Suzy Says

What else is there to do on a rainy day?

Not much has been happening here in Hooterville, other than the seemingly endless rain. I have the heater set at 64, and it keeps coming on and burning luxurious propane alarmingly often, since the temperature refuses to get out of the 40s outside. It’s dark and depressing, too. Even the cats don’t want to be out there.

Hopefully, Game Two of the World Series, which is scheduled for 5:00 this evening in beautiful San Francisco, will not be rained out. The Giants have never won the WS in their California incarnation, and the last time they won the title was way back in 1954 and way back in New York. So here’s hoping.

I voted by mail the other day. Even if it’s not raining, I’m too lazy to go and wait in line. My natural impatience and slothfulness forbid it. But my grandmother, who did not have the right to vote until after she married, impressed on me the importance of voting, especially for women. So I’ve never missed an election, even when I lived abroad.

There were the usual passel of murky propositions to wade through. It’s remarkably time-consuming to read all the pros and cons and make up my fluffy mind. I had no hesitation, however, in voting for David Eyster to replace the District Attorney who gave poor Aaron Vargas nine years in prison for killing the man who molested him for years. Or in voting for Jerry Brown. If Meg Whitman buys the governorship of this great state, I’m moving to Canada.

You have been warned, Canadian readers!

As for Thanksgiving, we may have a change of venue. Lu is heading to Arizona to visit her family, and Megan is going to stay at her house and take care of Lu’s dogs. We’re trying to decide whether to have Thanksgiving at Lu’s place instead of mine.

In favor of Lu’s place is that it’s a real house, with real heating and a real kitchen. There’s even actual high speed internet and cable! Imagine! And there are three bedrooms, in case some or all of us don’t want to drive home. Also, it’s about five minutes from the Safeway, always important when dealing with T Day.

Against it is the longer drive for Erica and Jessica, the difficulties of making a big dinner in an unfamiliar kitchen, and the sentiment of having it in your own house, however humble.

What do you think?

My grumpy Sunday (and my house) improved dramatically after Rob’s arrival.

With Megan at work and the rain pouring down outside, it was a good day to work inside.

Rob installed the propane heater in the studio, which involved more than I expected. Lots of pipes and doodads, turning the gas off, and other things that are far beyond my limited ability to understand. Not for the first time since moving to the country, I wish I’d spent more time learning practical things like plumbing and wiring and less time learning impractical things, like irregular French verbs.

Here’s the new heater in all its glory:

Rob painted the wall behind the heater before putting it in. And yes, that is a tea chest being used as a stair.

He also put shelves in by my desk:

Here’s the other side:

The silhouette is my mother as a young girl. Through the window, you can see the new passion vine.

The barometer fell off the wall and slightly dented the brand-new floor:

Notice that Rob added baseboards. When he does something, he does it right.

He fixed my faulty barometer hanging, and also the loose glass in the clock, which he also rehung:

They’re made of galvanized steel and I bought them with my Dad in Greenwich a long time ago. I guess my decorating scheme could best be described as sentimental.

After all that home improvement, we had dinner together and watched “Viva Las Vegas”.

All’s well that started badly!

Sun after rain

Well, we got five inches of rain in 24 hours, according to a neighbor’s rain gauge. So it wasn’t just my whiny Self – there was a lot of rain. We’re supposed to get more on Thursday, but I’m going to pull a Scarlett O’Hara here and think about it tomorrow.

Today it’s bright and sunny and the trees are sparkling, but it’s still cold, in the low 40s. Waking up to the sun after a good night’s sleep made a difference to my outlook. As I made coffee, I reflected that I really shouldn’t complain about the lousy day I had yesterday compared to my sister, who worked five 12 hour shifts last week (Monday through Thursday, then Sunday), and is now facing her usual Monday through Wednesday. I can’t imagine how tired she must be.

The uninspiring view from my porch

It’s not even 9:00, and I’ve already had a lousy day.

Audrey woke me up around 5:30, growling at the kittens and bashing at the balcony door. I reached for my glasses on the bedside table, but couldn’t feel them anywhere. I turned on the light and “looked” as best as a girl can who is practically legally blind can do in the early morning darkness.

No go.

I felt around in my slippers before putting them on and feeling my way down the stairs, clutching the banister. I thought this had Calamity Suzy written all over it, but I made it safely to the bathroom, where I located my second pair of glasses. Thanks, Dad, for training me to put things away in the same place!

