Suzy Says

Cider pressing day dawned fair for a change. For the first year, it was rainy; last year, it was cold enough to move all operations other than the actual pressing inside Rio’s house.

When I pulled up at Rio’s estate, the boys were hard at work setting up the new (to us) press. Instead of borrowing our friend and neighbor’s apple press, this year my brother Jonathan invested in a 30 year old press. It’s still a hand-operated press, but this one has separate parts for grinding the apples and for pressing them.

Rob washed our organic apples:

Megan, Rio, and I halved or quartered them, depending on size:

It felt like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice. No matter how many apples we chopped, there was always more. Here they are in the hopper of the grinder, which was mostly manned by Jonathan, but also manned by Rob and Clayton:

Clayton mostly worked on the pressing part:

You can see Jonathan valiantly grinding the apples in the background.

We went through several wheelbarrows of “pomace”, or crushed apples, which all had to be wheeled to the compost pile.

We took a break for lunch, which was corn chips and salsa made almost entirely from our garden-gown ingredients, including cherry tomatoes, jalapenos, and apples. Apples are great in salsa! Fun fact: the bowl was made by Clayton himself. He’s not just a master painter and apple presser!

Then it was back to work. Jonathan estimates that we made about 40 gallons of cider, or twice what we made last year when we and the rest of the coast had such a poor apple crop.

When we were finally done, we cleaned up and toasted another successful cider pressing. Dinner was garden slop and pasta with garlic bread, followed by raspberry sorbet made from raspberries my siblings grew:

I can’t describe the intense berry taste of sorbet that only has two ingredients: raspberries and sugar. It was the perfect end to a lovely dinner and a hard-working day.

A YEAR AGO: A chilly day for cider prep and pressing.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A busy and action-packed trip to Atlanta. Those were the days, though I didn’t know it then.

TEN YEARS AGO: Voting day, and it was a nerve-wracking nail biter. Again, those were the days and I didn’t know it then. I’m sensing a theme here.

We were long overdue for a family dinner. The last one may have been for Dad’s birthday, way back in March. I was too sick to attend Megan’s birthday BBQ, and the tragedy of losing Erica’s mother so suddenly and horribly removed any festive feelings for the rest of the summer, preempting Junapalooza and any other celebrations.

We had the dinner at Rio’s house. When I arrived bearing wine, she already had a plate of delightful appetizers set out. They were rice crackers topped with Cheddar and neat squares of roasted red peppers:

My industrious siblings had a bumper crop of peppers this year, and had roasted them over apple wood and then preserved them in olive oil. I admire (but do not emulate) their near-constant garden labor. It seems to me that they are either watering and weeding or picking and preserving. They are probably glad when winter rolls around and they can take a break from endless garden duty.

The homegrown theme continued. Jonathan was in the kitchen making what he and Megan affectionately refer to as “garden slop”, which is pasta sauce made from tomatoes, peppers, basil, and anything else from the garden that looks good and can be tossed in, like delicata squash:

Despite its unlovely name, garden slop is delicious and never quite the same. We had it with pasta and freshly grated Parmesan, along with garlic bread. The garden crew cleverly made a big batch of garlic butter from the garlic they grew and froze it in individually wrapped, flattened patties which are the perfect size for a loaf of bread. So making garlic bread is practically instant.

For the first time in recorded history, my brother’s pastry didn’t work out. He had to consign it to the compost pile and instead made apple crisp from apples he and the team had just picked. There were more than enough left over for the upcoming cider pressing:

Plan B tasted as good as Plan A would have, and it was a great evening. I was glad we were all together at last.

A YEAR AGO: Trick or treating with Jessica. Little did I know it would be the last time. Here’s how she looked this year:

Note the terrifying neck makeup!

FIVE YEARS AGO: A happy Halloween.

TEN YEARS AGO: A happy ending for everyone!

Megan and I were not in a hurry to get home that sunny Saturday afternoon.

We had often driven past The Madrones, but never stopped in. We decided this was the day.

The Madrones, named for the tree, includes lodging, a spa, a charming shop or two, and a delightful restaurant, all located around a lovely courtyard:

In fact, it looks quite a lot like Italy:

The restaurant is in fact the same one that provided the sleepover pizza with its gossamer thin crust baked in a wood-fired oven. And because it’s the smallest of small towns, its owner and chef is the father of a friend’s child, which I learned afterwards. I’d love to have that pizza again.

Up next in our “always wanted to go there” tour was The Bewildered Pig. My epicurean friend and world traveler Richard recommended a gift certificate from there for Dr. Sue when she retired from the clinic, and we thought we could stop and have a look at the menu.

