Suzy Says

Peaches at the family property

It’s that time of year again, when quarterly calls and reports are due, so things have been kind of a hectic whirlwind at Chez Suzy this past week. And as you know, all work makes for no blogging, since a) blogging about work is not fun as well as unwise; and 2) there’s no time for fun things since you’re always working.

But I did carve out a little time for fun this past week.

I drove the three miles to my friend Jim’s house, experiencing the wonder of microclimates once again. It was warm and sunny at my house, but I needed a sweater by the time I got to Jim’s place. I was greeted by his adorable dog Zoe, and ushered into the lovely house by Jim’s partner, Joel.

Ironically, since I am in the throes of a hard-won divorce process, I was there to help the couple plan their wedding in August. After 25 years together these two can finally say “I do” in the eyes of the great state of California. It’s about time.

They are expecting about 30 people (including Me), and Joel is doing all the cooking. It all sounds quite wonderful. We spent some time figuring out logistics (where to put the tables; what to rent and what to buy; what to do for decorations) and then just caught up on our lives over peppermint tea. I am so happy for them both and am looking forward to the ceremony.

On Friday, my brother and sister threw a huge BBQ at the family property. There were dozens of people there, some who were new to me, but most were known and loved: Lu, her daughter Ali, and partner Rik; Jennifer and David, my siblings’ land partners (who brought their horses all the way from Grass Valley); and Monica and her husband Joe. Joe and Monica have owned and operated a flooring store for 20 years, and Joe told me that every time he lays down carpet, he leaves a page of newspaper or some baseball cards underneath, like a little time capsule.

I was delighted by this, and he said that he has replaced some of the carpets he previously laid and found his own time capsules. He adds to them and keeps the original items as well. Lu mentioned that her sister had just bought a house, and it turned out that Joe had put new carpet in that week. Small town!

Clyde is back to his old self again. I’m still in the phase of being delighted by his naughtiness rather than annoyed by it. Oh, look! He’s on the counter! Yay, he’s clawing the couch! It’s so cute that he’s milling around under my feet and meowing while I’m trying to feed him!

I will never know if it was the potassium infusion the vet gave him, or whether he just needed an extra day or two to recover from whatever it was. I will also never know what it was. A bug? Virus? A bad bird or mouse? At least I do know that he is 100% OK according to the tests. And I’m so thankful to see that he’s alert and happy again. My little guy.

Megan is also doing fine. She shook off the flu quickly enough to do four 12 hour night shifts this past week. She woke up on Friday afternoon and we met Monica for drinks that evening (more about this later). On Saturday, she went to swimming lessons in town, then went to Safeway and shopped for Erica, and then brought the shopping to Erica’s house, about an hour and a half’s drive one way.

I couldn’t go, but I sent along some movies for Jessica and also The Munsters, which she loves. Jessica will be in a cast for twelve weeks. Goodbye, summer! We will have to figure out some way to get her around the county fair in the middle of September. I also have to figure out a way to go and visit those girls soon. Erica reminded me that they have been back from Portland for an entire year now and I have yet to go and visit them. Worst. Friend. Ever.

Speaking of which: I ended up giving back the fancier camera. It wasn’t notably better than my old one, so it didn’t make sense to me to keep it. Fortunately no-one was offended. I’m just glad they can get their money back and that their feelings aren’t hurt.

On Friday evening, Megan and I met Monica at the bar of what is rapidly becoming our regular watering hole, the Little River Inn. Here’s the view from our table by the door:

My co-worker turned up with her beautiful family, including her mother’s friend who is an attorney in Nevada. We spoke about the Zimmerman case, and he said that juries can be very unpredictable, and he thought that they might acquit despite the evidence. Unfortunately, he was correct. I was as appalled by this verdict as I was in the trial of Oscar Grant’s killer several years ago. Coincidentally, the movie Fruitvale (named after my former BART stop in Oakland, where the murder took place) was released that very day. I am saddened by the racism and injustice in this country.

Why stop and smell the roses when you can play with them?

You will be glad to hear that everyone is improving. Jessica learned to crutch around pretty quickly – always her way of learning everything – and is in the capable and loving hands of her mother at home. Jonathan is coming up with science experiments for her to do while her slim limb recovers, and I have ordered her a book of paper projects. I think she’ll love that it’s called “The Secret Society of Paper Cuts”.

