Suzy Says

On Sunday, I woke up to the sound of birds singing and the ocean pounding against the rocks and cliffs.

I drove homeward through the same striking scenery, really pleased that I had taken the time to explore a different part of the County. I stopped in the town of Elk (population 200 or so, and originally named Greenwood, after the founders of the town, whose father was one of the rescuers of the ill-fated Donner Party) and bought a newspaper in the little local store:

The one person serving was busy with other customers, so I left the money on the wooden counter and told him as I was leavng. He saluted and thanked me while making a sandwich.

I took the paper with me to Queenie’s Roadhouse:

It had been years since I had been there. It used to be that they were open irregularly, so it was wise to call first and make sure they were open before making the drive. Now they are open from 8:30 to 3:00 every day but Tuesday and Wednesday.

It’s still wise to bring the paper with you. There is no cell service or wifi there, and since every order is made from scratch with organic and/or local ingredients, it’s not fast food. It gives you time to enjoy the lovely view:

I had an omelette with fresh broccoli, balsamic onions, chicken apple sausage, and sharp white Cheddar, accompanied by house potatoes, fluffy rye toast, and two home-made jams (apricot and raspberry).

Replete, I set off for home, noting that it took a mere 20 minutes to get to Hooterville. I will be back soon!

Nothing takes a girl’s mind off divorce paperwork and restraining orders like a drive down the coast to see a burlesque show, n’est-ce pas?

After work on Saturday, Miss Scarlett and I drove the serpentine road to the south coast. The scenery was breathtaking and I wished more than once that I didn’t have to keep my eyes on the hilly, curvy road. The ocean crashed against the rocky cliffs, and a migrating whale flipped a tail at me in greeting as I drove past. Fields were dotted with placid cows and swept with bright wildflowers. California poppies and wild mustard blazed in the green grass by the side of the road, and the trees, bent and twisted by decades of ocean winds, were positively Seussian.

I checked in at a little inn by the ocean and then made the short drive to the lovely Arts Center:

arriving just as the sun was setting. The room was set up like a nightclub, with little tables dressed in candles and black tablecloths. Red lanterns hung from the high ceilings, and the place was packed.

Soon, the show began, with Les Filles Rouges singing and dancing and making the audience laugh with delight. Unfortunately, photography was strictly forbidden, but you can get a little taste of the artistes’ playfully sassy style in this video (and see them both in the shop where Megan and I finally learned the truth about bra sizes, and sashaying down the street where the jobette is).

True to the famously eccentric nature of the County, the Filles were not your everyday ecdysiasts. Some were far thinner than most dancers, and some much curvier. One had blue hair, another was dramatically tattooed, and one was quite pregnant. She stole the show dancing to “Like a Virgin”, ending up with red, sequined, heart-shaped, tasseled pasties on her belly button as well as the usual places, which brought down the house.

It was a lot of fun and I don’t know who had a better time, the girls or the audience.

After the show, I made my way back to the inn, where I had a glass of wine by the fire and later fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing and the frogs joyously greeting the gentle spring rain.

Big River

Usually, my idea of traffic is having to wait for two other cars to turn onto the highway from our rough country road – especially if they’re not related to me. Actually, the major annoyances for me when driving are people who drive below the speed limit and won’t pull over, and the people who jump out in front of me and then drive below the speed limit, usually when the road behind me is completely empty. Extra credit (or demerits) to the cars with “local” license plates frames who do all of the above and brake at every curve.

A few days ago, a cement truck overturned in the afternoon in what we call “Dark Gulch” – a low and curvaceous part of the two lane highway signposted at 15 miles an hour – and when I drove home more than four hours later, it was still a one lane road as they cleaned it up.

As you come out of Dark Gulch into the light, you now find signs warning of road work and flaggers. Only problem – at least for me – is that the actual road work is about two miles south of the signs, and more importantly, about a mile past my turn off. Those not in the know immediately start driving about 20 miles an hour in a 50 zone, annoying the Suzy who just wants to get home.