It turned out that the menu was not posted, but we were stunned by the beauty of the courtyard that welcomed us:

It just kept getting more beautiful as we looked around:

When I reached the wine barrel fountain:

I found Megan deep in conversation with a man in overalls, who turned out to be one of the owners and the creator of the fountains and the entire garden. He invited us into his office/workshop area, governed by two brother cats named Smith and Wesson and presided over by a bottle tree:

There was a gate made from vintage chains:

And an outdoor shower for when the day’s art and sculpture were done:

He let us into the restaurant and showed us a menu, telling us that the kitchen staff was all women. They use as much local food and wine as possible. In the evenings, the fire ring in the courtyard blazes with aromatic woods like cedar and Applewood, the perfect place for a glass of wine or two under the twinkling lights.

Before going on his way in a vintage truck, he snipped a Lady Emma Hamilton rose, removed its thorns, and handed it to me, asking us to return soon. I can’t wait. And it made my house smell divine for over a week!

A YEAR AGO: A look around another lovely garden a little closer to home.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Multi-tasking at the jobette: talking a walk and working at the same time!

TEN YEARS AGO: A surprising wake-up call.

Beautiful Downtown Boonville

When I woke up the next day, it gladdened my Grinchy heart to peek over the driftwood railings at Jessica, sleeping peacefully on the couch in her fuzzy skeleton PJs. I sneakily fed the cats and made coffee, following my usual weekend routine of drinking coffee in bed with the cats while reading and answering my fan mail.

Jessica awoke in due course, packed up her things and slipped into a little black dress:

She got it at a thrift shop – I think it’s a Calvin Klein. She is accessorized by a little black cat. Clyde goes with everything.

Megan, Erica, and I conferred by text and decided to meet up at Julie and Darius’ lovely emporium in the heart of Boonville for lunch. In my case, it was a BLT made with local bacon, greens, and heirloom tomatoes along with spicy sweet potato fries:

It was nice to sit in the shade at the wooden picnic table while enjoying the view:

After lunch, we poked around the shops. I was charmed by these shoes in an antique shop:

Unfortunately, they were too small to fit my wicked stepsister sized feet, and as usual, my head was too giant for the charming hats, once again making me wonder how my head can be so big when it only has to house two underemployed brain cells.

It was nice to meander around town together, and I have to admit it made me sad when we parted ways, knowing that the final parting is looming next month. I can feel the beating of its black wings.

A YEAR AGO: Storing the potatoes we grew. The storage did not turn out exactly as expected, due to the buckets of sand strongly resembling litterboxes in a house full of cats. Lesson learned.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Back home after a lovely trip to LA.

TEN YEARS AGO: Watching the catspat.

The first thing when planning a successful sleepover is to get the right assortment of snacks:

Salt and vinegar chips, Pringles, Starburst, Almond Roca thins (did you know those existed? If not, go and get some. You can thank me later) and Jessica’s favorite Whoppers pretty much covered all the bases as far as I was concerned.

I was planning to leave work a little early to pick up a pizza in the Village, but Erica said she would bring it from Stone & Embers in the Valley. She also brought some salad greens and a pear, so we had a lovely salad along with our delicious pizza:

Erica headed off after dinner, blasting K-pop in the Hagmobile since Jessica was staying overnight at Stately Suzy Manor. Jessica has a limited tolerance for really loud K-pop. Sometimes it seems like their roles are reversed, with Erica being the rebellious teenager and Jessica the tolerant mom. This usually happens much later in life, but Jessica has always been precocious.

I asked Jessica which movie she would like to watch from my vast library, and she asked for “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”, saying, “I’ve never seen it, but I have a feeling it’s so you!” And so it is. We were enchanted with the legendary Audrey’s hair and wardrobe, as well as the vintage New York scenes. I would love a sleep mask and tasseled earplugs like Holly’s! During the party scene in Holly’s apartment, Jessica observed, “It looks like your place at Christmas or Thanksgiving!” She added that she would have preferred it if Holly did not have a romance with her neighbor, and I told her that was not in the book. She said, “I’ll have to read the book.” I am looking forward to introducing her to the inimitable Truman Capote and his remarkable way with words.

After that, we watched “Legally Blonde”. I have to admit that it’s one of my favorite movies and I consider it to be perfection of its kind. I never get tired of watching it, and like “Auntie Mame”, it always cheers me up.

Megan headed home after the second of our double features. It’s still weird that she no longer walks to her house through the secret path through the woods, but drives down the Ridge instead.

Jessica and I watched a couple of episodes of “Daria” after Megan left. I love Daria and her hilarious cynicism. I agree with Jessica that her mom is just like Jane Lane. And we both have a crush on Trent.

