Suzy Says

Today’s sunrise

I woke up this morning to the comforting sound of the propane heater downstairs. I set it for 52 degrees before I went to bed, so I knew it would be a chilly morning. But for the moment, I luxuriated in the warmth of my bed and the fact that the kittens were snuggled up to me, purring. Audrey hadn’t even asked to go out yet. It was about 6:00 when I checked the Moonbeam clock on my bedside table, so she was running late.

She scampered out into the darkness as I put on the outside lights and made coffee. Six in the morning does a very good imitation of midnight at this time of year. But when the sun comes up, it’s dressed to the nines. Or even the tens (see above).

We made the most of the sunny weather this weekend. We’re slated to get another front of storms starting tomorrow, so we’ll have more rain to join the 30.38 inches we’ve already accumulated. But in the meantime, it was great dog walking weather.

On Saturday, we took Star and Schatzi to Navarro Point. I had reckoned without the windiness by the ocean, and regretted not wearing a hat, though Megan’s kept getting blown off. It was a good test of the expensive sneakers, which strode jauntily through the mud and streams, leaving my feet warm and dry.

I loved the look of the wintery blackberry hedges in the foreground. They are such a beautiful reddish brown and look like something out of a fairy tale. Maybe surrounding a wicked witch’s house:

Here I liked the windswept look of both the sea and sky:

We were glad to get back to the car. Well, not the dogs.

On Sunday, we met Lu and her two dogs at Big River. It was another beautiful day, so there were lots of other people and their dogs, cyclists, and people riding horses. I am proud to say that Star behaved herself almost perfectly, not barking at strangers or horses. Megan did a lot of work with her on heeling, sitting, and staying. Schatzi, as usual, was off doing her own thing, stopping to sniff long enough that I could take pictures of the river, here:

And here, through the winter trees:

We walked them for about two hours. So far, I think I’ve done a pretty good job keeping my “walk dogs more” resolution. Talk about a fun resolution to keep!

I spent most of the day in bed yesterday, bemoaning the fact that my relationship with the cats isn’t a little more reciprocal. Instead of bringing me ginger ale and chicken soup in bed, they played outside in the sunshine all day, only coming in for meals and the occasional nap.

Despite my nausea, they refused to clean out the litter box.

I’m pleased to say that a day of lounging, reading the delightful Duchess of Devonshire’s memoirs* and watching “Daria” seemed to cure whatever ailed me, and after that early morning bulimia imitation, there were no encores. Today, I have successfully braved two thimbles of black coffee with no ill effects, so I’m hoping that I’m more or less back to normal (whatever that is).

Luckily, my personal hero, Mr. Amerigas himself, arrived noisily in the Thursday evening twilight, just as I was beginning to despair. He told me not to worry that there was only 15% in the tank, and merrily filled it up as I breathed a sigh of relief. It’s good to know that a girl can have a shower, heat her house, do laundry, and wash dishes if she is so inclined.

Happiness is a full propane tank on a sunny winter weekend.

*Deborah is the last remaining of the remarkable Mitford sisters: Nancy, the writer, Unity, the Hitler acolyte, Jessica, famous for writing “The American Way of Death”, and Diana, the beauty. “Whenever I see a headline starting “Peer’s Daughter”, I know one of you girls is in trouble again,” sighed their mother, Lady Redesdale.

I was woken up in the early morning darkness by a headache instead of by Audrey.

I took a couple of ibuprophen, made some coffee, and let Audrey out. I drank the coffee while reading my emails and waiting for the pills to work. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by a stomach ache, which got increasingly worse until it became clear that the coffee and pills were to be only temporary visitors.

I ran out into the dark garden and said a painful farewell under the stars. This summoned Audrey from whatever is so important for her to do in the early morning hours, and for once, I wasn’t all that thrilled to see her. Some things are better done alone. Not for the first time, I contemplated the methods of bulimics with confusion: why put yourself through this voluntarily?

As being sick goes, though, in the fresh air under the trees is about as good as it gets.

Fortunately, I had some ginger ale along with the emergency water stash, and had that with some chicken soup later on. So far, so good, other than a lingering headache and stomach ache and that “out of it” feeling so familiar to all of us at one time or another. I must have picked up a bug along with the groceries yesterday.

So far, I’ve pretty much spent this lovely, sunny day in pajamas, reading and sipping ginger ale while the cats play in the sunshine. Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow.

