Suzy Says

For some reason, the Powers That Be decided that it would be a good idea to show the latest season of Emily in Paris in two parts, one in August and one in September. Megan and I could not have agreed less. We had been waiting a long time to find out what happened with Emily and her friends, especially after the cliffhanger ending of Season 3. Also, I am not known for my patience.

But the Powers That Be seldom, if ever, care what I think, so we had to go along with their schedule. On the other hand, it did give us two chances to hang out and spend time together, which is always good.

Before settling in with Emily and pizza, we took a tour around the garden, which was looking lovely:

I checked in on Clyde, who is sleeping peacefully under the chinquapin tree, his spot marked by a beautiful hand-made yellow glass marker. In late January or early February, his resting place will be covered with a blanket of yellow daffodils planted by Megan. I miss my sweet boy so much.

Back at Megan’s place, we cracked open some very good local champagne:

and toasted Emily and each other. It was delicious. I love champagne.

Megan decided that we would move our Emily watching activities to the bedroom, where we could relax on the bed as we sipped our champagne and delighted in Emily. It was definitely more comfortable, though being somewhat height-challenged, I was less than graceful getting on and off the bed, which is much higher than mine.

We had a great time. I love sister time!

A YEAR AGO: Enjoying the Fair.

FIVE YEARS AGO: You guessed it: at the Fair!

TEN YEARS AGO: Fun at the Fair.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Fleeing the heat.

Happy Friday!

It was a happy Friday at the real Happiest Place on Earth. Megan’s, Monica’s, and my schedules all aligned and we met for dinner at our favorite seaside bar.

Those among us who are not fans of being slightly chilled, like a fine Chablis, decided that we should sit inside. We were delighted to see that the inimitable Aiyana was tending bar, and she both made the delicious concoction you see above and gave us big, wonderful hugs. It was so good to see her.

We turned our attention to the wine list, following Dad’s edict to choose the wine first and then select the food. Megan decided on a rosé that was new to me, from nearby Fathers and Daughters. Drink local! It was delicious, refreshing and bright, with notes of tropical fruit without being too sweet.

We shared a delightful cheese platter as we contemplated the menu:

That’s quince mebrillo in the middle, along with Brie, Shropshire Blue, and Gruyère. Monica ordered the salmon special of the day, and Megan had soupe au pistou, which reminded me of the long-ago summer when I was 17. I spent it on the French Riviera, where I first encountered soupe au pistou and pesto, not to mention other delicacies that it was better not to know what you were eating. After finding out that bouchées à la reine had sweetbreads in it, and further found out what sweetbreads were, I stopped asking.

My salad was garnished with beautiful, edible flowers from the restaurant’s garden:

And was the perfect accompaniment to the light gnocchi, garnished with pine nuts:

Somehow, we managed to save room for a flight of desserts to share:

It was so great to spend time together, catch up on each other’s lives, and just be together. More and more, I realize that time is the greatest luxury.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Settling in to the beautiful new house.

TEN YEARS AGO: How to make faux pho.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Heading back to the City from the country (where I now live).

TWENTY YEARS AGO: It’s harder to get a cab in New York than you’d think.

Us Three, May 25, 2024

Years – well, decades – of Megan’s ER night shifts have gotten us used to celebrating birthdays and holidays on whatever day she is available near the actual day. So it was extra special and extra fun to celebrate Megan’s birthday on the day itself, May 25.

Of course, I was swamped with nostalgia, remembering the day she was born. I was called down to the office, and I was scared as I walked through the silent school halls, my shoes clacking on the shiny, waxed floors. As I walked, I mentally reviewed the things I had done that might have gotten me in trouble, and then divided them into the ones where I was likely to have been caught. As it happened, they told me that I had a little sister, which was a joy, and also a relief. I skipped back to the classroom, slammed open the big, heavy door, and breathlessly announced, “I have a little sister!” The girls all yelled “Yay!” and the boys all yelled “Boo!”.

Jonathan was definitely in the “boo” camp, then. He desperately wanted a brother. He said that in his school, they announced it over the PA, which I thought was pretty impressive.

More than half a century (!) later, I was wedged in the back of my baby sister’s car, as she and her husband of 32 years drove us to our brother’s girlfriend’s house to celebrate our birthdays. My baby sister usually drives when we are together these days.