Eventually I made up a bed for Jessica on the couch, where she was joined by Clyde as she drew that day’s Inktober drawing before drifting off to sleep under the ancient quilt her mother had restored for me. Clyde is an excellent muse and sleeping companion. Those are hard to come by.

A YEAR AGO: Fires and quakes. All right here in our County.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Lots of travel. Those were the days.

TEN YEARS AGO: A close brush with jury duty.

One day as I stepped out of the shower*, my pearls slipped from around my neck to the bathroom floor.

After nearly 30 years of dedicated service, the string of pearls John gave me for my 30th birthday** had broken. It was time to get them restrung, but it’s times like this when you realize some of the drawbacks in living somewhere quite as Hootervillian as Hooterville.

I tried a couple of places and they couldn’t do it. I was beginning to consider Fed Exing the pearls to John in Civilization to see if he could get them restrung when I suddenly remembered our old family friend Chris, who has a jewelry shop in the Village. I texted him and he said that he and/or his wife could restring the pearls and add a new clasp.

So after work one day, I stopped by with my broken pearls. The shop is right above the bookstore, so the view is quite lovely:

and The Great Catsby occasionally deigns to pay a visit, bask in the sun, and allow himself to be admired.

It was great to see Chris again and catch up with each other’s news. We reminisced about the long ago days when my brother had croquet parties at his house and Jed the Wonder Dog was still with us. I realize we have known each other quite a long time.

So I left the pearls in good hands and headed home to the kitties, who were waiting for their treats and pets. Sadly for them, I am as bad a cat maid as I would have been a mother, because I fed them and then heartlessly vanished again.

Our favorite seaside bar was about to close for a month, so Megan and I decided that we should squeeze in another drink or two there while we could. We were warmly greeted by the wonderful bartender, and it was a beautiful sunset:

made all the more beautiful by the addition of a lavender lemon drop:

We are so lucky to have such a wonderful place right in our backyard.

*Pearls enjoy being worn in the shower. It’s good for their luster.

**And to think I thought I was old then! Also, John had good taste in jewelry. I still wear a lot of the pieces he gave me over the 15 years of our marriage. Like the fabulous Zsa Zsa, I lost the guy but kept the bling.

A YEAR AGO: The terrible wildfires were blazing. It was a terrifying time.

FIVE YEARS AGO: An adventurous trip to the vet with the Imperious Audrey. Is there any other kind?

TEN YEARS AGO: Back to reality after the glamorous joys of staying at a grand hotel in Pasadena.

Other than the Case of the Missing Landlord* and the plumbing mutiny, here’s what’s been happening in and around Stately Suzy Manor.

The Epic Dental Safari: I went to see my dentist after the hell of the root canal. It was supposed to be for a minor surface filling and to get the night guard**, but he decided to permanently seal the root canaled tooth first. As I now know, it’s never good when they talk about opening up the tooth and get that fascinated look on their faces. Also there is not enough nitrous oxide in the world to make it less unpleasant. Basically it was a mini root canal, as he took out the temporary filling and posts (who knew?) and replaced them with permanent versions while complimenting his colleague’s work. I will still have to get a crown in the new year when I get a whole new batch of dental benefits.

Speaking of which, the HR person was able to reduce my root canal bill by $200, which was a delightful surprise. Also, I learned that the pharmacy had been charging me incorrectly for the past few years, apparently not realizing that I have insurance. So I got a refund for the difference in cost for the antibiotics this month and will only have to pay $15 a pop going forward. So things are looking up in the dental and medical departments.

Dodge City: Little Dodge is flourishing. He now has a complete covering of fur all over his body, including his no longer rat-like but still very long tail. He is significantly less skeletal as well. He is enjoying his new lifestyle of constantly available food and water, daily treats, and lounging on the bed, which is his favorite place. He is both handsome and happy, which gladdens my Grinchy little heart. Here he is, hanging out on top of the armoire (aka Audrey’s throne):

I’m still keeping him inside. He doesn’t seem to have much interest in the Wide World. Perhaps, like Henry Etta, he knows that no good comes of it and being inside is safer, warmer, and an all-around better place to be. Clyde continues his lack of interest in playing outside, and even the imperious Audrey hasn’t bothered with her early morning constitutional lately. Maybe Dodge will just stay an inside cat. I can revisit it when the weather warms up next year. By then, he will definitely know where he lives.

Dodge and Clyde have started playing together. I have seen them touch noses and even give each other little baths:

so they are on the road to friendship. Naturally, Audrey regards them both with the same disdain she applies to everyone. The empress is egalitarian that way.

