired a new guy at the jobette who took over working on Saturdays, so my new schedule is Sunday through Tuesday, plus the first Wednesday of each month. We will probably close on Sundays during the winter, so I’ll go back to Monday through Wednesday and have weekends free. Whether it rains or not.

I’m coming to you from the jobette, where things are more annoying than usual. I arrived to find that there is a car show blocking off the street, so I had to park elsewhere and then make my way through the maddening crowds to get to work. Not being able to park at work – usually, because some interloper has stolen one of the three spots allotted to us hard-working non-profit staff – always makes me irate. Maybe I need to learn to meditate or something so I can deal with parking banditos and people who drive below the speed limit.

The car show, for reasons best known to the motorheads in charge, is accompanied by blasting, bass-pounding music that reminds me of the bad old days in Oakland. I already have a headache and despite that, am contemplating an adult beverage when I get home.

Maybe I just need a vacation.

Last Saturday was Roscoe’s and Clyde’s third birthday. After my birthday Suzy Q, I came home and opened a can of tuna for the kitties to celebrate the boys’ birthday. Audrey jumped right in, but the boys sniffed at it, poked at it, and walked away in disgust. Now, that would be my reaction, too, but I never thought a cat would scorn tuna, especially birthday tuna.

Clyde sat hopefully next to the kitchen cabinet where The Treats are stored (Clyde lives for treats), and sure enough, he had trained me well enough to dispense treats to everyone. I put the rejected tuna away and Audrey ate the rest of it over the next few days. I have a year to think of a better birthday dinner for next year.

There seems to be a new cat in town. Last night, Audrey woke me up, growling in her “Get the hell out of here” way in the living room. I came downstairs and put on the outside light by the kitchen (I leave the outside light on by the garbage cans to deter bears and other undesirables. So far it’s worked, or Luna has kept them away). Anyway, Audrey and I both saw a light-colored cat slink into the trees in the direction of the haul road. It took her a little while to de-puff and de-grrr. She takes her territory seriously. I probably don’t have to tell her she’s in charge when I go away – she always is!

This morning, I saw the cat again. It’s a large orange cat with a striped tail, and once again he was heading to the haul road. Clyde was watching carefully from inside the house. I’m assuming it’s a male, since orange cats usually are. My sweet Sophie*:

was the purry exception to that rule.

I stopped by Megan’s place on my way home from work on Wednesday, and in the thirty seconds or so it took me to walk from her place to mine, the power went out. It was very windy, so that was undoubtedly the culprit, but it was surprising this time of year, and I was totally unprepared. It’s a different experience having the power out when it’s light and warm out, but I was still glad when the house started to hum again.

*She was Buddy’s constant companion, right until his last breath. She died of a heart attack on May 24, 2005. John said she looked very peaceful, as if she just went to sleep. She was the sweetest and shyest of our cats. Now only Jack, the adorably naughty Siamese, is left. John still has her and my mother’s cat Twice.

When I got home, it was clear the kitties missed me. Clyde came running up to me meowing, and climbed up my (always) left arm to bury his little head against my neck, purring*. Roscoe slunk into the house and let me pet him before stalking off, and Audrey sat on my lap and went to sleep, relieved of being in charge. All three cats slept on the bed that night.

It’s not only the cats who missed me. Luna came running up, wagging her tail and rolling around on the ground in welcome, and Megan told me that Schatzi patrols my house more than usual when I’m gone. Both Megan and Rob found Schatzi hanging out in my garden, which she doesn’t usually do when I’m here. She prances by several times a day, but she never stays. I think I have honorary pack privileges in her eyes, since I often try to get her to eat and/or take her medicine. It’s nice to know that there’s extra protection while I’m gone, and it’s surprising that Audrey didn’t chase Schazti away.