We had a lovely dinner, and Jonathan and Rio gave us gifts, which we weren’t expecting (and which made me feel a little embarrassed, since Rio’s birthday is exactly a week after mine). They were really thoughtful, since they were aimed at helping Megan and me to deal with our work-related stress. Megan’s was some hilarious shower steamers, and mine was a massager gadget. You drape it where you want it to massage you and press a button. It is really great.

We had some of the cider that my siblings (and healthcare provider*) made last fall, and the Calvados Jonathan made about three years ago. It was delicious, and tasted to me as good as any I ever had in France.

After dinner, Rio took the photo above, capturing the love and happiness we all felt. Megan said, “It was a perfect birthday.”

*She rents the little cottage on Rio’s property. Due to Megan’s schedule, last year’s cider pressing happened on her day off, when I was at work. Yes, this is a really small town.

A YEAR AGO: A look around the family garden.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Moving day dawned bright and beautiful.

TEN YEARS AGO: Celebrating Megan’s birthday.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Planning a visit with my siblings. Littel did I know I would one day live in the same place!

TWENTY YEARS AGO: I was not looking forward to my birthday.

You may remember that the last time Megan and I went to our favorite seaside bar with our friend Monica, Megan temporarily lost her wedding ring. She found it right next to her chair in the garden, but it was clearly time to get it resized to avoid further, and possibly permanent, wedding ring loss.

She took the ring to our friend Chris, who has a jewelry shop in the Village and who also restrung my 30th birthday pearls a few years ago. It took him a little while to repair the ring. It turned out that the ring was no longer round after years of wear, and that parts of the setting needed to be strengthened and some of the small diamonds re-set.

It was worth the wait, though:

It looks better than it has in years. And like Megan, it is unique. We both really like it after all these years.

It was great to see Chris and catch up on each other’s lives. I admired the view from the shop on the way out:

It was such a lovely day that we decided to stop off at a café for a glass of wine and some nibbles. We were intrigued by the Honig Sauvignon Blanc, which neither of had tried before. Megan pointed out that two glasses would cost almost the same as a bottle, so we got the bottle:

It was delicious, and lived up to the description of “Bright, inviting floral, pear and citrus aromas lead to a lively and harmonious palate. Resplendent with jasmine and citrus notes that range from grapefruit to lemongrass and kafir lime, delightfully nuanced by tropical notes”. It must be be fun to be a wine writer.

It was so nice to sit in the pretty garden on a sunny spring afternoon, enjoying the flowers, sea breezes, and just being together.

FIVE YEARS AGO: In limbo.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Being stalked by a pigeon. Yes, a pigeon.

It seemed like a long time since we had a family dinner together, so we gathered at Megan’s place for some pizza from Café Beaujolais and some delicious rosé from the winery where our friend Monica now works.

Maybe it was the approach of Mother’s Day, but we ended up talking about Mom. We don’t often talk about our childhood, and I have to say, it is only recently I have really begun to understand that it was a little odd, to say the least.

Mom was bi-polar, and also suffered from serious post-partum depression. Again, this something I figured out in retrospect. Mom stayed in bed all summer after Megan was born in late May. I thought she was sick. After all, she went to the hospital to get the baby, and that’s where sick people went. Keep in mind, I was 9 at the time.

Despite being 9, I somehow ended up helping to feed and change Megan, and did the laundry. I still remember thinking that the smallest person had the most laundry, as I folded the diapers and onesies.

Before Meg was born, there was an incident where Mom dumped Jonathan’s Spaghetti-Os and milk over his head and then stormed off. My major concern at the time was that the tomato sauce would irrevocably stain his platinum curls, and that I would never get the stain out of his hair. I now realize that was the least of what I should have been worried about in this situation. Jonathan asked me if I remembered what he did to spark this, and neither of us could remember. I just remember the clean up.

Even though Mom didn’t work and had a car, we always walked to and from the school bus stop. We lived in the country, and our driveway was a quarter of a mile long, so it was at least half a mile and maybe more to the neighbor’s houses where the bus stopped. Yet there was never the slightest suggestion that Mom should drive us to the bus stop or to school. This only occurred to me over the past couple of years. And if Mom was even up when we were getting ready for school, she wasn’t making lunch or helping us to get ready. She was sitting at the dining room table with coffee and a cigarette.