*Where’s Nancy Drew and her blue convertible when you need her? As Marilyn approvingly observed in “:Northern Exposure”, “She’s competent.” Unlike me.

**He did have time to do those things, too. So far I have not been able to get used to the night guard, which makes me nauseous in addition to its general lack of comfort.

A YEAR AGO: A peek at the eccentric local message boards.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Heading home from San Francisco.

TEN YEARS AGO: Hanging out in Pasadena.

But it hasn’t been all dental nightmares. At least, not entirely.

Megan and I intended to meet Erica and Jessica at the Fair that Friday, but fate and dental issues had other plans. That was the day I went to the walk in clinic, and by the time I was seen and picked up my second prescription for antibiotics, I was done for the day. Unfortunately, it was likely the last Fair we will share with Erica and Jessica, since they are planning to move to beautiful British Columbia in the very near future. Even more unfortunately for Erica, she spent the last Fair parrying questions and comments about her mother’s sudden and tragic death at the location of her memorial service. No wonder she is ready to get the hell out of here.

By Saturday afternoon, however, I had recovered sufficiently to venture to the Fair. Megan found yet another great parking space, and it was a delightful and humane 73 degrees instead of blasting us with oven-like heat as it usually does on Fair day. I wore my pink straw Fair hat just in case, though.

Once we were through the gates, we were immediately taken with some lovely outdoor lanterns. I wasted no time in buying one, even though I had to carry it around, purse-like, for the rest of the day. I’m looking forward to installing it outside next summer.

After we equipped ourselves with delicious, icy tropical drinks, complete with little paper umbrellas, we strolled among the farm animals, enjoying the antics of the goats and sheep in the hay-scented cool of the barn before heading over to admire the bunnies and exotic birds.

This guy was the coolest bunny at the Fair. Or maybe anywhere:

This turkey was quite magnificent:

And I love the curly plumage on this lovely pigeon:

The theme for the flower displays this year was love. So of course there had to be a kissing booth:

Plant one here! 🙂

Though the biggest pumpkins were a bit on the modest side:

I was delighted by the potato pigs and egg chickens:

So cute!

There are always such interesting ways of arranging flowers. I would never have thought of putting carrots in a vase like this:

So simple, but yet so striking.

All in all, it was a great time. Spending time with my sister at our little country fair is one of the great joys in life.

A YEAR AGO: A lovely evening at Rio’s place with dear friends.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A memorable and magical visit to the amazing B. Bryan Preserve.

TEN YEARS AGO: The ever-amazing Jessica was amazing even at the age of five. Some things never change.

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!

It’s not looking good

It was a tough week. With prep for the annual staff day, the day itself, and the aftermath, I logged too many hours of overtime this week, all of it while still in the throes of my my aching back. I was very glad when Friday evening finally arrived. Just as I was settling down to watch Armored Car Robbery, starring the luckless William Talman*, my own luck ran out when the power did.

Usually the power goes out during winter storms, when wind and rain wreak havoc on power lines. But it was the dead of summer, with blue skies. Possibly an overserved driver had an unexpected meeting with a power pole. Whatever caused it, my admittedly modest plans for a fun Friday evening were cancelled.

I dug out one of the solar powered lanterns and immersed myself in Convenience Store Woman to wait it out. Erica texted me that the power was out from Yorkville to Albion, not a good sign. I was thrilled when the power came back on after a few hours, even though it was too late to watch the movie.

Imagine my surprise and displeasure when it went out again last night, waking me up shortly after I had drifted off to sleep. I called my buddies at PG&E’s outage line, and was unsurprised but still disheartened to learn that I was the first one to report it. Erica’s was out, too.

I slept fitfully, tossing and turning with the kind of dozing you do on planes, where you are aware of what’s going on around you. The power came back on after 3:00 am, and later I learned from the local message boards that “50,000 customers in Mendocino and Lake Counties were out of power beginning at about 10:30 Saturday night. The outage was caused by heavy smoke around transmission lines, such heavy smoke that it became a conductor of electricity, shorting out
transmission lines.”

Note that the entire population of Mendocino County is about 90,000. As you can see from the map above, California is basically on fire. We have two in our County, the River Fire and the Ranch Fire. They are each only about 5% contained and there have been evacuations. There are and have been a lot of fires this early in the season and it’s hard not to feel that climate change played a part. Also that as scary as it is now, it will only get scarier.

*Not only did Talman play the ever-losing Hamilton Burger on “Perry Mason”, he lost that job when police raided a drug-laden party at which Talman and the other guests were nude. He was also arrested as a teenager when he crashed a car he didn’t know was stolen, killing his passenger. Talman died of lung cancer at a mere 53 years old.