On Saturday, I had my slightly delayed birthday BBQ (or, as my brother called it, my Suzy Q). My sister spent hours making chicken tikka masala and grill bread, as well as the magic Lu salad. My brother made cherry crumble from scratch – not from their trees, but that day will be here in a couple of years. The peach trees already have teeny, fuzzy peach-ettes on them, and some of the apple trees have mini apples. They gave me a ceramic chef’s knife, which is supposed to be diamond hard and not need sharpening (hopefully I will be able to avoid Calamity Suzy episodes with it). The handle is a lovely, translucent turquoise. Apparently I have yet another present which Erica has. Megan and I are trying to plan a sleepover at Erica’s this month, though it’s been challenging with our crazy schedules.

Back at the jobette, my desk was covered with cards and presents, among them a Hello Kitty magnet set and glittery Hello Kitty socks. Megan took one look and said, “Do they know you, or what?” Nothing like feeling appreciated, is there?

*Also his signature move when I first saw the boys. He did that while Roscoe watched aloofly, such things being beneath his dignity even at two months of age. Sometimes I tell Clyde the story of how he convinced me to take them both home, and I swear he purrs louder.

It’s my birthday eve and I am off to San Francisco to celebrate.

The city seems to be my celebration theme this year, since I also kicked off the new year by going there. This time, I’m attending a seminar on my actual birthday, and then the seminar hosts are grandly taking us all to see the Giants play the Toronto Blue Jays – from a luxury box. How’s that for a birthday party?

I’m hoping that the cats have used up their naughtiness quotas for the week, though this seems unlikely.

Yesterday Clyde went over to Megan’s house to cat burgle – or attempt to cat burgle – Harriet’s and Ramona’s food. The weather has been beautiful lately, so Megan’s doors, like mine, were open. Clyde took this as an invitation to check out what the neighbor cats were eating. Megan’s dogs, however, had a different opinion.

Small, stripy Schatzi, who is the most polite dog ever to all cats, has been chased away from my house by the small, stripy Audrey, who has done the same thing with the much bigger Luna. But let one of my cats turn up on Schatzi’s home turf, and it’s a different story. Megan was drinking coffee on the couch and said it was all over before she realized it was happening.

There was a scuffle in the kitchen, a water bowl went flying, and Star joined Schatzi in the feline eviction with such enthusiasm that they almost knocked Rob over in the driveway. Megan said it was like “Scuffle! Sploosh! %@#@$%^#%$^!” and then all that was left was the dust in the air (and the water on the kitchen floor).

Not to be outdone, Roscoe decided that my last night at home for most of the week and the one right before a four hour drive the next day was the perfect time for him to stay out all night. I saw him slink under the house, so I was pretty sure he was nearby, and tried to vanquish thoughts of how the beautiful June disappeared on my birthday three years ago.

Needless to say, sleep was sporadic, and I kept getting up and calling him. All the outside lights were on to try and keep the marauding monsters at bay, but you know that I am a Worrier. At last, around 4:00 am, Roscoe came calmly out of the darkness and into the house, where he had a snack and then curled up next to me in bed, so I couldn’t be mad at him.

Let’s hope they behave better for Megan!

Megan is so special and her birthday is so special that we celebrated it twice – last week, and on her real birthday, this past Saturday.

In the interim between the two barbecues, my brother had not been idle. He made a Waltons sized picnic table:

I mentioned that seeing him working on the table reminded me of Dad, and he said that this was the kind of carpentry Dad really enjoyed: making something useful and practical. He built bookshelves in every house we ever lived in, and Megan still has – and uses – the coffee table he made when she was a baby.

My brother wasn’t idle on Megan’s birthday, either. A woman fell about 55 feet from a cliff and Jonathan and his fellow firefighters rushed to the rescue. The woman had multiple fractures but was otherwise in pretty decent shape. Jonathan got to package her up and see her helicoptered away, and then got to be helicoptered up himself “at the end of a string”, as he put it, but really in harnesses and other safety gear:

He loves this and says it’s a good day when helicopters are involved.