She was kind of a ghost in our lives. I don’t have a lot of specific memories with her. Even though Dad worked full-time, he was the one who made dinner and read us bedtime stories and took us to the library and grocery store on Saturdays.

But Mom could be charming. We all had the experience of our friends saying how fun she was. Even at the hospital where she eventually died, the staff (and Megan’s co-workers) thought she was charming. We all said to each other that we just agreed with anyone who said this. I wasn’t going to tell them how she used to tell me, “You’ll never amount to anything. You’ll be a clerk in a dime store your whole life”, or how she used to call me up and reduce me to tears for no reason, or throw the phone at my head when I came downstairs in the morning. There’s no point. Let them think what they want. Their truth is also true.

I do feel sorry for Mom and the pattern of abandonment that plagued her whole life, starting with being left on the orphanage steps as a newborn and ending with her second husband leaving her as she battled the cancer that would eventually kill her. She should never have had kids, and I don’t think she ever got the treatment she needed that would have helped her to have a happier life. It must have been really hard living inside that head.

But I’m glad my brother and sister and I have each other, and I think our childhood, though difficult at times, helped us all to grow up to be people who work hard and don’t expect the world to bend to our whims. We all just suck it up and deal, and that has stood us in good stead.

It’s not surprising that Mother’s Day is hard for me, though. I avoid Facebook not just on that day, but for days afterwards. All the fuss just reminds me of what I didn’t have and will never have.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A wonderful time at the circus.

TEN YEARS AGO: A field trip for garden supplies.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Of cats and dogs.

Although Monica closed her shop a couple of years ago, she still holds pop-up events now and then. One of them coincided with a time that both Megan and I were available, something that happens all too rarely, given her ever-changing night shifts and my never-ending day shifts.

Monica has recently been partnering with a friend who has access to unique vintage items, which are artfully mixed in with new things. Monica has not lost her touch in arranging things beautifully and creating a welcoming and comfortable space that inspires one to linger:

In the back, she set up a little bar, with infused water and delicious wines from the winery where she now works:

Since Megan was driving, I got to taste the wine, and it was really good. Megan and I are beginning to plot a trip to Monica’s winery and a couple of others inland in the next few weeks, before it gets boiling hot. Stay tuned on that.

I was unable to resist a little turquoise ceramic bird, which is quite at home at my office:

and a little pine-scented candle for home, because you know how I am about scented candles.

We had a wonderful time before heading back to Megan’s place for pizza and GirlTV(TM). It seemed like a long time since we had hung out, and we enjoyed every moment.

A YEAR AGO: A wonderful trip to the Valley.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The horrors of being crowned.

TEN YEARS AGO: A busy and fun weekend.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: An Easter care package.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Judging the rather degenerate contents of my recycling bin.

Sunset

and our drinks, of course:

It was peaceful in the garden, and the waiter was wonderfully attentive. Monica joined us after her hostessing duties were over, and we had a great time catching up. We also talked about Dad a bit, since it was his birthday weekend. Monica asked us what things we each inherited from Dad, but I had to tell her Megan’s and Megan had to tell her mine. We were both correct and didn’t even have to think about our answers. For Megan, it was her science/medical mind, and for me, it was a love of art and literature. It was fun to think about and share our memories.

When we got to Megan’s car, she put her hands on the wheel and realized that her wedding ring was gone. She ran back into the bar and looked through all the paper towels in the restroom trash before going back to our table. There was her ring, glittering in the gravel in the last of the sun’s rays. Whew! She put it her pocket and is going to get it sized as soon as possible. So lucky she found it!

A YEAR AGO: A beautiful drive to the South Coast. Is there any other kind?

FIVE YEARS AGO: Farewell to our beloved Erica and Jessica. I miss them so much!

TEN YEARS AGO: A local production of The Breakfast Club.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Thinking about moving.

Dad’s birthday weekend dawned sunny and surprisingly warm. It was the first really nice day of the year, and especially welcome after what seemed like a pretty tough winter, full of storms, power outages, and cold temperatures.

It happened that our friend Monica was hosting a wine tasting at a lovely inn in the Village:

Because this town so is small – sometimes, its teeniness can still surprise me – the inn used to belong to my friend Richard (the local one, not the San Francisco one*), but I hadn’t been there since the current owners took it over.

We were greeted graciously by Monica and the couple who I later learned owned the inn, and supplied with a glass of wine to go with an exquisite charcuterie platter:

I don’t think I had ever seen a salami rose before.