A YEAR AGO: Surviving the annual Hell Day at work. Now all I have to dread is the holiday party.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Helping Jim and Joel plan their wedding.

TEN YEARS AGO: Getting lost in the wilds of Berkeley.

Step right up!

I was glad to see the red and white striped tent appear in the Village, since it could only mean one thing: Flynn Creek Circus was back in town!

Megan and I had bought tickets well in advance, and when the day arrived, we were both in somewhat bad moods after a long week and unpleasant financial news for both of us (if you think you can’t be any more broke than you already are, surprise! You can!), so to tell the truth we didn’t really feel like going. But I’m glad we did, because the wonders of these artistes banished all our cares and blew what was left of our minds.

Megan’s parking karma held as we parked nearby in a location from which we would later make a quick getaway while others were struggling to make their way onto the highway. As an added bonus, her headlights worked, so we didn’t have to annoy our neighbors by driving home with high beams.

The tent was crowded, and in the way of small towns, one of my co-workers was sitting in front of us, and the latest in the long series of CEOs of the jobette was seated behind us. He didn’t know that I knew who he was. Unfortunately, he was with a posse of his rich, entitled friends, and they proceeded to talk through the entire performance, with Mr. CEO constantly screaming “Woo!” and “Yeah!” into my aching ear. If the show hadn’t been sold out, we would have moved to escape the endless audio onslaught.

Despite that annoyance, we focused on the show, a new one which took placed on a ship captained by a sparkly mermaid:

It started with graceful knife throwing and juggling, followed by a girl who balanced a hula hoop on her head while spinning others on her arms and body. It’s like the laws of gravity do not apply to Flynn Creek Circus.

The Daring Jones Duo did their amazing trapeze act:

If you’re wondering about the feathers, they were dressed as seabirds visiting the ship. And this sparkling artist performed aerial stunts far above us:

Possibly the most amazing part of all the amazing acts was the guy who was not content to merely walk a tightrope. He also did somersaults, flipped backwards, and spun in the air, then landed on the narrow rope. I found a brief video to give you an idea of the wonders.

There were also three gravity-defying artists who sort of bounced sideways off a rubber wall and landed on top of it, or seemed to sort of be suspended in space, or bounced mind-bogglingly high. It’s hard to explain but was enthralling to watch. You can see a little bit of that in the video, too.

When the magic was over, the artists formed a receiving line at the exit so we could shake their hands and tell them how amazing the show was. It was a nice personal touch. All in all, yet another wonderful evening at the unforgettable Flynn Creek Circus.

A YEAR AGO: A less than stellar day.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The results of Schatzi’s DNA test. 50% pit bull, 100% wonderful. I still miss that girl.

TEN YEARS AGO: The glamorous lives of the wealthy (in novels). Not me (in real life).

A postcard day

It was a postcard day as Megan and I headed to Point Arena and points beyond. I’m always happy to be chauffeured by my little sister, especially since it gives me time to admire the passing scenery, which was definitely scenic. It was a beautiful day, like a postcard, the sea deep blue with lacy white waves. The fields were full of wildflowers, white, purple, pink, and orange, and wild pink roses tumbled over old wooden fences. The cows and sheep have babies. The hills have turned “golden” as we move into summer.

We went to Franny’s Cup & Saucer in Point Arena, about an hour’s drive from Albion. Franny’s is run by a former pastry chef from the famous Berkeley restaurant, Chez Panisse. As you would expect, they make wonderful confections:

As you would not expect, they also sell various cute things, which often end up in our Christmas stockings. I got a couple of cute things for Erica’s and Jessica’s stockings. I don’t really have anything for the stockings this year. Usually, I have a few things by now. I’m afraid I may have outdone myself last year and perhaps set the bar too high for any future stockings.

I also chose a wonderful piece of cake: dark chocolate cake, apricot jelly, sea salt caramel cream, and dark chocolate olive oil ganache. It was light as air and just divine. Megan and I both got mini pizzas with sausage, asparagus, red onion, and brine-cured olives to have for lunch at the play.

With our Franny’s provisions stowed in the car, we headed further down the south coast to Anchor Bay, where we got Thai food for dinner. Then we went back to Point Arena to see the National Theatre of London’s production of “Macbeth”. There was a short introduction by the director, who said that this version of the Scottish play was set in a place where there had been generations of civil war, which he felt made the characters’ motivations and actions more understandable. It was also set in a sort of dystopian semi-future, and I never respond well to that kind of thing. The sets were certainly cleverly done, but I found them and the costumes to be jarring, especially in contrast to the language. The acting was great, though. Megan did better with the innovations than I did, maybe because she’s younger.