Megan was busy rescuing me, unbeknownst to me. She came over to my house to pick up barbecue supplies while I was at the jobette, and discovered Clyde with an undead rabbit in the living room. The rabbit clearly wasn’t going to survive, so she dispatched it (I didn’t ask how and I still don’t want to know), putting the poor thing out of its misery and me out of the misery of finding rabbit bits all over the house.

I know it’s their nature, but I can’t help being horrified when the cats show up with birds and bunnies. I find it hard to reconcile the cuddly Clyde I love with the murderous beast he appears to be outside, though perhaps that’s what you get for naming your cat after one of America’s most (in)famous desperadoes.

Meanwhile, back at the birthday BBQ, Jonathan surprised Megan with a Swiss Army knife – equally useful to gardeners in the rugged environs of Hooterville as in the Alps (do the Swiss actually have an army?) and by replanting her grandiflora magnolia tree onto the family property:

Lichen the professional landscape gardener supervised the transplant, and the tree looks pretty happy there.

I gave Megan a dog DNA kit so she can finally find out what Schatzi is, before it’s too late. The Schatz is over 15 years old now, and some days her legs look pretty draggy, but on the whole she is hanging in there in her stoic Schatzi manner.

Erica and Jessica were there, and our friend Carrie from Oakland, as well as couple of Jonathan’s friends from the fire department, and it was so fun to eat at the big picnic table, talking about old memories and making new ones.

Little Miss Scout

It was a Valentine’s Day spay for my brother’s mini-cat, Scout!

As our local Humane Society’s slogan has it, “If you ♥ your cat, have it ♠!”

Since we do ♥ Scout, it was time to do the deed, before some amorous boy cat showed up. It’s unlikely in the depths of winter, but you never know. And you may remember that the precocious Miss Audrey went into heat before she was six months old (and that was delightful*).

Over the past four months since she made her surprising début, Scout has become accustomed to the fabulous lifestyle of sleeping inside and having food and pets on demand. And demand she does. If she wants to be petted, she lets you know. Despite her diminutive size, she has the loudest purr of any cat I have ever known.

At the vet’s, we learned that Scout is at least a year old, so our calculations about her age were pretty close. She weighs 6 pounds, so at this point, I think it’s safe to say that she will remain a cat-ette. I’m guessing that lack of nutrition as a baby (and maybe before that) has stunted her growth. Other than her smallness, though, she is in good shape.

She hid for a day after the surgery, but got over it surprisingly quickly. The other day, my brother saw her playing for the first time, batting a pinecone around in the sunshine. Now that she’s not in constant fear for her life and struggling to find food and water, she has time for things like that.

I’m so glad they found each other.

*A drawback of this look is that it doesn’t show hyperlinks, like on “delightful” and “Scout” in the first paragraph. Maybe I should bold these so you’ll know they’re there…

The worst thing about getting up at 5:30 in the morning – other than, you know, the getting up at 5:30 in the morning thing – is that it takes so long to get light enough to let the boys go out and play. Audrey, as the undisputed winner of “Survivor: Hooterville”, is allowed to go out in the pre-dawn (and post-sunset) darkness, but the boys have to wait until it’s light enough outside that I’m pretty sure the Monsters have clocked out.

Roscoe often gives up and goes back to bed. Roscoe is very clever at finding cozy nests to nap in, and his latest discovery is the pillows on the bed – he sits on top of them. He also sleeps under the covers with me almost every night, especially because it’s been so cold lately.

Clyde, on the other hand, usually perches on the heater until his patience runs out. Then it’s time to start clawing the couch and or rug, with maybe some jumping on the counter action thrown in for variety. He’s always anxious to go out in the morning, even though he’s usually the first one in at night, with an eye to the welcome home treats and dinner.

The other day, one of Mark’s chickens came by to say hello:

It was interesting to see how the cats reacted. Roscoe, in keeping with his ultra cool character, merely observed the intruder:

No point in getting all excited about a chicken.