Reflections

Yesterday was Twelfth Night, so it was time to take down all the holiday decorations and face the fact that the days of presents and candy are, sadly, over for another year.

When I put the stockings, wreath, wrapping paper, trees (both metal and gel) away in the storage loft over the bathroom, I noticed a whole bag full of my handbags. After I put the decorations away, I looked through the bag of bags and rediscovered some fabulous old friends.

I liberated them from the darkness and have decided to use them more often. I also enjoyed using my grandmother’s silver at Christmas so much that I’m now using the matching fish set every time I have fish. It does make life prettier.

Accessorizing is so important.

Today, a handbag I bought for half price in New York came with me on errands. It did make the mundane seem less ordinary. When I came home, Luna and I took a walk together, where we came across the puddle you see above. I have to say that a sunny winter day in Hooterville is a beautiful thing. The skies are a clear blue, the ocean’s surf still spectacular from the last set of storms, and the sun warm. It was hovering around the freezing mark (32F/0C) when I got up this morning, but it’s about 50F/10C now. The rarely-reliable weather forecast says this should keep up until Tuesday. And I didn’t even have to use up one of my flying wish papers!

Closed until further notice

Or until I get around to moving the fallen trees/debris from the last storm, whichever comes first. I know which way I’m betting.

This means the secret path between my house and Megan’s is out of commission for now, so I have to go the long way around, using the driveway. It adds a whole 30 seconds, or maybe even a minute, to the commute. The driveway is slowly drying out from the onslaught of the last storm, which dumped about five inches of rain on us in as many days. It was so wet and mushy near the front house that the Amerigas guy took one look, turned his giant truck around, and bailed.

That was last Thursday, and he’s scheduled to reappear this Thursday (aka tomorrow) to make a second attempt. I hope he makes it, because the propane is lower than 20% now. When I first moved here, they told me that I shouldn’t let it go below that point (though I’m not sure why). In the meantime, I’ve been cheaper than ever about heat and hot water.

Hopefully Amerigas is more reliable than AT&T. You may remember that my landline suddenly stopped working a couple of weeks ago, and I never did get it repaired. I’ve been surviving on cell phone only ever since, though with only one cell tower for a big county and large areas of no service – including certain areas in my house – I’ve had to accept the reality of missed calls, dropped calls, and bad reception.

What light through yonder tree breaks?

Don’t read this too loudly, but it’s sunny outside.

Shhh!

It was the “s” word yesterday, too, for the first time in a couple of weeks. Maybe longer. I went outside, blinking and confused at the unnatural light, feeling like a mole. Or a vampire. My eyes!!

I decided to take a walk along the logging road which runs behind my house. In the year I’ve lived here, I have yet to hear any logging or logging trucks, though I did run into the law once. Yesterday, however, was a law-free day. Come on and I’ll show you around.

I was amazed by the Technicolor green moss. It really is that color:

And the fallen bark and pine needles make a beautiful pattern:

A couture log, wearing ruffled finery:

All the rain we’ve had has resulted in winter green…

…but also erosion. The lack of rain in the summer leads to wildfires, which in turn leads to mudslides when it rains in the winter. But the erosion revealed the sculpture of the roots:

Near the end of the road, I came across this fairy-tale looking bower of lacy trees:

On the way back, I walked into the sun and admired the view:

As I reached the path to my house, I stopped, lifted my arms and face to the sunlight and just breathed, in salutation and joy.

Planting flowers seemed like a good way to welcome the new year, so yesterday, Megan showed me how to plant the tulip bulbs which I found in my Christmas stocking.

I have to say it was a banner year for stockings, maybe the best ever. Mine included flying wish paper, the Fantod Pack by Edward Gorey (darkly hilarious tarot-type cards), and a package of Purple Passion tulip bulbs:

I’ve been keeping them in the refrigerator since Christmas, and it was time to plant!

The soil here is too acid to grow much, so almost everything has to be planted in containers. Megan lent me one, and we found a disused pot in my garden.