When I was, say, 15 and she was 6, the age difference was huge. Megan would always say, “I’ll catch up you, you’ll see!” She certainly did.

A YEAR AGO: You never know what you’ll find at my house. Could be a giant, unexpected refrigerator. Or a woodpecker.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Remembrances of summers past

TEN YEARS AGO: The eternal glamor of Miss Audrey Hepburn.

It was time for the annual quilt show, something I look forward to each year. The exhibit is held in the elementary school in the Big Town. Even though school is out, and my school days are long behind me, there’s something about being in a school building that just takes you right back to those days. You practically expect to be taken to the principal’s office for walking the halls without a pass. When Megan lived with me during high school and I went to her parent-teacher meetings, I always felt like an imposter who would be told I was not a real grown up and be forced to go back to school. Fortunately, this waking nightmare never came true.

Once we got to the quilts, those thoughts vanished as we admired our neighbors’ handiwork. No matter how long I live here and how many exhibits I attend, I will never get over how many talented artists live here.

This clever quilt was shaped like a piece of honeycomb, and the bees sported glittery, transparent wings:

This one featured the Hooterville Bridge, accessorized with a glamorous wisp of silvery fog, which was unfortunately lacking on that scorching day, when it was 90 inside my house and was still 86 when I went to bed. Is it any wonder I start dreading summer in February?

This quilt celebrated the joys of winter weather, when a girl can sleep in comfort beneath a quilt and blankets. I like how the fabric looked like rain in the background, along with mushrooms, frogs, a cat looking out of the window, and rain boots. So cozy!

This barnyard scene was charming. I wish I had taken a better photo of it. There are actual tiny clothes flying from the clothesline!

This bright piece reminds me of Hawaii and the tropics. Each stripe is an individual piece of fabric.

This was a nice companion piece to the Hawaiian piece. I think it was called a dragonfish. I thought it was exotic looking and striking.

This cat quilt was clever, too. The cats were all cut out and pieced by hand. What could be cozier than cats and quilts?

We decided to stop in and see Monica at her beautiful shop. She was quite busy, but we managed to catch up with most of each other’s news between customers, and I also found time to shop, buying this lovely pillow:

It was on sale! And it looks very nice with the beaded pillows on the side. In real life, you can see the sheen of the beads. It is very comfortable as well for the rare times I lounge on the couch, and it has already received the kitty seal of approval.

On our way home, we stopped off to get more wood-fired pizzas in the Village, sitting at a little table in the shade while we waited and petting an adorable dog named Lola. It hasn’t taken us long to add the pizzeria to our favorite spots. When we got home, dinner was ready!

A YEAR AGO: Cherries from our tree!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Everyone was feeling better.

TEN YEARS AGO: Braving the traffic to see Stevie Wonder.

I am happy to report that I am sitting in bed with both cats at the luxurious hour of 8:00 am. There is no Evil Death Star blasting through the skylight and blinding me. Also I am actually wearing my bathrobe (the old red fleece one from the Gap that I have had since I lived in San Francisco, incredibly enough) and sitting under the comforter. Huzzah!

Last night it was a mere 70 degrees in my living room as I watched The Man Who Cheated Himself and drank lemonade with raspberry vodka. The movie was filmed on location in San Francisco in 1950, and it was fun to see my old hometown and guess at the locations, seeing what has changed and what hasn’t. I have to say that Lee J. Cobb made as unlikely a leading man as Jane Wyatt did a femme fatale, but it was still fun to watch.

Today I did a little gardening and a lot of cooking. When I was finished with these tasks and settled on the couch with a baseball game on, I got an email telling me that my DNA results were in.

Despite the tragedy that struck Erica, and the ensuing memorial service right before our birthdays, Erica bought me an Ancestry.com DNA kit for my birthday. She knew that I have been wanting to do this for some time now, but found the cost prohibitive. She really is like another sister. I sent it in the day after I received it, and here’s what they say is my heritage:

It’s not very surprising, other than the high percentage of Iberian Peninsula. I wonder if that is on my mother’s side, since we know absolutely nothing about her birth parents or any of her ancestors. Mom never cared about who her birth parents were, feeling that her parents chose her out of all the kids in the world, and they were the ones to raise her and love her and travel through life’s journey with her.

I always accepted this, and I could not love my grandparents more, but over time I have come to wonder about the girl who gave birth to Mom and felt that she had no choice but to leave her on the steps of an orphanage one spring day in 1932. I now realize that she was most likely heart-broken, possibly in a really bad situation, and probably wondered for the rest of her life how her little girl was.