Clyde, on the other hand, got ready to pounce:

But the chicken eluded him.

Audrey the Enforcer swung into action:

She ran the chicken off her territory and then sat on the porch in the sun, having a victory bath. Earlier that day, she had reared up on her back legs like a little bear and growled and clawed at poor Luna, who ran away in horror. Luna is about 75 pounds’ worth of dog, and Audrey is the size of her head. Go figure.

On Saturday, Jessica woke up later than Audrey: about 7:00, when the sky is thinking about daytime but hasn’t really woken up yet.

I let Audrey out and started coffee before I heard Jessica’s voice wishing me good morning. We took our time waking up, Jessica looking through my jewelry collection and asking the occasional question while I caffeinated and read my fan mail. I am not quick at getting it together in the mornings, and some days I never do*.

Some of Jessica’s observations:

On Audrey: “She’s something of an evil genius, isn’t she?”

I asked Jessica if she thought it was light enough for the boys to go outside, and she said, “They’re cats. They’ll find their way.”

On the Tooth Fairy (Jessica lost two teeth over the holidays): “I think she melts down the old teeth and gets rid of all the icky stuff, and then makes them into new teeth.” A discussion ensued about whether the Fairy had helpers – after all, Santa has elves and provides a similar door to door world-wide service – and why we assume the Fairy is a girl.

We headed to the pool, where swimming lessons had started again. Yay! Once there, we discovered that the Powers that Be had meddled with the schedule, so instead of Jessica’s class starting right after ours, she had an additional 45 minute wait. Sallie, our teacher, is trying to change it back, so I guess we’ll see this Saturday.

Jessica’s response: “My mama always says, ‘Suck it up and deal'”. So she did.

I certainly noticed the three week hiatus as I splashed around. I’d have to say that breathing is still my biggest challenge. I can do the breast stroke perfectly if I don’t have to worry about the breathing part. But I was pretty tired when the class ended. Swimming makes me tired and hungry.

After class, it was time to get dressed and go to work, and the fun was officially over.

Until this Saturday, anyway.

*Today, for example, I forgot to put the gas cap on after I filled the car. I heard it go clunk as I drove away. I put it back on and then noticed a whale spouting in the ocean across the street from the gas station. Later, a visitor told me that she had been tracking this particular pod for years, and that three of the whales in it are tagged.

It’s been hard getting back into the swing (or routine) of things. I took New Year’s week off, and although I worked five days in a row starting on Boxing Day (which doesn’t exist here – as soon as Christmas is over, it’s back to work for you!), I only worked from 11 to 4.

While I was working 11 to 4, I couldn’t help thinking that I could get used to those hours. It was light out for driving, and I could do things like go to the post office and grocery shop before work. Normally the post office is closed both before and after work, and I try to squeeze grocery and drugstore shopping into my half hour lunch break. So it felt kind of luxurious.

Then I had the whole week off the week of New Year’s, and spent most of it in San Francisco. Clearly I also spent most of it sleeping in, because I was kind of shocked by how dark it is at 6:30 am these days. I have to wait until nearly 7:30 to let the boys out, the poor things.

On the other hand, the sun is setting later, so it’s not totally dark on the way home, which is a total bonus.

It’s a Hooterville morning

Well, I’m pretty sure the kitties missed me.

Clyde climbed on me and purred, Audrey sat on my lap, and Roscoe cuddled up to me on the couch on the evening I got home from the city. They all slept with me that night, and in the morning, Audrey, for the first time in her life, did not start campaigning to be let out in the early morning darkness. She actually stayed in bed until I started making coffee, when they all trailed downstairs for breakfast. I could get used to that.

Good thing I didn’t, though, because Audrey was back to her old ways this morning, pounding on the balcony door and scritching her claws against the glass. Not to mention swiping at me with her claw-y paw. On the other hand, they hung out with me most of the afternoon. Something about the way they napped seemed kind of relieved.