We headed to the beautiful garden:

which had a charming gazebo:

and enjoyed the wine and the sunshine and the view. We toasted Dad as he had asked us to, long ago: “The old man wasn’t so bad.” He wasn’t. And he would have loved to sit in the garden with us and feel the sun while enjoying a glass of wine. At least we have the memories, and he is always in our hearts.

*Though SF Richard is an older friend in terms of years of friendship, local Richard is older in years.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Celebrating Dad’s birthday.

TEN YEARS AGO: Enjoying time with friends.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: The battle of the boxes.

It’s been a month since Clyde’s sudden death, and I can’t say I feel any better. Dodge is still sad and going back to that spot in the office, which I can see from my bed. Sometimes it’s a stab in the heart, sometimes it’s a comfort. I don’t think I’ll ever see that room without thinking of Clyde.

Sometimes, I think I see him out of the corner of my eye, even though I know perfectly well that he’s gone forever. Forever is a really long time.

Most days, I start crying on the Ridge when driving home from work, knowing that Dodge and Clyde will not be running out to meet me, the way they used to and the way they should and the way they never will again.

Dodge hasn’t been running out to see me, either, though he is very happy to see me and get his treats. He is more interested in food, treats, and petting than he was before. Maybe he is trying to enjoy every happy thing as much as he can? He also sleeps with me more than used to, often in the place Clyde used to, right next to my legs.

I am lucky that I have co-workers who understand the immensity and intensity of my loss, bringing me cards and flowers, hugs and kind words.

Megan is going to plant daffodils on Clyde’s resting place. They will bloom every year around the time we lost him. She’s also thinking of a plant I can put in a shiny black container with his name on it. I will put the container on the back deck, where he used to love to sit in the sun and watch the birds. It will be nice to honor him and feel like Clyde is still with us in a way.

A YEAR AGO: A delightful hotel stay.

FIVE YEARS AGO: How housework leads to more housework.

TEN YEARS AGO: The power was out.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Technical difficulties.

The day after we buried our beloved Clyde, a huge storm blew in, with torrential rains and high winds. It didn’t take long for the power to go out. And stay out.

On Monday, despite the still-bad weather, I attempted to go to work. The Ridge was carpeted in several inches of debris: twigs, leaves, bark, branches, small trees, pine needles, etc. A couple of times, I got out of the car to move small trees. There were several inches of debris, and I should probably not have driven over it, especially with a low-riding car.

I made it to the Albion River Inn in the pouring rain, only to find a PG&E truck across the road. The worker told me that many trees and power lines were down and that the road would be closed for some time. I made my way back to my cold, dark, Clydeless house, getting a branch stuck under my car as I did so. I was finally able to remove it when I got home, but it made a really loud and unsettling noise while it was stuck.

There’s no heat when there’s no power, and I was just dreading the long, dark night. I made it to work the next day, where I recharged all my devices, if not Self. I stopped by Megan and Rob’s place on my way home for a shower. It felt really good, and it was nice to shower under the skylight. I forgot to bring a hair dryer with me, though, so the total effect was not all it could have been, but at least I was clean.

The power outage dragged on. On the fourth day, I just sat on the couch and cried. I was so tired of the cold and dark and not being able to cook, and by then, the water in the water tank had run out, so things were a little more on the third world side than I was really comfortable with.

The lights finally came back on after five days of being out, and I ran around cleaning up and basking in the joy of heat and light. The next day, I was at the grocery store in town, chatting with an employee I know about how long our power had been out. When I told him that mine had come on the night before and explained where I live, a guy passing by said that he worked for PG&E and that he was the one who had gotten our power restored. So I was able to thank him in person.

We are supposed to get another storm next weekend. I really hope it’s not as bad as this one was. I am so worn out by the loss of Clyde and the stress of the last outage. I don’t think my solstice dumplings did a damn thing.

A YEAR AGO: Things were getting a little brighter.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Some snow days.

TEN YEARS AGO: Getting some rain.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Traveling by train.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: My first visit to Florida.

The death of Her Majesty the Queen darkened the end of 2022. The shadow deepened with the sudden and untimely death of my beloved friend Melanie on a beautiful, bright May day. Just as 2022 will forever be the year we lost The Queen, 2023 will forever be the year we lost Melanie.