I let Audrey out into the howling storm, amazed that she actually preferred being out in the cold, rain, and wind than staying inside the (relatively) cozy house.

With visions of power outages dancing in my head, I grabbed a few buckets to fill with water, getting immediately soaked in the process. Someone had unplugged the hose, so water spewed out of the side of the house instead of the end of the hose. I squelched into the bathroom from the back deck door, and realized that the shower would never fill one of the buckets. I grabbed a pitcher and started filling it in the sink, emptying it into the buckets while the kittens got in the way and got wet.

After that, I decided to do the dishes, and discovered that the flash heater was out. No hot water for dishes or a shower. Rob should be coming by any time to work on the heater, so hopefully I can prevail upon him to help me.

I heard dripping. The tap wasn’t dripping. It was the roof, right in front of the couch. I got a pot and put it under the drip. I felt a drip on my head. Another drip, another pot. Then I noticed a huge wet spot right next to the TV. Yay!

I was running out of pots and patience. I called Mark, but got no answer and left a message. I can’t imagine where they could be at 8:30 on a Sunday morning. Kids and old people (as I learned in Florida) never sleep in.

While making the bed, the kittens clawed me so hard that I got blood on the sheets.

Add in a severe attack of the Evil Allergies, with sneezing, nose blowing, and itchy eyes and nose, plus the fact that Audrey hasn’t come home yet, and you have the perfect recipe for a rotten day.

[Later] She finally showed up, refused to eat, and bit me.

A year ago today, I moved to Hooterville.

Last year, it was warm and sunny. This year, it’s cold and rainy*.

Last year, I had my beautiful June Bug and my sweet little Henry Etta. Now they are gone, and I have the two rambunctious kittens to make me laugh, drive me crazy, and ease the aching of my heart. My precious Audrey is the same as ever, thankfully.

Last year, I had the moving-related knee injury and the gravity-related full body injury. This year, I’ve managed to remain major injury free (touch wood), though of course there have been the occasional Calamity Suzy incidents. It just wouldn’t be me otherwise.

Last year, I was too injured to go trick-or-treating with Jessica. This year, try and stop me. Erica asked Jessica if she’d rather go with her friends this year. Jessica said, “But Mom! I need my entourage!”

Last year, there was a lot to do in the house and garden. This year, there’s just the bathroom floor to paint, the new heater to install, and plans for the garden for next year. I’d like to have a table and chairs in the garden, and some lounging chairs on the balcony, as suggested by Jessica**.

Over the past year, I have come to appreciate and love my little family even more than I already did. Last night, I thought about how many things that make my house more comfortable and livable were brought to me by Rob. The Suzy proofed loft; the curtain rods; the CD shelves; the cat doors; the towel bars and shower curtain rod in the bathroom, to name a few. Looking around, I am surrounded by love.

*Everyone is blaming me for bringing down some kind of bad weather curse on Hooterville. Maybe Christine O’Donnell can help.

**While doing her homework the other day, she asked her mother if she had spelled “manifest destiny” correctly.

Study in curves

Well, I have a cold and a half.

It’s hard to diagnose accurately, since I now have year-round allergies. It’s all this Nature, I’m telling you. I never had allergies when surrounded by nice, healthy concrete and skyscrapers.

But yesterday, I realized that the headache, body ache and sore throat, along with all the sneezing, coughing, and nose blowing, meant that I was sick. And then there was that stoned feeling, and not in a good way.

So I spent the day in bed, surrounded by kitties. For the first time I can remember, all three were on the bed, with only the occasional hiss from Audrey. I was amazed that Audrey spent nearly five hours curled up on the bed. It may have had something to do with the fact that it was cold and foggy yesterday (whereas today is all blue skies and open doors), but I like to think they knew I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to keep me company as I sneezed and watched “The OC” all day.

The most strenuous things I have done today were heat up chicken noodle soup (while wishing it was the much more fun chicken and stars) and pour ginger ale. I’m still wearing my kitty PJs at 3:00.

Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow.

Now a warning?!

I noticed this on the side of the house yesterday. I had never noticed it before, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. I’m incredibly unobservant. If I were a witness to a crime, they’d never catch the guy (or girl). Not that I’d notice.