This morning, I took down the Christmas decorations, putting them carefully away in boxes for the next 11 months. I vacuumed all the fallen fake tree needles, and I have to admit that the house looks a lot bigger, though a lot sadder, without the holiday decorations. I decided to keep the blue and white porch lights up for now, partly because I need something festive, partly because they match the wind chimes, and partly because I can.

Farewell, 2012

It’s really fun going back and seeing what happened during the year, even if it wasn’t that great a year, like this one. Pay cuts and grand jury summons do not make for a good year. Hopefully the new one will also be improved.

Power outages: 6, including one in October due to someone driving into a power pole at 8:30 am – go figure – and two from a big storm in late November.

Rainfall: 24.20 inches for the season so far, vs. 11 inches this time last year.

Books read: 103 (vs. last year’s 118). Working more means reading less.

Favorites this year were Damien Echols’ astonishing, moving memoir, Life After Death; Gillian Flynn’s clever Gone Girl; William Landay’s surprising Defending Jacob; James M. Cain’s just-discovered final novel The Cocktail Waitress; Jess Walter’s Beautiful Ruins; and the beautifully written and moving Stoner (it’s not what you think).

Trips to San Francisco: 3. I went 4 times in 2011, but one of those was to keep Megan company while Rob endured more spinal surgery, so that doesn’t really count. I’m starting the new year off right by heading to San Francisco tomorrow morning for a few days to meet up with my boss/partner and make some plans for the future. And maybe do some shopping…

As for this year:

January: Hockey, Suzy-style. Little did I realize there wouldn’t be any when October arrived. Or December, for that matter. The case of the ransomed Christmas cards. Ordeal by utility company. Technological difficulties. Why I’m here. Outs & ins. One man’s trash…an unexpected visitor.

February: Cops and a movie! Third power outage of the season. Musing about one grandfather…and another. Coffee break. Finally, a break for Rob! In which our heroine learns that she is just as annoying as everyone else. Maybe more. A surprise wedding.

March: Small town moments. Home repairs. A visit with Jim (and other things). Dad’s 81st birthday. A date with my family. Getting a jump on spring. Suzy the screwup. Surprise present!

April: Megan’s new (to her, anyway) car! Mom’s 80th birthday. Spring planting. A rainy trip to the City. Impersonating a responsible adult. San Francisco storm. A lovely last day in the City. Jessica’s ninth birthday. The arrival of Digit, the Office Cat. Kitty update. A girls’ day out. With my favorite girl.

May: A new (well, to me) couch! My 12th blogaversary, among other things. Festive. A dilemma. License to drive. Scarred for (or by) life. An eclipse, and other things. Rob’s epic trip to see his Mother one last time. My considerably less epic trip to San Francisco. Farewell to Rob’s Mother.

June: A magical evening with the Beach Boys. Fabulous fifty! An unexpected trip. Birthday party. Dilemma solved. Birth of a garden. A wonderful tour of artists’ studios. The arrival of my first (and I hope only) subpoena.

July: A belated and fabulous birthday present. Erica and Jessica are back! My first crown. Sadly, not the Queen kind, though almost as expensive. The looming trip to Detroit makes my humble home look like paradise. The unlovely itinerary. The trip does not go according to plan. Finally in Detroit. Court of horrors. Home at last. Changes at home and at work. Time for an engine check. The neighbors stop by. A snake in the grass. I mean, house.

August: A quick trip to San Francisco. The splendid pool reopens. My 2,000th blog post. And Roscoe’s mystery injury. A lousy day with a better ending. The 11th anniversary of Dad’s death (post won’t link; it’s August 18). A new home for the adorable Digit (who is very happy there). First day at the new office – and more car problems.

September: The money fairy stops by. First foray into retail, and an update on Digit. Two very sad losses for two very dear friends. A fabulous County Fair. A check up for the Schatz. Could, woulda, shoulda – or not. Appreciating the simple things.