It’s also the year that Megan had surgery for her thyroid cancer. Her life changed forever that day. Recovery has been longer and more painful than either of us would like, and I can’t help being concerned that there were not clean margins. It seems super unfair that she should be going through this at the young age of 52.

On the bright side, Jonathan and Rio had some fabulous adventures on their first (but not last) trip to Alaska.

It was a long, cold, stormy winter, with lots of power outages, including New Year’s Eve, five days in January across two outages, two days in February, one in March, and a late-breaking outage in May, caused by a human driving into a power pole instead of the weather. We even got some snow this year, and for the first time I can remember since I have lived in California, it lasted a day or two. So weird to drive on snow!

I watched some great TV shows this year, including: Daisy Jones & the Six; Your Honor; Poker Face; Florida Man; The Last Thing He Told Me; and Beef. Perry Mason Season 2 and Bosch Legacy Season 2 were also excellent.

I read 124 books this year, beating last year’s 110 and my previous record of 118 in 2010. Standouts included: Anne Boleyn & Elizabeth I: The Mother and Daughter Who Changed History by Tracy Borman; Small Mercies by Dennis Lehane; The Lie Maker by Linwood Barclay; The Forever Witness: How Genetic Genealogy Solved a Cold Case Double Murder by Edward Humes; Desert Star by Michael Connelly; and Somebody’s Fool, by Richard Russo.

January: The crappy year started out appropriately crappily, with a power outage and a staggering rent increase. Unhappy New Year to Me! The hits keep coming, with giant storm after giant storm, including one that prevented me from getting home. They inspired me to stay in town for the dreaded monthly board meeting. A delightfully social weekend.

February: Winter was beginning to lose its grip. But it was still chilly. And winter wasn’t done with us yet.

March: Snow gave way to hail. Is there such a thing as torrential hail? The loss of yet another Queen, as Queenie closed her fabulous restaurant. This development did make me up my weekend breakfast game, though. My eggs Benedict and skillets are restaurant-worthy. A terrifying drive home in yet another storm. I never want to hear the words “atmospheric river” again. Celebrating Dad’s 92nd birthday with my family. A break in the seemingly endless storms inspired me to take a drive down the beautiful South Coast.

April: Celebrating some milestones in the middle of the week. A beautiful trip to Anderson Valley. My blog turned 22. Another lovely visit to the Valley.

May: My longtime friend Richard adopted a kitten! It was love at first sight for both of them. And we lost beloved Scout, Jonathan’s adorable mini cat. Truly, this was a year (and month) of loss. Melanie died on a bright, beautiful afternoon, just three weeks after being diagnosed with lung cancer. She left on her own terms, in her own way, and I am thankful for that. We will carry her bright spirit with us always.

June: Jarrett and Kalli got married at the family property. Megan had her surgery. The 13th seemed particularly unlucky this year. Megan started the long (and so far, not all that successful) recovery process. Jonathan and Rio enjoyed their Alaska adventures.

July: The Imperious Empress Audrey turned a less than sweet sixteen. Long may she reign. A heat wave for the long weekend. Visiting the local farmers’ market.

August: Real estate stalking is extremely unwise. Some miscellaneous updates. Missing Dad on the anniversary of his death. Getting my hair cut, and having some fun with Megan.

September: Garden goodness. My annual peach pie. Enjoying the County Fair. Attending a vineyard wedding.

October: A lovely staycation and dinner in town. Kitty updates, and a kitty intruder.

November: Megan’s and my outing did not go as planned. But we still had fun. I missed the annual family cider pressing. Megan and I shared a lovely evening. A quiet Thanksgiving.

December: Getting ready for Christmas. And getting prettier. Attempting to stave off woeful misfortune in 2024. I really, really, really hope it works. A quiet Christmas.

This year, I survived. Next year, I want to live.

Megan and I decided it was high time we had dinner at our favorite seaside bar. Though we go there for drinks, we don’t often have dinner there.

It was gloomy outside, but bright and cheerful inside. The perfect weather to sit by the fire:

Megan was already there when I arrived, chatting with Tony, the genial owner and maître d’. I really believe he sets the tone for the restaurant, making everyone feel comfortable, welcome, and cared for, whether you’re a trucker, someone celebrating an anniversary, or someone who needs a drink after a long day of work. Come as you are and you will feel happy and at ease.