Rob was over working on the floor, and he hadn’t noticed it, either. But he did notice that one of the boards on the side of the house was rotten. It probably has something to do with the outdoor shower. Or maybe that’s what the house was telling us to be afraid of. Even if it can’t spell. It’s not surprising that such a quirky house doesn’t know how to spell. What else would you expect of a place whose light switches say “NO” when they’re on?

Here you can see the damage and the board Rob is going to use to repair it:

But it will have to wait until the floor is finished. It’s been a much bigger (and longer) deal than I expected. The filler had to set, then be sanded, then primer was applied, then more filler:

You can see the tape line between the old and the new. After the foyer is done, the bathroom is next. The picture certainly makes the green look much less acidic lime than it is in real life.

Next Rob will sand the latest filler and then prime again. Then it will finally be time for the floor paint, which I will not be allowed to walk on for 24 hours. Maybe more. It’s all up to Rob. When he does something, he does it right.

Inside the hive

Megan and I checked on the hive yesterday with our brother. There isn’t as much honey as we hoped, and Jonathan thinks that maybe the Queen isn’t very productive. It’s hard to know, since these bees just volunteered, taking over the hive after the Italian Blondes died out last winter.

This year, the bottom of the hive is sealed, so they won’t freeze like the earlier batch-o-bees. I’m looking into feeding trays for the winter, and pretty soon it will be time to start making sugar water for them again.

We talked about mite control. We don’t know if mites contributed to the earlier bees’ mortality rate. We’re reluctant to start medicating them, so we’ll probably get some special sticky paper to put in the bottom of the hive and see if any mites fall onto it. If they do, we’ll deal with it then. I wonder if these bees are mite resistant, since they are local and just turned up.

We also might get a new Queen and bees in the spring and set them up in a separate hive from the first one. Decisions, decisions!

The boys have been busy working on a solar array, which is a frame to hold solar panels. They have invented a way (out of found materials) to make the frame tilt at different angles for different seasons, to get the most out of available sunlight. My brother gets all his power from these solar panels, whose energy is stored in giant batteries. And he gets all his water from the well the boys dug last winter. I don’t think there are too many people in this country who could live as spartanly as he does.

The beginning of the end

The hideous lime green floor’s days are numbered. That’s the kind of doom I can get behind.

Rob came by today and started prepping the floor. I have to admit that if I did the painting, I would just slap on the new paint and hope for the best, thus carrying on the grand tradition of slapdash painting jobs in my house.

But that’s not the Rob way.

He fixed the many screws whose heads were peeking out above floor level, scraped it down and sanded it.

Next, he filled in the many dirt-trapping holes, and when that’s dry, he’ll primer and paint it with the floor paint I bought a few months ago. Notice how I got right on it.

He’ll have to find a way to keep the curious kittens out of the way. It will be interesting to see that.

Once the foyer is finished, he’ll do the bathroom floor, which is tiny and weirdly shaped. Maybe it will dry faster.

I’ve been thinking about getting a vine-y plant to twine charmingly around the new-ish rustic window. Of course, I never have any idea what to get, and my plant dreams are about as realistic as my day dreams.

I wanted to grow a Kaffir lime tree and a Meyer lemon (after all, the mean old lady next door had a lemon tree when I lived in Oakland, and if a mean old lady can have one, I should, too) but apparently it’s too cold here in the winter. So I’d have to pot it, which would eventually kill it if I didn’t plant it outside, and keep it inside in the winter. That didn’t seem like an option. Same went for the fantasy of bougainvillea, preferably orange. I’ve loved it ever since I first saw it on the French Riviera thirty years ago, but alas, my life is fated to be non-Riviera in every possible aspect.

Megan brought me down to earth and helped me select a plant that may actually work.

It’s a purple honeysuckle. Rob came by and repotted it for me:

Clyde found this fascinating, even after Rob started watering it:

It took a long time before he realized that he was getting wet. Then he was out of there.

Roscoe was completely uninterested, and climbed a tree instead:

Later, Megan came by and said that the honeysuckle needed something trellis-like to climb on. She also doubts that it will drape picturesquely over the window, but we’ll see about that.