October: A small town moment. A very special event. A great evening with family and friends. Swimming lessons resume. Now with Jessica! The 15% pay cut rears its ugly head. So does winter. An eventful day. The Giants win the World Series again! Oh, and we go to the circus.

November: A happy Halloween. The President is, thankfully, re-elected. This campaign was brutal – I can’t believe we have to go through it again in four years. But I won’t think about that now. A beautiful way to remember. An evening at the theatah. A look around the garden. Some new beginnings. Getting ready for Thanksgiving. A wonderful Thanksgiving. Jarrett adopts the World’s Cutest Puppy.

December: Christmas decorations. Church concert. Getting ready for Christmas. A happy holiday. Lighting up the night.

Thanks for joining me for another year of adventures. I wish you all a very happy and healthy new year!

Weather’s comin’

It was a winter wonderland this morning, Northern California style: hard frost on the grass by the road; the Ridge glittering with frost and puddles frozen. The ocean was shades of pewter and lavender, and the wild, white-crested waves told of storms to come. It looks like we will get another series of storms for about a week, which should be finished in time for Christmas Eve. I hope.

Christmas Eve will be Christmas day for us. Megan got the day off from work, but Jonathan is working. He is going to bring his client to dinner and then head back to work. They are both working on Christmas day, and then I am working until the 30th, so it was Christmas Eve or forget it.

It shouldn’t be quite as busy as Thanksgiving. Paul is staying in Florida after his epic trip home in the wake of Superstorm Sandy. Catrin is visiting her sister and family in New Jersey. I’m not sure if Jarrett (and puppy!) or Lichen will be there, but Erica and Jessica will be. Yay!

I’m pretty much ready. We just have stockings instead of presents – mostly – and last weekend, I went through everything to see if we had enough for everyone, and it looks like we do. It might have been the weekend before that when Megan and I met up with Monica and her crew of cheerful volunteers at the historic Little River Inn to make Christmas tree ornaments.

We brought Schatzi with us, so we could make an ornament with her pawprint in it. She was the very first customer on this beautiful day. Here you can see her with her adoring Megan, after her pawprint was immortalized, Grauman’s style:

Being nearly 15 years old, Schatzi tired pretty quickly of all the ornament festivities, so I took her back to the car, admiring the view on the way:

I have to say, Megan’s careful regimen of food, supplements, and medications have kept Schatzi in remarkably good shape, especially considering that it was nearly two years ago that Dr. Carl told us about her secretly Swiss cheese bones. Nearly every day, she comes prancing by my house in her bright sweater, looking like a five year old dog having an excellent day.

We made an ornament for Jarrett’s puppy, and later I found out that Monica also made them for Roscoe and Clyde:

and Audrey:

On our way out the door, Megan asked me how Monica came up with all these wonderful fundraising ideas, and I said, “Because she’s Monica.”

Jarrett and Archimedes

The day after Thanksgiving, Jarrett met his new puppy, Archimedes*. Monica met us in the Village, with the puppy, his crate, blankets, a leash, and a package of information.

Everyone who adopts a dog from Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue gets a package of information about the breed – misconceptions, history, facts – and a dog who has been fostered with a loving family and is well socialized and happy:

In addition to all this, there was a letter from the foster family, who just happened to include two of the child artists from the wonderful Farm to Table Dinner in October (if you follow the link, these girls’ painting is the second one, blue and orange). The letter told everything they had learned about Archimedes during his stay with them, and I thought it was a really sweet gesture.

Like so many modern couples, Jarrett and Archi met on line.

One Saturday, Monica stopped in to see me at the jobette, carrying a just-rescued Archi. I fell for him on the spot and took some pictures, which I posted on Facebook in the hopes of helping to find him a good home. Jarrett saw the pictures and fell for the little guy, too.

After spending some time in serious thought, talking to Megan, and checking into daycare and training options, he filled out the application and was approved. I never saw it and still don’t know what his responses were to Monica’s detailed questionnaire, but she is very thorough and careful with every application, so I’m proud of Jarrett for passing the screening all on his own.