Tony made sure Megan’s knee was as comfortable as it could be. Her formerly good knee has been demoted to evil twin, and will likely be the cause of yet more surgery in the new year. It has been barking pretty loudly as of late, and the other knee is trying to keep up, so it seems that my sister is going to be on the wrong end of the gurney more often than she would like in the very near future.

We tried to put away all thoughts of surgery and the other bad things that happened this year or are hovering on the horizon. A beautiful cocktail of sparkling wine, raspberries, and limoncello helped:

We pondered the menu, and Megan decided on a rustic tart with tomatoes and cheese to start. I had mussels steamed in white wine with aioli on the side for dipping. They were both absolutely delicious, and in keeping with Dad’s principle of restaurant ordering, which is to get something you wouldn’t make at home. Speaking of fathers and daughters, we ordered a glass of local Fathers and Daughters Rosé to go with dinner. It was so good that it turned into a bottle, and it was the perfect accompaniment to our starters as well as our shared entrée of feather-light gnocchi with brown butter and fresh sage. Again, not something I would attempt to create in my kitchenette at home.

Since we were going all out, we decided to get not one, but two desserts: a perfect crème brûlée and a flawless dark chocolate pot de crème, accompanied by Cointreau. I don’t know which dessert was more delicious, but I do know we had a wonderful time!

A YEAR AGO: The sudden demise of my car.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Remembering my grandfathers’ valiant service on the battlefields on the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day.

TEN YEARS AGO: Appreciating friends and the beautiful place I live in.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: The joys of Jessica. I miss that kid! I mean, uh, woman.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Farewell to my beautiful Mustang, Josephine. I still miss her, too.

It’s that time of year when the garden work changes from watering and weeding to preserving and canning as my hard-working siblings get ready to put the garden to bed for the winter. Everything over there, from the garden to the orchard, seems to be on an epic scale. Here you see peppers they grew, before:

and after they were canned:

They canned 15 pints!

Once the peppers were squared away, it was time to start working on cider. Here you see Rob examining the apples after they were picked:

Because of Megan’s crazy schedule, cider pressing occurred during the work week instead of on the weekend, so our heroine could not join her family in this annual tradition. But my coworker and medical provider was there. Cider Day happened to mark the one year anniversary of her moving into Rio’s guest cottage. When we were pressing cider last year, she came by to check out the cottage. This year, she was part of the pressing. She says that we are like a second family to her. I love my family, in all its forms!

A YEAR AGO: A beautiful day in the Valley.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The air was smoky and scary from wildfires, with no rain in sight.

TEN YEARS AGO: A long trip home from Atlanta.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: My walk home from work. Bummer that the photos did not survive!

It had been way too long since our last family dinner. I”m not even sure when it was, but it was before Rio and Jonathan’s epic Alaska adventure back in June/July. They had a wonderful time, and it was fascinating to hear about it. They are already thinking abut going back. I’d love to see Alaska sometime.

Before dinner, I picked more raspberries and tomatoes to take home:

We had some of Dad’s favorite Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc in Megan’s garden:

It always reminds me of walking around Dad’s garden in Wimbledon before dinner with a glass of wine in our hands.

Dinner was mostly home-grown or made from ingredients already on hand. Jarrett brought the chicken on his last visit, and it was taking up room in the freezer, so Jonathan barbecued it to perfection:

The Mississippi caviar was made from things on hand, and it was delicious:

Dad would have been happy that we were using up food. He went through rationing for most of his early life, so we were trained from Day One to not let food go to waste. I think he would also be proud of Megan and Jonathan for living off the grid, and all the work they have put into the infrastructure and the garden on the property. I wish he could have seen it.

A YEAR AGO: Getting on with it after the death of The Queen.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Coming to you from the depths of Dental Hell, a place to be avoided at all costs.

TEN YEARS AGO: Wrapping things up after the loss of our beloved Schatzi.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A long-ago memory.

Does it ever happen to you that you wake up one day and you just have to have your hair cut? It was fine the day before, but that day, your hair is suddenly unacceptable. Well, that happened to me. I texted Angelika, and she was able to fit me in that week. Yay!

I left work early and headed to her little studio in the big woods. It was definitely time to get my hair cut, since I had last had it done in March.