The DNA results also told me that I have very, very distant cousins who also sent in their DNA. I have to admit I was secretly hoping that Mom’s birth mother had other kids, and that they in turn had their own, and we would find each other and the mystery – or at least part of it – would be solved. I will just have to accept that I will never know.

A YEAR AGO: A blissful sleepover with Jessica. So much fun in such a short time! We are overdue for another one.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Man, everyone was sick! Megan had the flu, Clyde had a Mystery Illness, and Jessica broke her leg. What the hell? What the heck?

TEN YEARS AGO: Heat, miracles and wild, wild fires.

If it’s Saturday, it must be scorching…

The last two Saturdays in a row have been hot’n’heinous, reaching 90 in my bijou residence. And that’s downstairs, where the propane heater gives a readout of the room temperature. It was still 86 downstairs when I went to bed upstairs in the sleeping loft, cursing James’ genius idea of having the balcony door face west, where it can get as much sun for as long as possible, especially during the hottest part of the day. What else would you expect from the guy who put in light switches that say NO when you turn them on?

My survival plan now includes hanging a dark sheet up on the balcony door, white-trash style, in the hopes that it will give a little shade and maybe help with the heat party, with the hot air rising up to the pointy ceiling and hanging out there:

I am also leaving the sliding glass doors downstairs open with the screen closed to keep the kitties in but allow the mythical cross breeze to come in once I take the trashy sheet down at night.

Do I have to move to Alaska? Look out, Tim, you may have a new neighbor!

When I was a kid, Saturdays were for cartoons. Our parents severely limited our TV time, but I seem to remember being allowed to watch cartoons. Mom slept in, and Dad drank his black coffee, read the papers, and did some writing for work while the electronic babysitter kept us out of his thinning hair. I now realize that I pretty much do the same thing on weekends that Dad used to do, drinking my black coffee while reading and writing, awake but not doing anything yet, not wanting to talk to anyone as I slowly wake up.

Now I don’t watch cartoons, but sometimes the cartoons come to me, mostly courtesy of Clyde the little outlaw.

One weekend, he brought a bird into the house. I hate it when the cats* catch birds, and always interfere if I’m home. As always, he carried his prey up to sleeping loft (why?) and before I could get up the stairs, the bird managed to escape the jaws of death. Unfortunately for the bird, it flew into the wall above the kitchen sink, which it then fell into. Fortunately, it flew out of the sink and into the great outdoors, hotly pursued by Clyde as it vanished into the sky.

It really seemed like a cartoon: Zoom! Bang! Plop! Whir! And it all happened in seconds.

Moving up the food chain and out of season for Easter, Clyde’s next weekend import was a bunny. I managed to get the bunny away from Clyde, who I banished to the bathroom (aka the only room in the house with a door) while the bunny ran under the couch.

I had a hard time persuading the intruder to leave, possibly because Audrey was present, though she was completely uninterested in the whole thing, other than thinking that Clyde should always be shut in the bathroom. Eventually, the bunny hopped out from under the couch and out of the door, but he was much slower than I thought, which probably explains why Clyde was able to catch him in the first place.

Once again, it seemed like something out of a cartoon, and it all happened much more quickly than it took to tell you about it. Never a dull moment out here, I tell you!

As Audrey approaches her 11th birthday (!) next week, I realize that she no longer really hunts. I can’t remember the last time she imported wildlife into the house. Maybe it’s getting older, or maybe it’s just beneath her considerable dignity.

A YEAR AGO: Junapalooza! I miss you!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Getting divorced. I see it was hot then, too. Maybe the climate changed a long time ago and I didn’t notice?

TEN YEARS AGO: The horror of wildfires. And knowing my brother was out there fighting them.

Early one morning, on my way to work, I turned onto the Ridge from the dusty, potholed driveway* and was astonished to see a highway patrol car stopped just a few feet away. I could see a guy beyond the car. I stopped to ask the officer what the problem was, and he claimed there was no problem. OK, then.

I went around the stopped CHP car and the guy I had noticed earlier waved me down. He said he needed a ride to his friend’s house since his car had run out of gas and the CHP officer was supposedly threatening to tow it. I was driving the Heap that day, so I looked even less rob-worthy than usual. According to my unexpected passenger, the CHP guy was there because a tree had fallen further down the Ridge. This made no sense to me, since a fallen tree would need CalTrans and maybe PG&E, but not the CHP. Nor did I see any sign of the out of gas car. I dropped him off at the place he requested, but I still kind of wonder what was going on there.

I will file it away in the dusty funhouse attic of my mind along with a couple of other recent Ridge-related mysteries.