It happened that Megan had an appointment set up with Star to see her trainer that day – they meet once or twice a week, weather permitting – and Archi came along. He is a very smart dog, quick to learn, and Star made real progress in tolerating the puppy.

Jarrett and Archi stayed at my house:

and it was fascinating to see how the kitties reacted to the invasion.

Audrey: “You are disgusting. Get out of my house.” ~death glare~

Clyde: “Mommy! Save me! Eeeeek!” ~slept on my head all night~

Roscoe: “Whatever, man.” ~yawn~

*Named for the great scientist, mathematician, and inventor of antiquity. I find it rather delightful that the original Archimedes was from Syracuse in Greece, and Jonathan and I were born in the New York Syracuse. Also our friend Clayton. It kind of seemed like a good sign.

It’s a blustery day here in Hooterville – the kind where the wind chimes sing merrily of power outages, and you wake up to find that your purple honeysuckle has been swept off its feet. I will need to borrow a cup of Rob, like I did a few days ago when the sliding glass door in the studio came off its moorings. Fortunately, the glass didn’t break, and Rob was able to reinstall it by the light of the silvery flashlight, but I’ll use one of the other four doors for a while…

Thanksgiving is approaching rapidly, and we have a couple of new reasons to be thankful.

One Saturday when I was at the jobette, Monica stopped by so I could meet someone:

It was the world’s cutest puppy! I fell pretty hard for Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue’s latest member, and I posted pictures of him on Facebook to try and help find him a good home. Imagine my joy when our nephew* Jarrett adopted him! Jarrett will be here for Thanksgiving and will pick up the puppy then. I can’t wait! And I’m so glad that I will get to watch Archimedes grow up.

A couple of weeks ago, a small, starved, mangy-looking kitty turned up at our brother’s place:

We estimate that she is somewhere between 6 and 8 months old. We have no idea how she got there – Jonathan lives alone on 68 acres, and across the street is a further 100 uninhabited acres – but somehow, she found him. He’s been catless and dogless for a long time, so it’s a win-win.

I hesitated to post about it before, because it took a long time to get close enough to pet her and get her to come inside for the night, and we were all afraid that she would take off and take our hearts with her. But fortunately, she is enjoying the food and the pets, so we’re hoping that she will be a permanent member of the family.

She has the loudest meow and purr, sometimes both at the same time. She’s quite the character.

*We have known Jarrett since he was four years old. He and his Mom lived on a boat at Pier 39, as did Megan, Rob, and Jonathan. They took the fatherless kid under their wings, and he lived with Megan and Jonathan during his last two years of high school, like Megan did with me.

Waiting for the light to change

I arrived at the clinic at 4:40 yesterday afternoon, but I didn’t see the doctor until after 6:00. Fortunately, I had the latest Ruth Rendell (“Really, Megan, have you ever known me to be without a book?”), and the hell trip to Detroit this summer has made every other wait comparatively easy. Compared to four hours (or was it more?) at O’Hare or three or more at SFO in the middle of the night without even a glass of water, it was a joy. Maybe that trip has finally cured my chronic impatience.

Or not.

When I finally got in there, Dr. Sue, who is a friend of my sister’s and now officially takes care of our whole family, apologized for the delay and then looked at my chart.

“Why are you here?” she asked, mystified.

I said that they made me, refusing to refill the medicine for my fluttery heart (no medical intervention as yet for the Grinchiness, though) until a doctor examined me, possibly for actual signs of said heart.

“That’s ridiculous”, she said. “You were here 9 months ago and your blood work is perfect.” She listened to my heart and checked all my vital signs, and, as usual I was pairfectly fine (to quote Jacques Pepin). She emailed the pharmacy with refills for a year and said she’d see me then.

It was a mere $50 to find out I was fine, and although the Giants game was well underway by the time I got in the car, I listened to it on the radio on the way home. I got there in time to see the Giants win 8-3.