This time, I just had it cut. I’ll save up to get the color done soon. In the meantime, Angelika told me about her trip to Germany to see her parents, and I met her friend Marion, who was visiting from Germany. They have been friends since they were three! There’s nothing like really good, long-term friends. And there’s nothing like a good haircut to cheer a girl up. I will spare you my terrible selfie attempts this time. You will just have to take my word for it that my hair looks great.

I left work early one Friday, went home and changed out of my faux adult armor, and Megan came by to pick me up. We headed to the Valley, enjoying the gorgeous scenery along the way: the ocean, the redwoods, the deep green of the vines over the rolling hills as harvest time approaches. We got a fabulous pizza at Offspring:

and headed back to the family estate, where we toasted the weekend with kir royales:

In the background, you can just about glimpse some of the sweet peas we grow for Dad every year.

Megan had somehow managed to find real creme de cassis from France, and the drinks were fabulous. We really enjoyed hanging out in the garden, enjoying our drinks in the sunshine and catching up. I am lucky to have a sister who is also my best friend.

A YEAR AGO: My annual peach pie.

TEN YEARS AGO: A recap of what was going on in and around my house.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Back in the City after a prolonged camping trip at my sister’s house to help take care of our dying mom.

Well, it’s another sad year.

Some years, when the Evil Eighteenth rolls around, I am thinking of the many happy memories with Dad, both as a child and as an adult. Some years, I feel angry because of his senseless death, and all the years we didn’t get to share with him, and all the good he could have continued to do for the world and the environment.

I was sad last year on the 18th, and I’m sad again this year. Maybe part of it is the terrible, untimely loss of my dear friend Melanie so recently. And yesterday I learned of the death of another friend who was too young, claimed by ALS after a long, hard battle. Add in Megan’s cancer and ongoing health battles, and it’s not too surprising that I’m feeling sad about Dad.

The sweet peas we grow for Dad every year are flourishing at the family estate:

They were his favorites. We had them at his memorial service, and our dear friend Lu carried some in her bouquet and in her hair when she married her beloved Rik a few years ago, so we felt like he was there celebrating with us. He is always with us, in our hearts.

We love you, Dad.

A YEAR AGO: Missing Dad.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A long and dreary week.

TEN YEARS AGO: Always with us.

TWENTY YEAR AGO: Thinking about Dad.

Time is working its magic, and Megan is feeling better. Her voice continues to improve, and I dare to hope that she will be bossing everyone around in the ER again soon. She is planning to go camping with her ER buddies after the Fourth of July, and I’m glad she has something to look forward to. I’m hoping she will be able to swim and enjoy hanging out with her friends in the sunshine. It will be healing, inside and out.

Jonathan and Rio have been on a road trip adventure. They drove to Alaska via British Columbia and the Yukon, camping in their van and generally having an amazing time exploring the wilderness and not so wilderness. Here’s Jonathan in the Alaskan tundra:

This what Jonathan described as a “sheet rainbow”:

Their ferry to Juneau was unexpectedly taken in for repairs, so that gave them an extra week in Alaska. Jonathan was able to get his work shifts covered (Rio is retired), and they had more time for Alaska adventures. He and Megan should both be home from their journeys at about the same time.

As for our heroine, the furthest abroad I have ventured is to go to work. I’m a girl whose passport has been expired for 20 years and who will likely never need one again. It’s funny how Megan and Jonathan love adventure and risk and I am just the opposite. My heart’s desire is always in my own backyard:

A YEAR AGO: Drinks with friends and shopping in the family garden.

FIVE YEARS AGO: The heat was hot and the cats were like cartoons.

TEN YEARS AGO: It was hot’n’heinous.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Terrifying wildfires.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: I’m noticing a theme here.

Megan is slowly healing up from her surgery. The key word here, especially as far as Meg is concerned, is “slowly”. Definitely too slowly for her taste. I seem to recall that she was also disappointed in the healing speed when she had knee surgery, and was longing to get back to work.

The Friday after the surgery, I took the day off and headed over to Megan’s place. Usually, when we go places together, Meg is the driver, but she was forbidden to drive by her surgical team, so I was the chauffeur. This was the first time Megan had driven in my new-ish to me car, and she really liked it. We now have twin Mazdas, much closer in age than Megan and I are, though mine is a little fancier. It also has a rear window wiper, which Megan envies, and rightly so. I have wanted one of those for years. We both have sun roofs, which we love.