Rob found some tree branches and made a really cool trellis, which looks great with the window*:

While he was at it, he brought over a clipping from the passion flower vine which covers the back of their house. He also cut down a couple of trees which had partly fallen over from last winter’s storms (you can see some of that in the background of the picture) to give the vine more light:

Because more light = more flowers. And the flowers are fabulously outer space looking:

Bonus: they make that delicious orange passionfruit!

Now that I’ve got the house more or less in order (there’s still the hideous lime-green floor to deal with), I’m hoping that next year I can focus on the garden. I’ve mostly cleared out the garden of its weirdness and would like to get a table and chairs, as well as more plants. Right now, it’s mostly rhododendrons and huckleberries. I’d like to have a more inviting outdoor space.

*If you’re wondering what that corrugated panel is, it’s a heavy duty plastic-like thing which lets light into the sleeping loft. It’s behind my bed. You can see a little of it here, behind the sleeping Henry Etta. Those were the days.

Putting in the carpet took longer than we expected. You know how it is. Mark’s visiting nephew came over and helped us put all the furniture back before it got dark.

The whole house has that new car(pet) smell!

Here’s a close-up of the carpet:

It’s called “Granite”, and I’m so lucky that Monica gave me such an amazing deal on it. I can’t tell you how much it’s improved my tenuous mental health. I guess that sounds a little silly, but it’s so great having a clean, pretty carpet instead of the stained old one.

Look how pretty it is:

And it looks fabulous with my gorgeous birthday lamp (as seen from the balcony):

Here you can see the rocking chair my great-grandfather made for my great-grandmother. It has mother-of-pearl inlay and it’s been in my room since I was a little girl. More importantly, it’s Audrey’s throne – I fold up the green throw and put it on the seat for her each night. The radio is an Atwater-Kent from 1927. The speakers are hidden by a tapestry showing a castle:

I’m beginning to feel like I’ve applied a veneer of civilization to my place, however thin!

Study in pink*

Thursday was an exciting day.

Mark came by in the morning and said he was ready to put the new carpet in the sleeping loft. I ran upstairs and started hauling everything I could onto the balcony. It’s a good thing that the balcony is so big and so close. I’m pretty sure the balcony is actually bigger than the loft.

I needed help with the bed, bureau, and wardrobe, though. Mark took the headboard off and then we could move the bed onto the balcony and be horrified by all the spiderwebs behind it. Even Martha Stewart would find it hard to wiggle behind the bed and dust where the curved walls are about one foot high.

When Erica and Jessica stopped by, they were greeted by the old carpet and under padding, which had been tossed off the balcony to the graveled parking area in front of the house.

While Mark worked on the carpet, Jessica and I picked and ate huckleberries and talked about life in general. She finds school too easy, and says the teacher isn’t strict enough. This is something I would never have said at the age of seven. Or any age, really.

While Jessica and I hung out, Erica was at Jessica’s school, getting their version of things. Jessica is the smartest kid in the class (and probably the school), but doesn’t want to bother spending time on the boring, easy work. She wants to jump ahead to fun things, like cursive and advanced math.

When Erica got back to my place, she explained to Jessica that she’ll have to do the boring work first, and only then will she get to do the fun things. She suggested that Jessica see how fast she can get it out of the way, so she can spend more time on fun activities. Somehow I feel there’s some kind of lesson here for me, too.

*Erica made the coat out of faux fur. Isn’t it fabulous? It wouldn’t look out of place with that recent Vogue pictorial.

Well, well. Look who’s relaxing in town!

I’m getting really frustrated trying to figure out how to embed videos into my blog posts*. I can find zillions of “how tos” for YouTube videos, but nothing useful on how to display my own videos. At least I’ve been able to upload these minor masterpieces to Facebook.

You can see the one I took of Star and Schatzi today here. It’s more Star than Schatzi – she races into the woods and is messing around in there while Star is running around. The movie looks like there was an earthquake, but it’s only my ineptitude as a camerawoman. The location is the family property. Notice how nice the road is.

Star is wearing her Thundershirt. I interviewed their creator a while back for an article I was writing, and he very kindly offered to sell me some for half price on behalf of Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue**. He’s a really nice guy. Thundershirts have an 85% success rate in calming dogs, whether they’re afraid of thunder, loud noises, the car, the vet, or any other stressful situation. If it doesn’t work for your dog, send it back and your money will be refunded. What’s not to love? We’re hoping they’ll be helpful with rescue work.