Audrey celebrated by staying out all night. She finally showed up in time for me to put her in her carrier and into the car. She had pooped before I had driven more than two miles, so I had to shift abruptly from the pleasant heat to having all the windows open and freezing while gagging.

By the time I arrived at the vet, Audrey was foaming at the mouth and had drool all over the bars of her carrier. Good thing Atticus Finch wasn’t around.

Dr. Karen was not there. She had to rush to her elderly father’s bedside in southern California, and got there just a few hours before he died. He had Alzheimer’s and it had been a very difficult time, but she is glad she made it on time and that he is at rest. Megan spoke with her this evening and comforted her.

Dr. Carl stepped in, as wonderful as ever. He was actually able to calm Audrey down and she didn’t complain when he examined her. Here you can see her exploring the examination room:

It’s a good thing I brought her in, because she has a severe allergy to fleas and has dermatitis. The lumps are her lymph system fighting off the allergy and infection. She needed blood tests, a steroid shot, and an antibiotic shot. She also requires a dropper of Omega-3s on her food once a day to help keep her skin in shape. Oh, and the flea treatment.

It was more than $300, but worth it to get Audrey happy and healthy again.

I had to leave her there for the blood tests, so I amused myself by poking around the Village, which was looking quite lovely between storms:

As I snapped this view from the bookstore, it occurred to me that despite the 1.5 inches of rain in the rain gauge, you probably don’t believe me when I complain about the weather when it looks like this on my blog most of the time:

Relieved of the weighty weight of $300 and Audrey worries, we yowled our way home in the sunshine, three hours after we had left home. On arrival, I let Audrey out into the garden and removed the towel which she had puked on, adding it to the poo towel and the mountain of bedding to be washed.

I had sprinkled diatomaceous earth on all the carpets before I left, so I put in load 1 of 9,000 of washing and started vacuuming. Somehow I ended up sweeping and mopping and cleaning in a manner I had not expected, though I had “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” on TV to keep me company. I was just hauling a load of blankets out of the dryer when Paul walked in.

He will be here tonight and is heading back to San Francisco tomorrow. He has met a girl in San Francisco he’s really excited about and has a couple of dates set up with her before he heads back to pick up his car in the Hamptons and drive it home to Florida for the weekend. Looks like he will be back at Christmas, so yay!

It has been quite a day. Time for a drink and the Giants game.

Well, today is going to be a lovely day.

I woke up to find that the kitties had been romping in the garbage and recycling under the kitchen sink during the night. I waited until I was caffeinated before dealing with that.

Then I drove to the jobette in the pouring rain. We are going to have a staff meeting for most of the day, and you know how delightful those always are.

After work, I get to go to the clinic and huddle with the rest of the uninsured masses, contemplating my downward mobility among the homeless folks and welfare mothers with screaming children. And pay for the (dis)pleasure. Undoubtedly I will have to also pay for blood tests and lose more pay by having to take more time off for the blood tests, and more time off for the results, for which time I will also not be paid, though I will have to pay yet again for another visit.

If you don’t have money (or insurance), you always have to pay more.

The I get to drive home in the rainy darkness, which I love, and as an added bonus, miss the beginning of the first World Series game between the San Francisco Giants and the Detroit Tigers. Grrr.

Bitter much?

Tomorrow I get to look forward to keeping Audrey inside until 8:30, when I will attempt to decant her into the cat carrier and bring her to Dr. Karen, undoubtedly to the accompaniment of squalling, puking, and pooping. I discovered a lump near her left front leg yesterday and am concerned. And then there’s this year plague of fleas. I’m afraid that Dr. Karen will think I’m a bad pet parent when she finds out how scabalicious Audrey is from the fleas.

In my defense, I have ordered the flea meds but they aren’t here yet – one of the perks of living in the country. When they do get here, it will be a laundry palooza again, which I’m not looking forward to.

Sigh.