Megan, of course, was back at work Monday night. She said that bugs that violent rarely last very long, and despite my attempts to dissuade her, she worked on the family garden on Sunday as well as checking in on Clyde twice and reporting to me while I was at work. She was a Montessori teacher before she was an EMT/ambulance driver and has worked in the ER for years now, so she has a really kickass immune system. Still one more night of work for my valiant sis tonight. I don’t know how she does it.

Clyde is almost his old self again. I first noticed he was sick on Saturday night. He looked all bleary-eyed and was non-responsive. In the morning, he walked downstairs in slow motion. He ate and drank as usual, but he seemed out of it and not at all like himself. He went outside and huddled there like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. He wasn’t grooming, not purring, his head and tail were drooping, he slept a lot, walked around slowly, and, perhaps most remarkably, no naughtiness.

By the time Monday rolled around and he was pretty much the same, I called the vet. Dr. Karen is in Italy with her family for three weeks, and Dr. Carl is (not surprisingly) booked for a week. So Dr. Barbara saw Clyde. She gave him a complete blood panel and checked everything out. $200+ later, it seemed that everything was A-OK, except for, you know, the whole sick thing. And his potassium levels were a little bit low. Since he couldn’t (or wouldn’t) eat a banana, Dr. Barbara gave him a subcutaneous infusion of potassium. It was a relief to know that nothing major was wrong, but I still wish I’d gotten a definitive diagnosis.

Clyde was very brave and stoic. I should really stop thinking of him as a baby boy. And? He weighs 11 pounds! I would never have guessed!

Clyde seemed better the next day. and started clawing the couch again. I never thought I’d be happy to see or hear that! Or his jumping on the counter. He finally climbed up on me and purred like he used to, and when I came home yesterday, he was all dirty from playing on the haul road, which was another good sign that he was getting back to normal.

Interestingly, Audrey stayed near him while he was sick, and Roscoe sniffed him thoroughly every time he saw Clyde. They also exchanged what I think of as little kisses, more than usual. Today they were playing in the sunlight, so I’m hoping everything is back to normal.

Independence Day evening finally freed us from the death grip of the blasting (and blasted) heat. The weather has been so strange this year. The driest January and February in recorded history, the strange rain storm in June, followed by the heat tsunami, which concluded with thunder and lightning but no rain. We were all terrified of a repeat of the ’08 wildfires which my brother and his brotherhood fought so valiantly for so long. He told me later that he was half awake all night, listening for the pager, and that in his mind he was already halfway out the door. Fortunately, there was only one small fire inland which was easily contained and that was all.

Independence Day evening also freed Megan of the delightful BBQ we had had at our brother’s place. She was violently sick all night, with her body and bones aching, so it was a flu or virus which a visitor to the ER thoughtfully gave her as a parting gift. Due to the holiday, she didn’t know the locum doctor on staff at the ER, and the staff at the clinic, where my sister is regularly seen, refused to call in a prescription for an anti-emetic. I went to the village and asked the pharmacist if he could recommend anything to help her, but he said there really isn’t any over the counter medication for this. He was visibly shocked that the clinic wouldn’t call in a prescription for a regular patient for something that has no recreational use. I have a feeling that the clinic staff has not heard the last of this.

I stocked up on ginger ale, Jell-O, chicken soup, and other queasiness supplies and dropped them off at Megan’s house. She had lost the juice and water she drank that morning, and couldn’t even think about coffee, even though she is composed of at least 75% caffeine at all times.

I am pleased to report that she is feeling better today, though I wish she didn’t have four 12 hour night shifts waiting for her, starting tomorrow night. That’s pretty tough, even for her.

In other medical news, our beloved Jessica broke her lovely leg a couple of days ago. I don’t have all the details, but apparently she was trying to get out of another kid’s way on the trampoline when he or she fell on Jessica and broke her leg in two places:

Fortunately, she didn’t need pins, just a cast, and she is back home, resting as comfortably as possible in the circumstances. Erica said the doctors were concerned about Jessica’s striking pallor until she assured them it was Jessica’s normal skin tone. 🙂

Seems like my little Clyde is under the weather as well. He looked bleary last night, and this morning, he didn’t run outside as usual. He did eat, but then he just huddled by the (open) door like an uncomfortable loaf of bread. I couldn’t see any wounds, and he didn’t cry out when I picked him up and felt him all over, but he didn’t purr and he just looked blah.