I got to see the Thundershirt in action today. After letting the dogs run around at our brother’s place, we went to Mendocino. After a stop at the foggy farmers’ market…

…where I picked up, among other things, a serpent cucumber and tu-tone summer squash…

…we took Star for a walk in the village. We met a kind man who agreed to give Star a treat and pet her carefully, and she didn’t bark or flinch. One of the obstacles to her adoption is that she sometimes barks at strangers, because she isn’t sure if they’ll hurt her or not. So this was great practice. I really think the shirt helped, because she had her tail up and was wagging it. She never barked or flinched at strange people or dogs. At the top of this post, you can see her actually relaxing outside a shop…with people walking by!

She gets an A, and an A for effort, too!

*I’ve come a long way from a girl who couldn’t take pictures a couple of weeks ago!
**Feel free to “like” us on Facebook!

For those of you who have been waiting to see James’ tile work in Megan and Rob’s bathroom, here you go! I think it’s really pretty. And like I said, if there’s anything suggestive there, it’s pretty subliminal. It looks like a flower to me.

You will all be happy to hear that Rob and Jonathan worked their usual magic and got Megan’s car working yesterday morning, long before she needed it for her final night shift of the week. It’s hardly surprising that the poor old thing needs repairs lately – there’s over 200,000 miles on it. And those aren’t nice, easy city miles, either.

Yesterday was a pretty exciting day. It kicked off with Roscoe showing up with a dead mouse. Audrey decided to one-up him and show him who’s really boss by showing up with a giant bird in her mouth. Even though it was in the 80s yesterday, I kept the doors shut until the cats stopped playing with their prey. My stepmother always used to say, “Nature is red in tooth and claw”, but that doesn’t mean I want it in my house.

Erica dropped by, after looking at a disappointing house near the school. The landlord wanted a lot of rent, and there was no outside space for Jessica to play in. This seemed incredible to me, considering we are in the depths of the country. So it was a no go. I realize that I was really lucky to get this place, despite all its quirks, since there are hardly any places to rent and what is available is expensive. I hope she finds something soon.

The thermal underwear Megan and I ordered for Rob’s birthday arrived belatedly. Of course, it arrived when we’ve been having a string of 85 degree days. But I’m sure he’ll be glad to have it when the storms of winter arrive in a month or two.

Also in advance of winter chill, a propane heater I bought on eBay arrived (it’s difficult-to-impossible to find propane heaters for sale in California). It’s slated to go in the unheated, uninsulated studio, in the hopes of making it slightly more usable and habitable in the six months (or more) we have of winter. The boys will of course have to install it, though hopefully we’ll have some time before it gets really cold. These days, it’s hard to believe that it will ever be dark and rainy.

Finally, the new carpet for the sleeping loft arrived! Yay! I can’t wait for Mark to replace the old, stained one, even though it means moving all the furniture out onto the balcony. The carpet was delivered by the fabulous Monica’s sweet husband, Joe, and now it’s in the still unheated studio, waiting for me to trip over it in Calamity Suzy style. Stay tuned!

Living on the edge

You may have noticed that I rarely complain about work, when I can and do complain about almost everything else. If there were an Olympic complaining event, I’d be clanking with gold medals, a living legend. Though I’d probably still complain about the Olympics and how they’re constantly on TV*.

Part of this has to do with the fact that my boss is a comfortable 200 miles away, and has no idea that I’m wearing pajamas during conference calls (or doing them at the beach while walking dogs). Also, he’s been my friend for fifteen years, and we sometimes go to ball games** and plays together.

My commute is pretty easy, other than the kittens getting underfoot as I lurch down the stairs in the morning. Sure, I often end up working at night or on the weekends, but I don’t have to go to an office from 9 to 5, or brave the perils of BART.

My sister, however, doesn’t have it so easy…

She worked for 14 hours on Monday, arriving home late Tuesday morning. She didn’t sleep well in the sunny, warm day (it was probably 85 here, and it was a scorching 103 in Santa Rosa and 113 in LA), and woke up, sleep-deprived, to face another 12 hour shift on Tuesday night.

To make matters worse, she discovered that her car’s steering mechanism had gone on a sudden French-style strike and refused to work. You really don’t want to be driving the switchbacks around here with no steering. I don’t think Megan was that anxious to meet her old buddies on the ambulance.