First, we put in a layer of pottery for drainage. It helps to live in the former home of a potter, with boxes of broken pottery close at hand:

Luckily, the disused pot had potting soil with pearlite in it, so we recycled that, putting it on top of the broken pottery, and adding extra potting soil as needed:

Next, we added sand – easy to do when you live near the ocean:

Then a layer of sawdust, from last winter’s chainsawing of storm-fallen trees:

Mix it all up with your hands, other than the pottery base. Or get your sister to do it while you take pictures:

Then place the bulbs, sprout side up, in the cushy bed you have made for them:

Cover them up with a light layer of potting soil, so they don’t have to struggle to push through it:

Place the pot in a sheltered area, so the bulbs don’t get soaked and rot before they can bloom. We placed the containers beneath the overhang at the side of the house. It started raining (surprise!) before we finished planting them, so we didn’t have to worry about watering them. They’ll self-water until they bloom, in February (next month!) or March (almost next month!). I can’t wait.

Festive shelf in my living room. Megan gave me the lit-up wax bird, and Monica gave me the snowflake ornament.

My first complete calendar year in the country. It was a year characterized by loss and sadness, not just for me, but for nearly everyone I know and love. Here’s hoping the new year is kinder to all of us.

This year also marks the first full calendar year of tracking the books I read. I read 140 books this year.

And I started tracking rainfall for this winter. So far this season, which started early, in September, rainfall totals are 29.21 inches in Hooterville through the last storm. Yesterday the flooded Highway 128 (aka the Road to Civilization) opened after being closed for a day due to flooding. This happens every year, usually more than once, making us even more isolated than usual.

As for my resolutions for this year, I’d give myself a C. I tried to keep up with my emails, but mostly didn’t. I only had one Calamity Suzy incident, and it was pretty minor, compared to last year’s rib-breaking fall from the loft. As for unpacking and organizing, also nearly complete. Everything is unpacked, but the studio and pantry are still in need of organization. I’ve been good about categorizing blog posts.

Even though we all break our resolutions, I’m going to try and worry about the cats less (and walk the dogs more). I will try and be more positive, though overcoming my native pessimism, especially in the face of continued bad luck for the past decade, may prove too challenging for the slothful dilettante. Also work on the “garden” to make it a better outdoor living space.

Here’s a recap of the year that was. Wishing you all a happy and healthy 2011!

2010

January: The New Year starts off with a sob at the death of the Lovely Rita. I learn the terrible truth about Key lime pie. An earthquake reminds me who’s boss. So does a thunderstorm. The disgusting Compost Conundrum rears its stinky head. My house’s, uh, eccentricities. The first power outage of the year. Fourth Sunday breakfast (and book sale)! Escape to the City. Extreme take-out. The glitz and glory that is Cartier.

February: Dr. Karen opens her new office. The ailing Henry Etta. Banking bullshit. The haunting Gene Clark. A day at the Citrus Fair. Another power outage. The charitable yard sale. A successful adoption.

March: An evening of music and magic. Bee boots. Rain and storms, and lots of ’em. Dad’s birthday. A taste of summer. The beginning of the end for Henry Etta. New cat door. A tea party. hail storm. Henry’s last picture.

April: A sudden loss. Saying goodbye. A quick trip to San Francisco. A walk at Big River. The story of Henry. Suzy the criminal. My blog turns nine. Accidental activism. The great Dog Rescue adventure. The writer.

May: Birthday covets. Schatzi’s injury. Endless winter. Megan’s birthday. Girls’ night out.

June: My annual haircut. Megan’s knee injury. The terrible loss of the Beautiful June Bug on my birthday. Disastrous triplette to Santa Rosa to try and lift my spirits. Local bees take over our hive. The big driveway remodel.

July: The painting project begins. Megan’s knee surgery. A visit from Jessica. Ribollita soup. The slow recovery. Turkey enchilada casserole. Dream vacations substitute for real ones.

August: A room with a view. The driveway project is complete. Rhubarb and berry crumble. The high price of housework. New window. Unexpected visits. The arrival of the kittens! Naming the kittens. First vet visit.

September: Home improvement. Chicken Pilau. Megan is back at work. My house: before and after. Another visit from Jessica. New camera. A tour of my house.

October: New carpet! New plants! North Indian Style Spinach Chicken. Checking on the bees. Beautiful Audrey. Be Afraid. Kittens at play. The floor painting adventure. Anniversary. Audrey and Clyde get closer. More home improvements.

November: Halloween. The Giants’ World Series Champions Victory Parade. Day of the Dead. Solar panels at my brother’s place. Sausage and Bean Casserole. A breakthrough for Star. A trip to the city. An evening at the theater with Erica and Jessica. World’s most expensive sneakers. Back home. New Harry Potter movie. Hailstorm. The Thanksgiving that wasn’t. Thai Chicken Soup. A visit from Jarrett.