I notified Megan before I left for the jobette, and told her I was keeping him inside (which means Audrey and Roscoe will have to be outside all day), and she said she’d stop by to check on him. Dr. Megan is never too sick to pay a house call. Hopefully he will be feeling better by the time I get home. I hope everyone is!

The unusual rain gave way to unnatural heat. It’s been way too hot for way too long. Looking at the weather forecast makes me want to cry. At first, they said it would go away on Monday, but now it looks like Thursday before we can get onto the back burner. I hate the front burner.

Living in my uninsulated, upside down rowboat shaped house doesn’t help. Even when it has cooled down outside, it’s still an oven in the house, especially upstairs in the sleeping loft. Even with the screen door (thanks, Rob!) and a fan on upstairs, I can barely sleep with a sheet on, and I hate that. It’s flying in the face of my pro-blanket policy.

The heat makes me cranky (or crankier), as you can tell. On Friday, my brother invited me over to the property for a barbecue. He said that Erica and Jessica were there, and my late-breaking birthday present, but I didn’t want to leave the three fans in my living room for the sunstroke savanna that is the property. He called me back to ask me again, and I felt like Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, where he says, “He’ll keep calling me…he’ll keep calling me…he’ll make me feel guilty…OK, I’ll go! I’ll go! I’ll go!” You can see Alan Ruck in all his comic splendor in this scene here.

I got in the car and blasted the tunes and the air conditioning, even though it’s a quarter of a mile drive (not including our very long driveways). I drove about 10 miles an hour the whole way to make the coolness last as long as possible. When I finally pulled up, Jessica came over to the car and she was actually mad at me for not coming sooner, so it’s a good thing I didn’t bail on the whole thing completely as originally planned. I don’t think she has ever been mad at me before.

We huddled in the shade of some rhododendrons and drank some cold Mike’s. My present turned out to be a fancy camera. Erica asked her professional photographer friends what they would recommend as a step up from the one I had, and they suggested this one. It’s $900 new, but Erica found one that had been previously enjoyed, but not too much, since it still had its original packaging and accessories. She had even taken a couple of pictures of Jessica to test it out. I was kind of overwhelmed. Just the ceramic knife (which I use all the time) would have been enough!

Lichen turned up, hot and scratchy after a long day of ripping out brambles in the bone-crushing heat. He sat in the shade, took off his boots, and applied tea tree oil to his scratches. He says it’s the best thing for scratches and bug bites. I thought about how different our days had been before we all met up. Lichen working in the sun; Jonathan driving to another town to help a friend fix his equipment (and later working on Erica’s car); Erica and Jessica’s long drive from the Valley; Megan working in the garden in the blazing sun; me at the courthouse with all those other sad women (it’s always women), working on our paperwork for divorce or custody or restraining orders, supporting each other the best we could.

My divorce is hopefully on track for October 2. The judge in the county seat wanted me to fill out an Income and Expense worksheet and submit copies of my pay stubs (which I don’t have) and tax returns, all of which felt like a huge invasion of privacy. It also seemed totally unnecessary, since we have already signed and notarized a document which states that we are not asking each other for alimony and further, that we never can, so it seems ridiculous to do this other paperwork.

The Family Law Facilitator said that the county seat judge is new and wants everyone to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, but she was pretty confident that the local one wouldn’t, so hopefully that will work out. If not, I’ll just have to do the extra paperwork. Apparently John and I may well get the final decree from the judge before October 2, though the soonest we can plan our next weddings is October 3.

I’ll get right on that.

When I got home, it was clear the kitties missed me. Clyde came running up to me meowing, and climbed up my (always) left arm to bury his little head against my neck, purring*. Roscoe slunk into the house and let me pet him before stalking off, and Audrey sat on my lap and went to sleep, relieved of being in charge. All three cats slept on the bed that night.

It’s not only the cats who missed me. Luna came running up, wagging her tail and rolling around on the ground in welcome, and Megan told me that Schatzi patrols my house more than usual when I’m gone. Both Megan and Rob found Schatzi hanging out in my garden, which she doesn’t usually do when I’m here. She prances by several times a day, but she never stays. I think I have honorary pack privileges in her eyes, since I often try to get her to eat and/or take her medicine. It’s nice to know that there’s extra protection while I’m gone, and it’s surprising that Audrey didn’t chase Schazti away.