On the way to work on the same day as the cement truck spill, there was some kind of work going on at Big River bridge which required some kind of enormous drill looking thing and which also reduced traffic to one lane (the other side) or a total stop (Me). Not only did it make me worry about being late for work, it also deprived me of the not inconsiderable pleasure of sweeping across that curving bridge (see above) with the ocean on one side and the river on the other. In any weather, it lifts my spirit.

At the jobette, I learned that a movie will be filming on the notoriously zig zaggy roads around here in the first two weeks in April. The road to the city is a motorcyclist’s Mecca, and it just makes sense that it will be the filming location for Need for Speed, starring Aaron Paul, my crush from Breaking Bad. Oh, and Michael Keaton.

I was the only one who knew who Aaron Paul was, and although this was less shocking than the time that my boss brought in a Wines That Rock bottle with the iconic image from Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and I was the only one who could actually identify the image (my favorite guess: “Is it some kind of gay pride thing?”), it was still a little surprising. Have none of you people seen Breaking Bad? And if not, why? Or more importantly, why?

Of course, I am scheduled to go to San Francisco on Jessica’s birthday, when filming is allegedly going to be complete, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it runs over, as filming is wont to do. Apparently the film crew will be equipped with helicopters to film the chase sequences, so maybe they’ll give me a lift if need be.

Every month at the jobette, we feature a different artist and try and have a theme for First Friday, the day we and other downtown businesses stay open late and pour wine and serve nibbles, alomg with book signings and meeting artists.

This month, we featured the fine woodworking students’ work from our local college, which was displayed at a gallery on Main Street this month. The students installed a wonderful window display at the jobette. Here it is from the inside – I couldn’t get an outside shot that wasn’t totally glare-y:

This is a very prestigious program, and students apply from all over the world for one of the 22 available spots. The students must be dedicated to their craft: they will be at school six days a week, eight hours a day. As you can see, however, the time is well spent.

This set is inspired by “Mad Men” and is called “Don and Roger”:

Here’s a better look at the top of the “Don” table, which certainly conveys the complexity and elegance of the mysterious Mr. Draper:

This corner cabinet is beautiful in itself:

But when you open it, the door looks like a wing, and you can see that the texture of the wood inspired the artist to make an altar to his totem animal, the owl:

It’s a very spiritual and moving piece. Guy, I thought of you when I saw it.

This was my favorite, an exquisite roll top desk with elegant, willowy legs:

So feminine! And so cleverly designed: the roll top vanishes into the body of the desk when it is rolled back.

I’m so proud of these young artists and what they have achieved. Their fiutures look bright – and beautiful.

It’s been a cold winter by California standards: at or below freezing many nights, though as I said before, the clear days are sunny and the nights are starry. The Ridge is often icy in the morning, and there is hard frost on the grass at the side of the road, looking all winter wonderland.

I know that doesn’t seem all that cold to all of you back East, where they keep the real weather in all its extremes, but your house probably has insulation, and you probably have heat in your bathroom. You probably also have closets and walls that don’t curve and more than three feet of counter space, too.

But Chez Suzy, the flash heater is located outside, instead of inside, the way it’s supposed to be, even out here in the boonies. For those of you wondering what this contraption is, it heats water on its way to your shower or kitchen sink (not the washer, though – that’s only hooked up for cold water). This winter, the shower has been just about warm enough, not quite, which is kind of unpleasant with the window in the shower blowing a draft on me in the cold mornings.

I figure this is because the water is being pre-cooled outside. But last week, it started getting colder. And then it was just plain cold.

Rob came and took a look at it, but it’s not really his forte. I emailed Mark about it, and he replied with some suggestions that didn’t help. A couple of days without hot water and it got pretty old, not at all like “Little House on the Prairie”, as you would think.

