Suzy Says

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.

Scout

I’m sorry to tell you all that little Scout, Jonathan’s beloved mini-cat, vanished into the same woods she emerged from, in late 2012. Somehow, it makes sense that her departure should be as sudden and unexpected as her arrival, but it doesn’t make us any less sad at losing her.

She was a constant presence, despite her innate skittishness. She remained semi-feral, very difficult to pet outside of the one safe space in the entire universe: Jonathan’s bed. There you could enjoy petting her silky soft fur and hear her enormous purr. She slept right next to Jonathan every night he was home, and he misses her so much.

She would observe barbecues and parties from a distance, sometimes allowing a pet or two, but that was a rare gift. Not long before she left us, she had started to make very welcome cameo appearances at Megan’s house, even venturing inside despite the presence of Stella and Millie. Somehow, that makes it harder that she is gone for good. Maybe she was finally feeling safer after her 11 years with us, and she might have spent more time with us. We’ll never know.

Despite her diminutive size (she remained the size of a 8 or 9 month old kitten), she had a huge personality, and her loss is deeply felt.

A YEAR AGO: A new (to me) computer. Not without snags, of course. Suzy and technology do not mix. At least, not well. Or easily.

TEN YEARS AGO: How to make an orchard.

Dad’s birthday fell on a Friday this year, so we all got together for a dinner in his honor at Rio’s house.

Megan had just acquired a car which is almost the twin of mine, much like we are almost twins, born 9 years and 9 days apart. They are both Mazda 3s, but mine is red and hers is white. Mine is the Grand Touring edition, so like me, it is fancier. I have a rear windshield wiper, which I have wanted for a long time, and hers doesn’t. They are about a year apart. Mine is newer but has more miles. But we are both driving Mazdas these days. This is the first time I have owned a car that was not a Ford. Sorry, America!

The trip to Rio’s for Dad’s birthday dinner was the first time I had been in Megan’s new (to her) car, and it was very nice. We both like driving these cars.

It only seemed appropriate that we cook Dad’s birthday dinner from his cookbook, complete with drawings he made:

We made chicken pilau, and served it with salad:

Megan made bruschetta as an appetizer, with peppers my siblings grew and preserved last summer. These were topped with fresh basil and Parmesan:

We had cider we pressed last fall. This batch had some of our home-grown raspberries in it:

We gave the traditional toast to Dad: “The old man wasn’t so bad!” with much love and happy memories.

Jonathan made a pie from raspberries grown at the family estate and frozen for occasions like this. It was a taste of summer in what still felt like winter:

It was a wonderful, home-grown celebration.

We love you and miss you, Dad. Always.

A YEAR AGO: It was much more spring-like than it is this year!

FIVE YEARS AGO: Spring was wintery. I always say, March is the secret winter month no-one talks about.

TEN YEARS AGO: The woes of country traffic.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: Celebrating spring, Suzy-style.

I had a very social weekend. I met my friend Daphne for lunch on a Friday. We actually ate in a restaurant, which was a pleasant novelty after the Plague Years. It was great to catch up. We were in the throes of the annual fundraiser, and my friend Richard stopped by the office to drop off a couple of gift certificates. I took a little time to hear about his most recent adventures and just enjoy his positive presence. After work, I met my friend Alison for a drink at our favorite local watering hole. It was great to see everyone, and it had been far too long. I wonder if it’s too late to make a New Year’s Resolution to see my friends more often.

As I headed home that evening, I stopped to admire the view:

I am so lucky to live somewhere so beautiful.

The social whirl continued on Saturday. Megan picked me up and we headed to Boonville to pick up some fabulous pizza:

at Offspring:

The pizza had smokey tomato, charred onions, fior di latte mozzarella, pickled calabrian chilli, fermented garlic honey, and garden herbs. I know honey sounds weird on pizza, but it is utterly delicious.

We were disappointed to discover that both the pastry shop and the Mercantile next door were closed. We were dreaming of canelés and scented candles, but both shops were closed for the month of January. But we got our pizza!

We headed back to Megan’s place, where we had some fabulous kir royales:

We used local sparkling wine and French blackcurrant syrup, as well as blackcurrants soaked in crème de cassis. I even brought my rhinestone-studded champagne glasses for the occasion. Sometimes, we get fancy. And what better time than GirlNight(TM)?

A YEAR AGO: A magical encounter with a deer.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Getting some culture with the girls.

TEN YEARS AGO: Some updates.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Enjoying the Noir Festival.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A visit to Point Reyes.

It’s hard to think of 2022 as anything other than the year we lost The Queen. Three months after losing her calm, wise presence, it’s still hard to believe she is truly gone. She has been my Queen my whole life, and knowing her steady hand is no longer on the tiller makes me feel both unmoored and unnerved. It’s like living under a different sky.

I went to the City more this year (twice!) than I did in the last 10 years (once!). I think I’m done with it for the next little while, though I probably won’t wait for another decade to visit. It’s both familiar and strange at the same time.