December: Holiday lights and storm prep. Meatloaf Suzy Style. Christmas decorations. New hose and rain gauge. The boys turn six months old. Curried Lentils. Sunlight and shadow. Un-Christmas presents. Paul comes to visit. Vertigo. The death of the phone. Parsnip Vichyssoise. Christmas.

The other thing that happened on Weird Sunday was that the phone line expired. Or quit. Or went on strike.

Anyway, the phone didn’t work.

When Megan called me, it just rang and rang, so she came over to investigate and found me in the previously mentioned dizzy state. The power was already out, so she tried the Bat Phone (the see-through corded one I have for the inevitable power outages every winter), but got no dial tone.

She sent Rob over, and he spent some time checking things and stuff outside and inside, before finally saying that whatever was wrong was beyond his considerable abilities. This both surprised me and made me realize that I finally have the ideal phone: one that never rings.

So I fired up my cell phone, and have been using it ever since. The down side to this is leaving it on all the time, instead of checking it a couple of times a day for messages. It has a distressing propensity for ringing, usually at inopportune moments, since it’s my work phone. But at least I’m not totally incommunicada.

Someone is coming out to check on/fix the phone tomorrow, sometime between 8 am and 8 pm. If they get here during the latter part of the twelve hour picture window they have allotted themselves, they’re going to have a really hard time seeing anything out there in the country style darkness. Also, I hope they call me for directions, since there’s more than one house at this address.

At this point, though, I’m kind of wondering why I’m having it repaired at all. I haven’t really missed it, and it would save me $35 a month if I just cancelled it. And cell phones allow you to send a call straight to voicemail, unlike regular phones (why is that?). Does anyone really need both a cell phone and a landline?

Before

After

It took me over a year, but I finally have country-appropriate footwear. At least for winter.

In the second image, you can see my hard-won sneakers which cost as much as my beautiful Manolo Blahniks (in the first image) did in a consignment shop about 10 years ago. I just bought some pull-on rain boots, also in the second picture, which are just the thing to slip into to run over to Megan’s or check on the bees. Notice how I was able to find cute rain shoes.

I think we can all agree that the shoes from my city life are really not appropriate for my country life.

So, wearing my appropriate sneakers and my one fleece, Paul and I are heading to town today to get the materials for a splendid Thursday night dinner, which has the outstanding characteristic of Not Being Cooked by Me. It’s great when your visiting friend just happens to be a professional cook who caters to the stars in the Hamptons in the summer.

Last night, I was trying to get some dish from him on his celebrity clientele. Here’s what I got. He catered a fashion shoot for one of the Olsen twins, but couldn’t remember which one it was. He also did an event for Jerry Seinfeld.

Me: Did you meet him?

Paul: Yeah.

Me: What was he like? Was he nice?

Paul: Sure. He seemed pretty nice.

Me: (still trying) Was he funny?

Paul: Well, he didn’t give me his opinions on world events or confide in me or anything.

At this point, I realized I wasn’t going to get anything good, though you’ll be pleased to hear that Jerry is a good tipper. I promise you will, however, hear all about tonight’s dinner in all its glorious detail. Maybe even tomorrow.

Lately, I’ve been trying to capture the look of sunlight and shadow at different times of day.

Maybe it’s human nature, or maybe it’s Suzy nature, but having a better camera has made me want a much better camera. Getting closer to catching a moment makes me really want to be able to get it. Maybe one of these days. In the meantime, step into my laboratory and have a peek.

Afternoon sunlight on my front door. I liked the texture of the wood and the patina of the doorknob in this light. Also the lacy look of the shadows against the rough wood.

The side of the house looks kind of magical in this light.

The reflection of the shade at my desk on the bathroom door.

Morning light on the sleeping loft (before I put my beautiful lamp away in a kitten-induced huff).

You know your life is thrilling when you’re excited about getting a new garden hose. And a rain gauge.

The old hose was suffering from leakage, including the rotted out area where it connected to the faucet. Using the hose was much like revisiting the garden sprinkler of my youth, but it was much less delightful when fully clothed and with temperatures hovering around the freezing mark (you will find this is true of many things).