Another morning, I was again making my semi-virtuous way to work when I passed a fully loaded logging truck headed east on the Ridge. For those not familiar with the inner workings of Hooterville back roads, the Ridge runs east (inland) to west (the ocean and the road to Civilization and the Big Town). The Ridge is about 10 miles long and it does end, so it’s not a through road. It would have made sense if the truck was headed that way empty, to load up with logs, say at the haul road behind my house. Or if it was headed west, toward the big lumber mill in Cloverdale. But as it was, it made no sense, at least to me.

Our friends at CalFire use prisoner crews to clear brush and do other fairly simple, safety-enhancing tasks outside. Before you start thinking about Cool Hand Luke style chain gangs, I will just say that it is a coveted assignment among prisoners, which I know from a former convict. It shows that they are responsible and gets them out in the fresh air. So I am always glad to see them. But other than this one mysterious occasion, they are unanimously heading back to prison at 4:30 in the afternoon, not heading east on the Ridge to nowhere. I followed them as far as my driveway, where I turned and they carried on further toward the end of the road.

There you have it: some small and local mysteries.

*Tis the season. Winter is muddy with giant holes.

A YEAR AGO: Rob the artist strikes again. What would I do without him?

FIVE YEARS AGO: Surprise intruders: hummingbirds and rain.

TEN YEARS AGO: The loss of my beloved and wonderful stepmother, the love of Dad’s life. She made his final years the happiest of his life.

Despite the recent minor health and car problems, I have been trying to focus on the many things I have to be grateful for. My sister coming to my rescue with cold remedies; my brothers coming to my rescue with car remedies; a few minutes to cuddle with Clyde before the alarm goes off; an empty stretch of highway; the golden morning light on the hills as they make their seasonal change from green to gold; the deep lavender of a fog bank floating over a slate-blue sea; Mark’s dogs running up to joyfully greet me as I arrive home from work.

Since the tragedies occurred last month, I have been more thankful than ever for the little surprise gifts from my co-workers. One colleague brought me a beautiful beaded bracelet from Mexico:

She told me that she had it blessed in a little chapel in her home town, and that it would protect me when I wore it, as I often do. I was touched that she thought of me when she was so far away.

One of the doctors used to be a professional chef (How’s that for a career change? Though perhaps the late, great Anthony Bourdain would not be surprised), and one day, she brought me a generous helping of a new recipe she had tried in her Instant Pot, which was both delicious and enough for two dinners which I did not have to make, which happens to be my favorite kind.

Another co-worker brought me a stunning little arrangement of a flower from her garden called Mock Orange, a new one on me.

It was so pretty and lasted all week, reminding me of how lucky I am to work with such kind people. Whether they knew it or not, they helped me through that dark time and I am grateful for that.

A YEAR AGO: Sorbet, cracksicles, camping, and sculpture. All in Hooterville!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Some wonderful quilts.

TEN YEARS AGO: The fate of my former home. Their fates are never good.

I’m finally beginning to feel human again, though the Time Off Malaise made me miss a delightful BBQ with our friend Lu and the last ballet of the season. Of course I am well enough to go to work. But I’m also well enough to finally get around to recording more of our recent-ish adventures.

Rumor had it that the elegant Café Beaujolais, widely considered one of the best – or possibly the best – restaurants in the Village was selling wood-fired pizzas on certain days at certain times. Fortunately for Megan and me, we found ourselves in the Village at one of the designated times.

It took a little searching, but we finally found the pizza purveyors:

nestled in a lovely garden:

They were friendly and charming, and we were glad to wait for our pizzas in the beautiful garden. They were worth the wait:

Beautifully blistered, airy crust, topped with fennel sausage, red onions, fresh oregano, brine-cured olives, and Marzano tomatoes. Yum!

We stowed them in Megan’s little red car and then made our way to the beautiful Kelley House. I have never seen the Village so crowded. So many cars and so many zombies meandering all over the streets without looking for cars. Megan wisely drove behind the Kelley House, rightly guessing that there would be nowhere to park for blocks in front of the house.

The latest exhibit was of treasures found in the Kelley House pond when it was drained and restored. There were many beautiful bottles:

This one says “My Wife’s Salad Dressing, Chicago” on it:

The items included several small china dolls known as “Frozen Charlottes” (left):

Apparently a modish young lady refused to cover her elegant gown when driving to town for a New Year’s dance with her beau, and was DOA at the dance. I found it a little weird that this legend caused a doll craze instead of creeping everyone out. But then a lot of fairytales are creepy and horrifying.

We both enjoyed the exhibit and some new local history. Not to mention the pizza!

A YEAR AGO: A perfect day.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Birthday love

FIVE YEARS AGO: Henry and I get closer. I still miss that tough little kitty.