So she borrowed my car to go to work. She was already late, and had to stop and pick up a car part so our brother could work on the car today. Halfway there, she realized that she had left her cigarettes in her car. She arrived at the store about five minutes before the store closed, and said she was picking up a part.

“What part?”

“I don’t know. It’s a steering thing.”

“For a ’96 Saturn?”

“Yes!”

“Your brother called and said you wouldn’t know what the part was.”

$114 later, she was out the door and on her way to Starbucks. She took one sip – one sip before a 12 hour night shift – of her expensive coffee before it spilled all over due to the stupidity of the cup holder design in my car. Minutes ticking away, she cleaned it up as best she could and went to get gas for the car, since the gas station was right there.

She pulled up to the pump and discovered she was on the wrong side. Turned the car around, put in her credit card, and discovered that the pump was broken. Went to another pump, and discovered that she was on the wrong side again. She gave up and went to buy cigarettes – a necessity at this point – and rushed to work.

As she went through the ambulance bay, she asked one of her former colleagues to pick up a coffee for her, which he cheerfully did.

This morning, she dropped the part off at our brother’s place, and he and Rob will hopefully be able to fix the car in time for tonight’s night shift.

*My cure for Olympic boredom? Make it all pay-per view. Then all of you who really want to watch it can pay for the privilege, and the rest of us can go on with our lives, uninterrupted by the seemingly endless ennui that is the Olympics. That, or restore to its original semi-nude form with only original games allowed.

**Go, Giants!

People have been asking to see the inside of my odd little house. Here goes:

Come on up the front stairs. Which are at the side of the house. The window is where my desk is (you’ll see it later).

The staircase to the sleeping loft is right in front of you when you walk in. Rob made the picture frames from found materials. He’s the best upcycler I’ve ever met.

The staircase landing. The railings are made of driftwood.

Here’s my desk, where the magic happens. It’s right next to the bathroom:

Where you see Audrey enjoying the window in the shower. Who doesn’t love a shower with a view?

The door leads to the back deck and the outdoor shower.

Walk back to the door, and you’ll see the main living area.

The painting is “Russian Hill”, by Keith Wicks. It shows the neighborhood I first lived in when I moved to San Francisco. It’s my little piece of the city.

Here’s another view of the living room, showing the sliding glass doors to the garden.

View from the sliding glass doors to the sleeping loft and balcony.

View from the sleeping loft to the living area. To the right you can just about see my heirloom Wedgwood, which dates to the 1820s, and the edge of the wooden chests containing my grandmother’s ivory-handled silver and fish set.

To the right of the sliding glass doors is the kitchen(ette). You can see that I have not been exaggerating about the lack of counter and cupboard space. Yet I can and have made Thanksgiving for ten people here.

And we’re back to the front door. Come back and visit again soon!

Star (left) and Schatzi take a break at Big River

Yesterday, Roscoe decided it would be fun to kill a bird and play with its mangled corpse all over the house, tossing it gleefully into the air, catching it again, and running around with it in his mouth. He was utterly unconcerned by my screams of horror. Eventually, I managed to sweep it into a dustpan and toss the poor thing into the woods with an apology. To the bird, I mean, not Roscoe.

I was unable to determine what kind of bird it was from the shredded remains – it would take far more skilled forensic eyes than mine – but I was surprised by how big it was. I’d say it was more robin sized than sparrow sized – pretty impressive for a three month old kitten.

I took a break from the drama to walk the dogs with Megan at Big River. It was a beautiful day, and the dogs trotted along happily together. Star has come a long way since we first rescued her back in April, thanks to Megan’s hard work and dedication. We’re hoping to find a permanent home for her, but it’s no easy task. It’s a small community here, so there’s a limited pool to draw from. Then there’s the economy – people are more likely to be surrendering dogs to shelters than adopting them.

Finally, the fact that she’s a black pit bull. Apparently black animals are less likely to be adopted, which makes me feel all the better about adopting Roscoe and Clyde. But it doesn’t help our chances of finding a family for Star. Megan and I talked about it as we walked in the late summer sunshine, and she and Rob would be happy to keep Star if it comes to that. The down side, though, is that they will be unable to foster any more dogs unless they move to a bigger place. Fortunately, Star and Schatzi get along well, even sleeping together.