We called in the cavalry in the form of my brother, who took the flash heater apart – well, the plumbing part. Even a fireman didn’t want to start in on the gas part, and if it came to that, I’d have to take the whole thing to Willits to the one guy in the entire county who can repair one of these expensive German contraptions.

Apparently it is top of the line and costs something in the luxury neighborhood of $700 or $800. Jonathan complimented the German engineering and reminded me of one of our father’s old jokes:

“Heaven is where the police are British, the cooks are French, the mechanics German, the lovers Italian and it’s all organized by the Swiss. Hell is where the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, the police German and it’s all organized by the Italians.”

Dad was never afraid of the politically incorrect.

Jonathan discovered a mini pebble in the works, so small that it’s hard to believe it was the big problem, and a valve that was sticking. He removed the pebble and lubricated the sticky valve and voilà! The flash heater was restored to mediocrity instead of freezulation. Mediocrity never looked so good.

Jonathan mentioned that he has some insulation we can put on the outside pipes to help make it warmer, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying the (relative) warmth.

Update: I picked up and installed the insulation. I guess the water is a little warmer, though I still don’t need at add cold water to my shower, which I was kind of hoping for.

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.

The other day I gave Rob a ride home from the Big Town. As usual, we had fun chatting in the car, and it was really hard not to look at the spectacular pink and gold sunset over the ocean. One of the many drawbacks of driving is that you can’t really admire the scenery, even though you’re driving right through it.

At Rob and Megan’s house, I carried in the Chico bags of groceries while Rob brought the dogs in. When I got home and started changing out of my work clothes, I discovered that my mother’s silver bracelets, which I wear every day, were missing.

My heart sank, and I looked through my pockets and handbag. Nothing. By now, it was too dark to look in the car or the driveway, but I thought that perhaps I had taken them off at the jobette and left them on my desk. I do that often when I have a lot of typing to do.

The next day, I looked in the car and the driveway and asked Megan to search her house and driveway. Arriving at the jobette, I rushed to my desk and there they weren’t. I asked my coworkers to keep an eye out for them, and called Starbuck’s, where I had met Megan and Rob the evening before. I talked to the girl who had closed that night and she said she hadn’t seen them. She checked the lost and found, and nothing.

Megan texted me later to say she hadn’t found them, either. I was surprisingly upset by the loss, and tried to tell myself that we shouldn’t get too attached to things and objects, but inside I just wanted to cry. We don’t have much left from our parents, so what we do have is especially precious.

Later in the day, I was putting things away in the storage room when I spotted my bracelets by the side of the sink. I had taken them off the day before when washing the dishes! I grabbed them and ran to show Erin, who hugged me and said, “Yay!” That pretty much summed it up for me.

Well, hello there!

Things have been really busy (and somewhat stressful) at the job and jobette ever since I got back from San Francisco. And as you know, work = no fun = nothing to blog about. I have the last three quarterly due diligence conference calls at 6 am on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday this week. Then I have to write up all ten of them, arguably the hardest and most time-consuming part of the process.

We had a little spot of rain the other day, but other than that, it’s been what my sister calls “Junuary”, sunny and in the 50s during the day, though cold and starry at night and frosty in the morning, the Ridge glittering with ice. I was surprised to see in the paper that we have received 27 inches of rain this season, versus 19 inches at this time last year – must have been those early season storms. Last night I noticed the first full moon of the new year beaming through the skylight of the sleeping loft.

I made a little time to head over to the property a couple of days ago. I realized that I hadn’t seen my brother for exactly a month, ever since Christmas Eve. Megan and the dogs came with me, and together we inspected the orchard in progress, which will be right next to the garden they created about this time last year.

There will be apple trees, peaches, and cherry trees. Olives and almonds are under consideration, as are raspberry bushes. Jonathan thinks they will have to electrify the fence, like the one around the bee hives. Otherwise, the bears will move right in and eat everything.