Megan basically sounded like her cat Harriet after she lost her voice. She could only whisper. I was torn between wanting to hear everything that happened and how she was feeling and not overextending her voice. Her voice is supposed to be much better within three weeks, and if there are still issues, there are things the doctors can do to help to make it better.

Just as I hadn’t realized that Megan would not have the use of her hands as she crutched about after her knee surgery, I failed to realize that swallowing would also be a problem for someone who had three hours of surgery in and around her throat. Finding something to eat that was easy to swallow was a real challenge. We settled on some soup (always a gamble if previously untasted: will it be good, or gross?) and some pudding and hoped for the best.

Despite the whispering and the recovering from being sliced open and sewed up again, we still had fun together. We always do.

A YEAR AGO: Jarrett and Kalli got engaged on the family property. The wedding was almost exactly a year later, at exactly the same place.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Minor local mysteries in law enforcement. OK, then.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: The loss of my wonderful, unique, fearless, unforgettable stepmother, Margaret.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Taking care of Mom after a mini-stroke.

The 13th, though not a Friday, started out unlucky for our heroine, who stepped in cat poop in her bare feet on her way to the salle de bains. I suspect the 13 year old Clyde of thinking outside the box, having observed his merrily hopping outside the litter box while still in mid-poop, leaving a trail of calling cards behind him as heads off to the next adventure. I’m not sure if he’s too impatient to get on to the next thing or what. I also don’t understand why he comes in from the Outside, which, let’s face it, is a giant combined litter box and scratching post, and immediately goes to the litter box and scratches the carpet. Maybe he considers outdoor pooping to be as uncivilized as the help does.

It set the tone for the day, which turned out to be the kind where you drop your lip gloss and forget your lunch. At least my top wasn’t inside out, the way it was a couple of weeks ago when my co-worker (and healthcare provider) kindly pointed out that particular sartorial error. At least I had clothes on before I went to work.

Even though I was appropriately attired, I was unprepared for the call from the front desk telling me that the cops were at the front door. Also my boss.

For some reason, the police station was alerted that there was an alarm at the clinic, even though I had turned it off when I came in as usual. I later learned that a coworker had come in the delivery door about the same time I came in and that had confused the system. Or something. The police officer was really nice about it, and looked about 12 years old. It turned out he went to school with a colleague’s daughter, which upgraded him by about 10 years, but still perilously close to grandson age.

Given the inauspicious start to the day, I could be forgiven for worrying about Megan, who was headed for the operating room in San Francisco while I was chatting with Kindergarten Cop. But she came through the surgery like the star she is. She had the entire thyroid removed and I am hopeful she is cancer-free. Her incision is pretty big, and her vocal cords were stretched by the tumor, but the surgeon expects her to get her voice back.

Megan is home now, with Rob and the dogs, and just has the hard work of healing ahead of her. She has to sleep sitting up, like the Elephant Man (I remember how fun that was), and swallowing is painful, but she’s on the road to recovery. I hope it’s a short one.

A YEAR AGO: There’s no place like home.

FIVE YEARS AGO: My car and I were under the weather.

TEN YEARS AGO: File under miscellaneous.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Farewell to the Lovely Rita. I still miss her.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Airport (mis)adventures.

Megan and were planning to have a shared birthday celebration this year, but it was scheduled for a few days after Melanie’s death, so I was not feeling too festive and we cancelled the party. I did stop by the family estate that day to spend some time with my siblings. I told Jonathan I was sorry about Scout, and he told me he was sorry about Melanie. It’s still hard to believe they are gone, even though I know they are.

We took a look around the garden. It seems to me that things are not as far along as they usually are this time of year, but given that I’m always surprised by how early it starts getting dark in the fall, even though it happens every year, this could be a Suzy thing and not a seasonal thing. The apple trees were in blossom:

and the strawberries were berrying:

safely hidden from raccoons’ marauding paws and birds’ scavenging beaks under their netting.

The cherry tree was not so lucky. Its net cathedral was torn to shreds during the winter storms, and there was not enough time to rebuild it yet. So the birds will have cherries, if not strawberries.

In addition to the usual garden produce, flowers were being grown for Jarrett and Kalli’s upcoming wedding:

It seems there is always something happening in the garden.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A lovely Royal wedding.

TEN YEARS AGO: Finally got rid of the hot tub carcass in the back yard. Mostly.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: It is actually possible to be sick of shopping. You read it here first.