I turned 60 this year, and Mom would have been 90. My blog turned 21. A lot of milestones this year. I found I was excited about turning 60. I feel like every day I wake up and I’m still breathing is a good one.

Books read: 110, more than last year’s 106. The most since 2017’s 111, and close to my personal best of 118 in 2010.

Here’s what happened in my world this year:

January: Happy New Year! Dodge lives up to his name. He is an Artful Dodger, indeed. Dental pain: not a good way to start the year. But a new baby is, especially when she is born on New Year’s Day. Especially when she’s Anna. In which we learn that Frank is a con man.

February: The Sex & the City reboot had its pluses and minuses. What should have been. Cheers to some unexpected nice weather! Getting my wisdom teeth out still had some glamor. And the whole thing went much better than I expected. Spending the night in style.

March: A delightful visit to the B. Bryan Preserve. The anniversary of losing our beloved Star. And our beloved father’s birthday. I will never stop missing either of them. Lilac time. And time to get a new computer, among other things.

April: My mom’s 90th birthday. First trip to the City in many years, to see a concert. Of course, I visited Swan’s while I was there. My blog turned 21. We both remain resolutely immature, and our grown-upness is quite faux. Don’t be fooled by the (somewhat alarming) numbers. A look around the family garden, and some updates on my beloved cats.

May: A super computer, after my old one became unusable. It’s how I roll. A guy actually tried to pick me up at the gas station, and Dodge hurt his paw. Happy birthday to Megan and me!

June: My second trip to the city in 6 week’s time. Making up for lost time! A look around the old neighborhood. The City was fun, but it was good to be home. It’s official: Jarrett and Kalli are engaged! Celebrating in style.

July: The Imperious Empress Audrey turned 15, outliving her mother Quince, who died just a few days before Audrey’s birthday. We estimate that Quince was about 9 months old when Audrey was born. Audrey is the only survivor of her litter, and has been for some time. Fleeing the usually beloved Circus. I hope next year’s performance is more fun and less painful. The delights of the Symphony. I got a beautiful new bed, put together with my family’s help.

August: Packing a lot of fun into one day. A delightful trip to the Valley. Marking 21 years since we lost Dad. I will never stop loving and missing him. My annual peach pie. Catfight! I am pleased to announce that Dodge was the winner, and also that there has not (to my knowledge) been an encore performance.

September: Uh oh. Car problems. In retrospect, I realize this was also the beginning of the end of Wednesday. The sudden and shocking loss of Her Majesty The Queen rocked my world and sent me into mourning for the rest of the year. But she would have wanted us to get on with it, and we did, working on wedding plans as a family. Tallying up the bridges I cross to get to work. Some early season rain.

October: Finally! Megan and I went to the County Fair. A visit to Point Arena, and a fabulous dinner at Gama. Another finally: we pressed cider together.

November: November came in like a lion. A lovely trip to the Valley. It’s beautiful at any time of year. The demise of my car was sudden and shocking. And Thanksgiving was modest.

December: Decorating for Christmas. Candlelit shopping was rained out for us, but we still found a way to have some fun. Finding new and unenjoyable ways to spend money. Christmas celebrations.

It’s a stormy end to the year. Trying not to think of it as an omen.

On the eve of Christmas Eve, I left work early, and for the last time in 2022. I took the week off between Christmas and New Year’s, possibly for the first time since I started working at the clinic. Because of the way Christmas fell, I only had to take 4 days off to get 11 days off, counting weekends, which we all know are the most important part of the week. So I was unable to resist, not that I tried very hard.

With glorious days of freedom stretching before me, I headed homewards, stopping at Cafe Beaujolais to pick up pizza. When I got home, I took care of the cats (always the first order of business, whether it’s the beginning of the day or the end), changed out of my work clothes for the year, and texted Megan that I was ready to go.

Megan chauffeured the pizza and me to her place, where we had appletinis and watched season 3 of Emily in Paris. Warning: spoilers ahead! Avert your eyes if you haven’t already seen Season 3! We both agreed that this season was not as enjoyable as the earlier two, though it was still fun. Emily’s clothes were mostly weird, instead of mostly wonderful, as they were in the earlier seasons. But we got to spend more time with the inimitable Sylvie, which is fine with me. The most concerning thing was not Camille and Gabriel almost getting married, but the horrifying plot twist that Camille is pregnant. As we all know, babies are the kiss of death for any TV show, and the thought of Camille pregnant and then with an infant clinging to her is completely dreadful. I hope they can write their way out of this one and make Season 4 more fun and fashionable. We need the escapism.

Despite all that, we had a great evening together, and have already planned another Girl Night for January. It’s good to have things to look forward to, especially after the Saddest Day of the Year, which is speeding toward us all too fast.

A YEAR AGO: A solstice earthquake. Oddly, there was one about the same size in the same place on that date, too.

FIVE YEARS AGO: A chilly solstice.

TEN YEARS AGO: Some unexpected Christmas guests.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Baby Audrey breaks out of the Big House.