I picked up a hitchhiker this past week. I know what you’re thinking, but I only pick up people I know or the occasional woman. This was an older lady, who turned out to be a delightful German named Heidi, who has been visiting here since the 1970s. There seems to be a mystical connection between Germans and the County. My fabulous stylist is from Germany, as was Rose, my house’s previous owner and occupant. Even Rob was born in Germany. I asked Heidi what brought her here in the first place, and what kept drawing her back.

She said, “We Germans find all the best places. And there is nowhere on earth like Mendocino.”

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.

Weirdsday was followed by Funday.

I went to get my hair cut by the delightful Angelika, the same miracle-working stylist who beautified it in honor of my grand birthday last July. Here’s her little salon:

One of the good things about the iPhone is that I can add a note to her phone number with the directions to her house (go to the 3 mile marker; turn left at the power pole with the orange wrapping, etc.) so I won’t have to ask her every time. Since the looming photo shoot for the work website is the reason for the emergency haircut (not that I didn’t need it), I wonder if I can get my boss to pay for it?

We had a great time chatting and she did a wonderful job. I had just enough time to hop back in the car and go meet Erica and Jessica at our usual spot in the redwoods:

Jessica settled into the backseat with her little bag – she definitely travels light, though she brought four books* with her – and we set off for Hooterville with the winter sun filtering through the canopy of trees. I asked Jessica if she minded if I stopped off at the post office, and she said she didn’t mind, but she’d prefer to stay in the car. Post offices, she said, are boring, much like grocery shopping.

I asked her if it wasn’t fun to help pick out things to cook, and she said “Well, I’m a kid, so I don’t have a say,” which was a good point. It made me wonder all over again why on earth Dad piled us all into the car on Saturday mornings to go to the Victory Market (New York State) or Don’s Shop & Save (Maine) instead of just going by himself. And we didn’t get to pick things out, either. Though we did get to go to the library afterwards.

Back home, we dropped off the car and headed over to Megan’s. She was laying a fire in the stove and chopping things up for pizza. Megan made the pizza while Jessica and I played Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders. Guess who won nearly all of the games?

We happily watched the first Harry Potter movie with the pizza, and later, some candy canes left over from Christmas. They weren’t classic flavored, but they did turn our tongues blue and green, which was even better. After that, Jessica and I headed back to my house, where I had a bed made up for her on the sofa. I left the heater on for her – I didn’t think it was fair to make a kidlet wake up in a 42 degree house, and I must say that it was pretty nice waking up to a warm house in the morning.

It was pretty nice to wake up to Jessica, too.

*A nice selection, too: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland; Matilda by Roald Dahl; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and a Nancy Drew, The Bungalow Mystery. I’m glad that Nancy Drew still holds her eternal appeal, more than 80 years since they were first published.

When I arrived at work on Wednesday, my co-worker Erin told me that when she arrived at work that morning, she found both front doors unlocked. There’s a door that leads to the lobby, and another door that goes into the shop/office. Erin went in and called out, looking for intruders. Fortunately, no-one had decided to set up camp in our bathroom or steal our computers – or the many bottles of wine in the conference room – but we both found it unnerving.

We had left together with a couple of the guys still there the night before, and apparently they didn’t think to check the doors before they left by the back door that leads to the alley where we park our cars.

Speaking of the alley: when I went out at lunch, there was a police car in the alley, blocking my car with its lights on and windshield wipers going. A glance down the street revealed the police themselves trying to wrestle a screaming person to his or her feet outside of a bar. By the time I came back from bringing Monica glossy magazines and a bag of food for the rescue dogs, they were all gone. I was glad that Megan wasn’t at work, since I’m pretty sure they were headed to the ER.

Then I got the email from my boss telling me about the repeat performance in the city next week (though having said that, he still hasn’t made the appointment with the photographer and/or told me about it, so stay tuned).

All in all, a pretty weird day, all the way around.

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!

For a small coastal community, there are a lot of fun things to do around here. Sometimes it’s hard to choose which one to attend, like when I went to Sallie’s choir recital instead of the tree lighting ceremony and lighted truck parade in the Big Town.