On Saturday, I had my slightly delayed birthday BBQ (or, as my brother called it, my Suzy Q). My sister spent hours making chicken tikka masala and grill bread, as well as the magic Lu salad. My brother made cherry crumble from scratch – not from their trees, but that day will be here in a couple of years. The peach trees already have teeny, fuzzy peach-ettes on them, and some of the apple trees have mini apples. They gave me a ceramic chef’s knife, which is supposed to be diamond hard and not need sharpening (hopefully I will be able to avoid Calamity Suzy episodes with it). The handle is a lovely, translucent turquoise. Apparently I have yet another present which Erica has. Megan and I are trying to plan a sleepover at Erica’s this month, though it’s been challenging with our crazy schedules.

Back at the jobette, my desk was covered with cards and presents, among them a Hello Kitty magnet set and glittery Hello Kitty socks. Megan took one look and said, “Do they know you, or what?” Nothing like feeling appreciated, is there?

*Also his signature move when I first saw the boys. He did that while Roscoe watched aloofly, such things being beneath his dignity even at two months of age. Sometimes I tell Clyde the story of how he convinced me to take them both home, and I swear he purrs louder.

It’s my birthday eve and I am off to San Francisco to celebrate.

The city seems to be my celebration theme this year, since I also kicked off the new year by going there. This time, I’m attending a seminar on my actual birthday, and then the seminar hosts are grandly taking us all to see the Giants play the Toronto Blue Jays – from a luxury box. How’s that for a birthday party?

I’m hoping that the cats have used up their naughtiness quotas for the week, though this seems unlikely.

Yesterday Clyde went over to Megan’s house to cat burgle – or attempt to cat burgle – Harriet’s and Ramona’s food. The weather has been beautiful lately, so Megan’s doors, like mine, were open. Clyde took this as an invitation to check out what the neighbor cats were eating. Megan’s dogs, however, had a different opinion.

Small, stripy Schatzi, who is the most polite dog ever to all cats, has been chased away from my house by the small, stripy Audrey, who has done the same thing with the much bigger Luna. But let one of my cats turn up on Schatzi’s home turf, and it’s a different story. Megan was drinking coffee on the couch and said it was all over before she realized it was happening.

There was a scuffle in the kitchen, a water bowl went flying, and Star joined Schatzi in the feline eviction with such enthusiasm that they almost knocked Rob over in the driveway. Megan said it was like “Scuffle! Sploosh! %@#@$%^#%$^!” and then all that was left was the dust in the air (and the water on the kitchen floor).

Not to be outdone, Roscoe decided that my last night at home for most of the week and the one right before a four hour drive the next day was the perfect time for him to stay out all night. I saw him slink under the house, so I was pretty sure he was nearby, and tried to vanquish thoughts of how the beautiful June disappeared on my birthday three years ago.

Needless to say, sleep was sporadic, and I kept getting up and calling him. All the outside lights were on to try and keep the marauding monsters at bay, but you know that I am a Worrier. At last, around 4:00 am, Roscoe came calmly out of the darkness and into the house, where he had a snack and then curled up next to me in bed, so I couldn’t be mad at him.

Let’s hope they behave better for Megan!

Yesterday, Megan and I headed to the Big Town to run a few errands before meeting Monica for a drink at what is rapidly becoming our usual place, the Whale Watch Bar at Little River Inn.

Monica and Joe had to put their dog Drew to sleep this week, so Megan thought that buying Monica a drink was the least we could do. I think the venerability of the aging Schatzi makes Megan really empathize with Monica’s situation. Drew was 16 years old and had cancer, so he had a good, long life with a family who loved him until his last breath, but it’s still hard to say farewell to a beloved family member. As John observed when my father died, you always want one more day.

As we were just about to pull out of the parking lot at the garden center, someone honked at us, a rare occasion here on the Coast. It turned out to be Lu! She came with us to the next nursery – Megan was in search of tomato and bell pepper starts – and then took off on her own errands while we finished up and then met Lu back at her place. Star was thrilled to see her BFF Harlow, and they dashed off to play together while Megan and I admired the garden.

Lu has a whole wall of fuchsias:

I have to ask her how she did it. I suspect the answer is that she can plant directly into the soil instead of having to container plant the way I do. I love fuchsias, but mine are looking a little leggy despite fertilizer (I probably should have cut them back in the winter. My father always used to say you have to prune ruthlessly). She also gave me a cutting from her hedge of rose geranium, which smells absolutely heavenly.