Buying a new hose was on my To Do list for a while, so it was especially satisfying to finally get one.

I unscrewed the old one and dragged it to the pile of things and stuff which Mark keeps promising to haul to the dump for me. It was surprisingly heavy. Also, I hope we really do get the things and stuff hauled to the dump before Paul gets here. Everyone likes to act as if they live much more elegantly than they really do when they have company.

I attached the new one and turned on the faucet. Alas, it still squirted me. Hmmm. I took it off and put it on again (the hose equivalent of rebooting your computer) and tried to tighten it again, but the results were still much wetter than I wanted. Rob has one more thing on his endless To Do list. Little does he know!

More successful was the rain gauge. I wanted to get one so I could complain accurately about all the rain we get. For once, it turns out that I am not wrong. Hooterville got fully six inches more rain than the big town with the Safeway in the same time period.

As you can see, the rain gauge only goes up to five inches, so it will give me the opportunity to practice my rusty math. I installed the rain gauge on the balcony, making sure that there were no trees nearby to block precipitation. The other night, we got about .75 inches. According to last week’s paper, Hooterville had received 17.3 inches for the season to date, so that brings me up to 18.05 if my math is correct.

Given that it’s supposed to rain for the rest of the week, I should get lots of practice in basic math skills. And I won’t need the hose.

“You know, deck them halls and all that stuff.” — Lucy Van Pelt

Today the traditional three hour tour took four. And I still didn’t get everything done.

At the feed store, my order of kitten food and cat food were tantalizingly on the truck, which had not yet been unloaded. They weren’t sure when the unloading would take place, so I gave up on that and went across the street to buy a hose and an emergency light. I’ve lost one, and want to replace it before it’s needed. They looked at me like I was nuts and kept trying to sell me a flashlight. I have two flashlights, and I know where they are. I want a lantern-type battery powered lamp to read by when the power goes out.

And yes, I do know the difference between a flashlight and a lamp.

On to the hardware store, where I found a passable lamp, and bought Megan and Rob a coffeemaker on sale. Not for Christmas, for now. Rob came over this morning with the sad newses that the coffeemaker had irrevocably broken (and when Rob says that, you know it’s true) and that one of his ceramic projects had also been irrevocably broken. I had just admired it yesterday. He was putting it up on a shelf to keep it out of harm’s way when it fell to the floor and shattered. Sigh.

So I figured he wouldn’t want to wake up to no coffee tomorrow, and that Megan wouldn’t want to wake up to no coffee this afternoon. I got home around 1:00, so I was home well before she’d need caffeination. Though it also meant that the pharmacy was closed for lunch (it closes between 12:30 and 1:15, and the post office closes from 12:00 to 12:30), so I’ll have to try again another day.

I did, however, manage to buy some outside lights for the balcony, and put them up as soon as I got home. I love how the rain looks like snow in the picture – so festive!

If I can get over myself – and I think we can all agree that this is the hardest kind of recovery there is – I’ll risk climbing up the ladder to the weird storage space above the bathroom to get the wreath for the front door and the lights for the banister. I’m not even daring to think about a Christmas tree this year, though we could take bets on how long it takes to knock it over and which kitten does it first.

It’s a sunny morning, and you know what that means. It’s still barely 32F/0C outside. I’m drinking hot, black coffee from my tiny, as yet unbroken cup. The kittens are sharpening their claws on the records (a few days ago, I discovered the damage they had done to the Martin Denny section and walked away, counting to a thousand and reminding myself to be zen). The kittens have an amazing ability to tell which things are really important to me. A few days ago, they broke one of my grandmother’s antique wine glasses, and I finally packed up my birthday lamp and put it away when they knocked it over eight too many times.

Audrey has left the house in kitten disgust, as she does after every meal, and Schatzi just strolled by in her bright blue sweater.

I used to try and bring her back home, but mostly, by the time I’d put on shoes and another sweater, she had wandered off again. Now I look forward to her brief, tail-wagging visits in the morning.

Perusing the local newspaper, which is published once a week, I came across the following classified ad: “GOATS WANTED for brush control not for eating. 9xx-xxxx”

Country living.

The soup turned out okay, not great. I added bamboo shoots and water chestnuts. In retrospect, I should have chopped up the bamboo shoots for easier eating, and added snow peas for some green. Glass noodles would have been a good addition, too.