Weather can also play a part. The Festival of Lights at the beautiful Botanical Gardens was cancelled several times in late November and early December due to the heavy storms which wouldn’t take the hint and leave. But finally, one clear, starry evening, the time was right for me to stop by and enjoy this winter wonderland.

Come on in through the lighted gate:

Follow yonder star:

The cacti looked so dramatic against the evening sky:

Don’t be afraid of the giant spider:

This weeping willow looked like fireworks to me – a shower of sparks and sparkle:

Looking up through the branches:

One thing I noticed as I wandered around the Gardens is that the lack of ambient light really makes light displays like this stand out. So darkness isn’t all bad, even though I don’t like driving in it. I should be more like Galileo, who said, “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

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.”

Decisions, decisions! Last Friday, there was the tree lighting ceremony in the Big Town, to be followed by the Lighted Truck Parade. It was also First Friday, the day that shops and galleries stay open late, and I should have stopped in to see my colleagues, but I had other plans.

Going to church.

It was very possibly the first time I had been to church since my father’s memorial service eleven years ago, and that was in a Quaker meeting house actually built and attended by William Penn. You know, the guy who put the Penn in Pennsylvania. It was nearly 400 years old and beautifully simple.

The church in this case is one of the best known and best loved landmarks in the Village (and is also both a national and a state historic landmark), built in 1867 of local redwood to replace a much smaller building put up a decade earlier. Here’s how it looked then:

And here’s how it looks now:

Fortunately, I had brought my trusty little flashlight, which has taken up its winter residence in whatever handbag from the Suzy Collection that I happen to be carrying. It was pretty dark in the Village, despite the occasional streetlight and the welcoming light from the church’s beautiful windows:

I scored a cushioned pew right next to the heating vent – bliss! – and about 5 rows from the altar. After taking off my coat, I looked around. This was my first visit inside this little jewel box, and it is just beautiful:

I could easily imagine the chandelier and wall sconces lit with flickering candles instead of eletcric light bulbs. It’s hard to tell from this picture, but the cross is beautifully hand carved:

Those are little white paper doves on the holiday decorations.

I was there to see my beloved swimming teacher, Sallie, sing in a choir. In addition to teaching swimming to grown-ups and kids, she is also an addiction counselor, and somehow still finds time to go to practices and perform in a choir. She is the petite girl on the left in the front row:

Sallie is radiant when she sings – she just glows. I told her that after the performance and she said that she loves to sing. It definitely shows!

It was an eclectic program, including spirituals and songs from all over the world, as well as a hymn or two and Christmas carols. For “Ave Maria”, the choir split up and some went into the choir loft:

which produced an ethereal stereo effect for the haunting song. In one of the spirituals, there was a line about how Mary had only one child, which made me wonder how that happened. Assuming Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were real, you’d think that birth control would have been an issue back then.

And although “Silent Night” was my beloved maternal grandmother’s favorite carol, the “Holy infant so tender and mild” part always make it sounds like you’re going to eat him. But I kept these thoughts to my silly, shallow Self (at least until now).

When the performance was over, I greeted some friends and chatted for a while before heading home under the blazing stars. It was a magical evening.

Before

After

Well, the storm kicked our collective butts for about 10 days, dumping 8 inches (20+ centimeters) of rain, taking the power out twice in Hooterville (and keeping it out in the Big Town for a selected few residents for a week), and closing the road to civilization twice as well. Then it blew away, leaving wreckage in its wake, but almost laughably blue skies* overhead:

Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor.

As you can see, I am going to need a couple of cups of Rob to fix the passion flower vine. It will have to be unwound from the wreckage of the tree and relocated, I think. The purple honeysuckle is still lying beside the house. Its trellis will have to be mended somehow. It braved all the storms last year, but this year it’s been having a hard time. I looked at my blog from this time last year, and I was still watering the garden instead of the Almighty doing it, as my atheist father used to say.