So Audrey woke me up around 4:30 this morning. As I let her out onto the balcony, I noticed that it was flooded with moonlight.

I put on all the outdoor lights as usual, my talisman against predators, and went back to bed. The kittens took this opportunity to start climbing all over me like I was their personal jungle gym. I kept moving them away, and they kept bouncing back, like furry boomerangs. I finally gave up, and after a while I got up.

Amazingly, they stayed upstairs and are presumably enjoying the sleep I didn’t get. Sometimes I wish I had a bedroom door. Or walls.

On the bright side, I’ve been able to make coffee, and more importantly, drink coffee unmolested this morning, a truly enjoyable novelty.

Yes, world: I’m grinchy enough to be annoyed by kittens.

But you knew that.

Yesterday, I (temporarily) dumped the kittens in favor of dogs. Megan was meeting a friend in the village to help socialize Star. While they worked, Schatzi and I played, walking around and taking pictures:

You are here.

Shadowy gate.

The secret garden.

Wild rose trellis.

Naked Ladies beside a white picket fence.

Looking at these photos again, it occurs to me how timeless the village looks. It could be any late summer day in the past hundred years or more.

Early rain, early morning

Wow. Has it really been almost a week? What have I been up to, you ask?

Well, there was unseasonable rain the night of Rob’s birthday and into the next day. I attempted to capture the rain drops on the trees (see above) with the new camera, which I am learning how to use. I even shot a movie of the kittens’ feeding frenzy (complete with plaintive, loud meows), but am trying to figure out how to save it. QuickTime 7 doesn’t support this and in order to do so, I’d have to buy the “pro” version, which I really don’t want to do. If/when I do, I’ll see if I can post it here.

So far, the hardest thing to get used to with the new camera is the lack of viewfinder. Instead, there’s a giant screen thingie, which you have to use to frame the picture and then take it, something of a challenge when you have bi-focals and bad vision. So I’ve been practicing, and you’ll be able to enjoy my homework as this post rambles on.

For example: the driveway was unable to withstand the rain:

Post-rain driveway

We nearly got stuck in the mud, and I have to admit to some concerns about the upcoming rainy season. Mark had a guy here today smoothing it out and applying more gravel, but I’m not convinced that the problem is really solved. I guess time will tell.

Gratuitous photo of the “Rust Room” in my garden

I’ve been busy with work, which is good. I like feeling efficient. It’s such a novelty! But it doesn’t lead to blogging. Neither does helping my brother clean out the house he lived in for fifteen years. You can acquire a lot of things and stuff in fifteen years, especially if you’re a part-time mad scientist. For example, I am now storing a giant and valuable Tesla coil in the studio, wrapped carefully in blankets.

The tiny picture above is the only one I could find of my brother’s house. It’s at the end of the driveway, and Mark is now fixing it up, adding a bathroom and the like, since there is currently only an outhouse and a bathtub, which is in the livingroom. It has windows on three sides, looking at the woods, and the fourth side is open to the livingroom, which may not be to everyone’s taste. Same goes for the stairs, which have risers well over a foot high, with a stump as the final stair at the bottom and a post at the top carved into a phallic shape. James was an eccentric builder, to say the least*.

So after I was finished work for the day, I’d head down there and help clean up. As you know, I find manual labor distressing. And it’s even more boring than regular work and even less blog-worthy. By the time I got home, had a shower, and put on my PJs, it was all I could do to mix a cocktail and read Style Rookie before falling asleep with wet hair. Which makes me glad that most of my work is done on the phone.

*When Rob was finished adding the bathroom onto his and Megan’s house, James offered to do the tilework in the shower. Megan said okay, providing that the tilework was devoid of any human anatomy or even the suggestion of it. It’s a lovely abstract design. If there’s any subliminal messages there, they’re very subliminal.

Before

After

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Maybe the crazy gene has finally caught up with me, since I kept trying to make my old camera work, and voilà!

I was actually surprised by how much better the house looks – I guess I’d forgotten last year’s “construction site” look. In the second picture, you can (just barely) see Audrey to the right, and Roscoe running down the stairs.

Next month, it will be a year since I moved here. On the day I moved in, Rose’s daughters and their families scattered her ashes in the ocean. Somehow it seemed like a good omen, an ending and a beginning.