Lu came with us to the Inn, where Monica joined us, carrying a nice article about Daisy Davis in the local paper. She was doing about as well as anyone can do in that situation, and I think it did her good to be with her friends. Here is the view from our table:

Lu, Monica, and I all have birthdays in June, and Monica is having a party on the beach a couple of days after hers, so I’m looking forward to that later this month.

As for today, it kicked (or splashed) off with aqua zumba with Megan, followed by work, and tonight a barbecue at our brother’s place with our neighbor who has been having a tough time lately. We’re hoping to cheer her up and let her know we are here for her, whatever she needs. Sometimes that’s all you can do.

Megan is so special and her birthday is so special that we celebrated it twice – last week, and on her real birthday, this past Saturday.

In the interim between the two barbecues, my brother had not been idle. He made a Waltons sized picnic table:

I mentioned that seeing him working on the table reminded me of Dad, and he said that this was the kind of carpentry Dad really enjoyed: making something useful and practical. He built bookshelves in every house we ever lived in, and Megan still has – and uses – the coffee table he made when she was a baby.

My brother wasn’t idle on Megan’s birthday, either. A woman fell about 55 feet from a cliff and Jonathan and his fellow firefighters rushed to the rescue. The woman had multiple fractures but was otherwise in pretty decent shape. Jonathan got to package her up and see her helicoptered away, and then got to be helicoptered up himself “at the end of a string”, as he put it, but really in harnesses and other safety gear:

He loves this and says it’s a good day when helicopters are involved.

Megan was busy rescuing me, unbeknownst to me. She came over to my house to pick up barbecue supplies while I was at the jobette, and discovered Clyde with an undead rabbit in the living room. The rabbit clearly wasn’t going to survive, so she dispatched it (I didn’t ask how and I still don’t want to know), putting the poor thing out of its misery and me out of the misery of finding rabbit bits all over the house.

I know it’s their nature, but I can’t help being horrified when the cats show up with birds and bunnies. I find it hard to reconcile the cuddly Clyde I love with the murderous beast he appears to be outside, though perhaps that’s what you get for naming your cat after one of America’s most (in)famous desperadoes.

Meanwhile, back at the birthday BBQ, Jonathan surprised Megan with a Swiss Army knife – equally useful to gardeners in the rugged environs of Hooterville as in the Alps (do the Swiss actually have an army?) and by replanting her grandiflora magnolia tree onto the family property:

Lichen the professional landscape gardener supervised the transplant, and the tree looks pretty happy there.

I gave Megan a dog DNA kit so she can finally find out what Schatzi is, before it’s too late. The Schatz is over 15 years old now, and some days her legs look pretty draggy, but on the whole she is hanging in there in her stoic Schatzi manner.

Erica and Jessica were there, and our friend Carrie from Oakland, as well as couple of Jonathan’s friends from the fire department, and it was so fun to eat at the big picnic table, talking about old memories and making new ones.

America’s Next Top Model

The week may have started out on a sour note, but it ended on a sweet one.

Megan’s birthday is next Saturday, but we celebrated her birthday yesterday. Our friends Rik and Lu, who are both EMS workers, are so busy that it’s hard to find a day when they are both available, especially once summer starts and they start being the medics on hand at festivals and events all over Northern California. They also spent a month in Honduras this spring, helping out as volunteers at clinics in remote areas.

Since they were available on Friday, Friday it was. Monica and her husband Joe (he’s in the background of the picture of Jessica) came, as well as Erica, Jessica, Lichen and Phoebe, and we all had a wonderful time.

Lu and Rik had raised a couple of pigs which were slaughtered a few weeks ago, so they brought ribs and pork burgers. I usually don’t eat pigs due to humane reasons and environmental ones – and living half a block from an overly active abbatoir for a few years, especially in the summer, didn’t help matters – but I found myself unable to resist. Everything smelled and looked delicious, and I knew they had been raised kindly and without pesticides and antibiotics, so I indulged. I don’t know what Rik spiced the burgers with, but they were the best burgers I have ever had.

Besides the porkapalooza, we had barbecued shrimp for which I made charmoula sauce, and Megan made grill bread. Lu brought her famous salad of quinoa, spinach, red onions, almonds, mint, cilantro and lemon dressing, and Monica brought a lovely caprese salad with heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil and mozzarella.