Anyway, we look set for fair skies for the next few days, though that does mean that the nights are pretty cold. It’s been hovering around the 32F/0C mark outside, and the 45F/7C mark inside when I get up in the morning darkness. But it’s like someone has turned up the stars and planets – they blaze and glitter against the black winter sky.

*Sorry about the Batman angle, but I took it from the car when Megan was driving.

The power came back on before I got home on Wednesday night. Apparently the valiant PG&E crews repairing the downed power lines also came across some faulty equipment, which they repaired, though this took some time, and the power was out for about 9 hours.

It then went out again from about 10 pm until 5:00 am. Later that day, my brother came by with his soaking wet clothes from fire calls and put them in the dryer. Apparently someone had called in a burning vehicle right near Megan’s and my address, adding that a “late 30’s male” was at the wheel. Worried that it was Rob, Jonathan raced to the scene, only to find a downed power line and no car or driver or anything burning. The theory is that someone thought they’d get a faster response if they said it was a burning car, and they did, so their naughtiness was rewarded.

This is often the case with grown-ups, kiddies. You didn’t hear it from me.

As I mentioned, the jobette gave me Saturday off due to the ominous weather reports. We also canceled swimming, and it was weird, yet delightful, to sleep in on a Saturday and not have to work or drive to the Big Town or anything. I took advantage of the break to put up Christmas decorations, which I have been dying to do since before Thanksgiving, thanks to North Star Nursery’s incredible Christmas tree display. Megan and I went there to get things like garlic to plant and ended up spending an hour in a holiday wonderland.

Putting up the tree before Thanksgiving is just wrong, as well as taking up valuable floor space when you are expecting a dozen people in your housette, so I waited like the faux adult I am. But I wasted no time in decking the halls before the rain started again.

As usual, I forgot how annoying, sheddy, and hard to put together my vintage tree is until I was actually dealing with it and it was snowing all over the rug. I love having an artificial tree in a house surrounded by trees, but I am seriously considering getting a real live one in a pot next year which I can put outside with its homies when it’s not Christmas.

Eventually I wrestled the tree up:

Like last year, the cats have ignored it so far, but I don’t expect that to last.

I also put up the traditional banister lights:

And this year, I put up lights on the back deck instead of the front balcony, mostly for the selfish reason of being able to enjoy the show from the comfort of my couch:

Last night, the weather folks warned that this third storm would be worse than the earlier two which took the power out both times, and it was pretty scary. The rain was pouring down hard, and the wind was howling ferociously for hours on end. I was up most of the night because it was too loud and unnerving to sleep. Having an unnerved Clyde sleeping on my head and neck didn’t help. Roscoe also did his best to take up as much bed real estate as possible, while biting my hand when I least expected it. I tried putting a pillow over my head when Clyde wasn’t on it, but there was no shutting out the storm’s roar.

This morning, I got up aching and exhausted, feeling about 103 years old, but happy that the power was still on. I was less than pleased to note a three foot wide puddle in the kitchen and an even bigger one in the pantry/laundry room.

Right before I left for the jobette this morning, the power went off and on a couple of times, and then off. I called PG&E on my cell phone, and was unfortunately the first person to report the outage on this dark and stormy day.

The Ridge’s ditches were full of water and the road all the way to the Big Town was scattered with fallen twigs and even branches. The storm is supposed to go on for next few days, so I may need to borrow my brother’s extra generator.

I called to check on the status of the outage and the recorded voice was discouraging due to “widespread power outages” and said to prepare for extended periods without electricity. At the jobette, they said not to come in on Saturday, since no-one will come in during a driving storm, and it looks like the road will be flooded and closed, so we won’t be able to pick up Jessica and go swimming, either.

At least I can enjoy the warmth and light at the jobette for now.

[Update: Power is back on! And I have a generator and two full cans of gas, thanks to my wonderful family. We are slated to get more storms over the next few days, so I may need them. Stay tuned!]