If I make it again, I’ll mince up the garlic and ginger, or use some of that lemongrass paste you can get in a tube. It was annoying to dig it out while eating. I’d also add more chili paste, or possibly red curry paste. Though we added more lime juice when it was in the bowls, it kind of needed something, we’re not sure what. Oh, well – it was good to try something new.

Thai Chicken Soup

1 can (14 oz) coconut milk
1 can (14 oz) chicken broth
6 quarter-sized slices of fresh ginger
1 stalk lemongrass, cut in 1 inch pieces
1 pound boneless, skinless breast, cut into 1 inch chunks
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon Thai chili paste
1/4 cup each fresh basil and cilantro, julienned

In medium saucepan, combine coconut milk, broth, ginger, and lemongrass, and bring to a boil. Add chicken, lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, and chili paste. Reduce heat and simmer until chicken is firm and opaque, about 10 minutes. Serve garnished with basil and cilantro.

After I made the soup, I decided to go for a walk beside the ocean. The coast here is rough and rocky:

so more often than not you’re likely to be walking along those dangerous cliffs than on a sandy beach. These particular cliffs are not far from the Hooterville post office.

It was a clear, sunny day, though the temperature was only about 45 degrees (up from the morning’s 27). Here it seems that in the winter, clear = cold and rainy/cloudy = warmer. I guess the clouds act as insulation. But on Thursday, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky:

Well, maybe one.

I know, I know – you’ve already read in “People” and the “National Enquirer” that I was at the the new “Harry Potter” movie on Friday, along with much of the country’s population. Granted, it is a little unusual for this country mouse to go out twice in one week – and in two different towns at that – so maybe I can understand all the media attention.

I was glad I had my nails done when I saw the guys from TMZ, though.

There were at least TEN PEOPLE, maybe twelve, in line in front of us, so I was at the paparazzi’s mercy as the line edged slowly forward. “Suzy, is this your life partner?” (No, it’s my sister. Yes, there isn’t much resemblance. No, I’m not lying.) “Suzy, is it true that Robert Pattinson and Daniel Radcliffe are really feuding over you?” (No comment.) “Suzy, are you going to replace Emma Watson as the face of Burberry?” (No comment.) “Are you going to get popcorn?”

It was relentless, I tell you. I was quite exhausted by the time I bought my ticket – you’d think they would have comped me – and ran to grab seats while Megan bought popcorn, giving the paps the answer to at least one of their questions.

My nerves were so frazzled that I could hardly bear the constant talking of the people behind us. One of them spent the entire movie explaining what was happening to their companion. Seemed to me that it would have been easier to read the books or see the other movies first so they’d know what was going on, but what do I know? After all, I’m probably a space alien in disguise.

Other than the ad hoc soundtrack, we both enjoyed the movie and are looking forward to the sequel in July. I couldn’t help but notice that a certain Draco Malfoy bore a surprising resemblance to a certain young man I know. Coincidence?

It was a beautiful day to take the dogs to Big River. It was also one of those days you get in Northern California where it’s in the thirties when you wake up and you’re wearing sweaters with the heater on in the morning, and by noon it’s in the sixties or even seventies, and you’re walking around in a t-shirt and wishing you’d worn your shorts.

The early rains we got this season meant that the little streams and brooks beside the path were laughing merrily over the water-smoothed stones. The dogs were happy to have a drink, though of course they also enjoyed the muddy puddles. Maybe puddles have extra flavor.

Even though I know they’re pests and all that, I thought the plumy pampas were a great contrast with this witchy tree and the spiky hill in the background:

I loved the look of the red fallen needles on the path:

The girls had a great time sniffing and bouncing along the path. Since it was such a nice day so late in the year, we ran into a lot of people. We were proud of how well the dogs behaved, even though one woman picked up her child when she saw that we had pit bulls. I’m sorry to say that this is not an uncommon experience, this dog racism. It did make me extra glad that the girls were so well-behaved.

One couple who immediately recognized the dogs as pit bulls had the opposite reaction. The husband had worked for many years training guide dogs, and he had Star literally eating out of his hand within minutes of meeting her. He asked if he could take her for a short run and bring her right back. We agreed, though later Megan and I both confessed to each other that we had about a half second hesitation in handing her over to a total stranger. The wife stayed with us and we chatted amicably.

Soon Star and her new friend came running around the corner of the path. I don’t know who was happier.

(You’ll have to click on the “StarMovie” link twice to see the movie. And wait for it after the QuickTime logo appears. It was so hard to get this in here at all that you’ll just have to go with it. Sorry about my technical shortcomings.)

StarMovie

Notice how she sat and was petted at the turnaround point. And the joyful leaps on the way back. It’s amazing how far she’s come since the first arrived in our lives.

On Sunday, Megan and I got our chores out of the way in the morning, and then she came over to my house for a fun, girlie afternoon.

First, we put a load of her laundry in, and made ribollita soup for that night’s dinner. As usual, we had the ingredients between us, and as it simmered away, we watched “Sex and the City 2” and did our nails. We enjoyed it as much as we did when we saw it at the theater in the summer. It’s been a not great year with not great weather, and neither of us can remember the last time we actually went on vacation or even left the state*, so we need all the escapism we can get.

People have been asking me where the Thursday night dinner recipes are. The sad truth is that I haven’t made anything new recently. So this week, I have vowed to make something new. I have a couple of ideas in mind, but suggestions and recipes are always welcome!

*With only one month left to go this year, I have gone to San Francisco exactly once, for one night. And that’s the only non-Hooterville place I have been this year. You can see why I’m planning to let my passport expire for the first time in my entire life, including childhood. You don’t need one when you never go anywhere or do anything. $100 is a lot to pay for wishful thinking.

Friends

Friday was cloudy and threatening to rain, but Megan and I took the dogs with us to run some errands in the village. Afterwards, we took them for a walk on the headlands. That’s the thing about being a dog: you never know whether you’ll get stuck in the Safeway parking lot or get to run around in the woods. Dogs are always hopeful. There’s probably a lesson there somewhere.

We parked near this sign. I have no idea what it means. What do you think? Love is a one-way street?

This one is much easier to understand, but it makes a girl a little nervous. Maybe Star should have read it last winter.

Apparently, she can read now.

Here’s the village in the cloudy distance:

And the bridge over Big River in the distance, too.

The ocean was feeling frisky, as it often does before a storm:

But you’d never know it to see the sky reflected in these still pools.

Even when the weather isn’t great, or we’re grocery shopping, or even driving all the way to Colusa and back in one day, I always have fun with my sister. I’m so lucky to have her in my life. And that goes for Star and Schatzi, too!

The other day, I dropped by my brother’s place to inspect the solar array. That’s what they call it when solar panels are mounted. Who knew?

Of course, since it was my brother and his trusty assistant Rob, the panels were mounted with found and bartered materials. A neighbor lent them the welder they needed to create the hinges and other mounting gear. They learned how to weld from books I ordered from the library. We were all kind of surprised that they had never had to weld before. They both enjoyed learning how.

Here you see the solar panels mounted on the shipping container:

My brother bought the shipping container when we emptied out Mom’s expensive and distant storage unit last year. Remember how fun that was? Especially for him.

The shipping container now holds that stuff, plus the batteries and other things that convert the sun’s power into electricity to give my brother light and power. I’m really proud of him for getting his power from the sun and water from the well he and Rob dug with their own hands. Plans are in the works for a windmill. More power to them!

Here you can see the hinges and fastenings that had to be welded.

The solar panels can be tilted at different angles for summer and winter, to take the most advantage of the sunlight. It’s always warmer at my brother’s place, since he lives in a meadow with trees at the perimeter, instead of right in the woods like his sisters do.

Here are other panels waiting for their own array:

When I had admired everything, I went to say hello to Henry Etta and tell her what had been happening lately. I also weeded around her resting place – still with its driftwood in place – and pulled out the starter manzanita and bull pine that seed themselves everywhere. Then I rearranged the leaves so it looked peaceful again. I find it comforting to know she’s safe and peaceful there.

After that, I took Star for a walk. Among her other qualities, it turns out that Star is what my brother calls “a good ranch dog”. This means that she stays in sight while they’re working and doesn’t get in the way or get startled by things like welding and power saws. Here you see her hanging out while they work:

After the walk, I got in the car to go home. I soon realized that Star was following me. I stopped, and when I tried to get out, she tried to get in. I started back to where the boys were working, and she came, too. I put her in Rob’s truck, but the windows were open, so she jumped out. I brought her over to the boys and tried to walk away, but she followed me. In the end, Rob held onto her until I was safely out of sight.