You’d think that would be enough, but Jonathan* made a pie from the strawberries he picked from the garden that very day:

Erica brought graham crackers which she made from scratch that day – only Erica would actually make graham crackers – and marshmallows, which she made with chocolate nibs embedded inside them. Again, only Erica. We toasted the marshmallows over the fire and spread them on the graham crackers for instant s’mores.

We sat around the fire laughing and talking as the dogs romped around the garden and the sun set behind the trees. It couldn’t have been a more perfect evening.

*He was wearing a t-shirt that read “You can’t trust atoms. They make up everything”.

You’d think that last year’s garden building extravaganza would have tuckered my siblings out, and that all they’d want to do this year is hang out in the palatial 6,400 square foot garden with an adult beverage or two. Instead, they decided to build an orchard next to the garden.

You remember the drill, right? Your machinery-wielding friend comes and digs up the unyielding soil:

Then you remove all the root balls by hand and import truckloads of real dirt and dig holes for the new trees:

I “helped” by digging the last two holes. One was way too deep and other wasn’t wide enough.

Megan and Rob moved two of their apple trees over to the new orchard. Here you see the boys working on the problem of getting the trees from the truck into their new homes:

And here’s one of the trees after replanting. You can see that it’s covered in a lichen called “Old Man’s Beard”, a relative of the famous Spanish Moss one sees on trees in the South. This particular lichen is extremely sensitive to air pollution, so you can see that the air in Hooterville is pretty clean:

After that, it was time to spread hay all over and seed it with vetch to keep the dirt from blowing away in the dry summer months:

They also installed a drip system, since hand watering 19 trees is too onerous a task, even for them.

Yes, 19 trees, including various apples, Asian pears, regular pears, cherries, plums, and peaches. The trees started flowering in February, to the delight of the bees on the property:

It’s been deer- and rabbit-fenced, but it will have to be electrified at some point to discourage marauding bears from raiding the fruit.

Whenever I hear Bruce Springsteen sing “Working on a Dream”, I think of my hard-working siblings and the dream they are making into reality.

Evening at the historic Little River Inn

I’ve been so busy with one thing and another that I totally forgot my own blog’s 12th birthday on April 20. Not to mention Star’s 5th birthday on Cinco de Mayo (5/5). Happy belated birthday to both of us!

On Friday, Monica texted me to suggest that Megan and I meet her for a drink that evening at Little River Inn. I checked with Megan and she was free, so we went to town and ran some errands and then headed to Little River.

Miss Star had come along for the ride, so we took her for a walk in the cemetery before we met Monica. We waved at our brother, who passed us as we were getting Star out of the car. I think it’s a very pretty place:

It’s not very big, but it’s peaceful and dotted with very old stones. You can walk all the way to the ocean if you know where to go. On this occasion, we just wandered around closer to the road since we didn’t have a lot of time before meeting Monica.

This stone commemorates someone with the remarkable name Dreeme Life Ball:

He or she died in 1917, so it’s not (as you might think) a hippie name. The stone bears the lovely inscription “To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” Tied for coolest name in the graveyard is Haskett Severance. I like the wheat sheaf:

Sadly, this lovely rose-carved stone commemorates Haskett’s only daughter, Mary Ella, who was only 16:

At the bottom of her stone, it touchingly reads “Though lost to sight, to memory dear.”

The Bretts, whose tomb is quite magnificent, lost all five of their children in the 1800s:

It must have been pretty hard up here in pioneer days. Sometimes I think about how it must have been for families back then. It’s still a relatively isolated area.

It was time to meet Monica, so we loaded Star back in the car and headed to the historic Inn. We perched at the bar and ordered drinks: a mojito for Megan and a Margarita for me. Monica soon joined us, and it was great to catch up on each other’s news and spend some time together.

As we headed home in the fading evening sun, I thought about how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place, and to have such good friends- one of which is my sister,

Well, the heat wavelet turned out to be wishful thinking. We’ve been blasted by temperatures in the high 80s for the past four days, which is about four days too long.

True, we don’t have the bone-crushing humidity they have back East, and unlike that side of the country, it actually cools down at night to about 45 or 50 degrees. This should be good for sleeping, but when you live in a house shaped like an upside down rowboat, the heat congregates up in the pointy part, which is where I (try) to sleep. It throws a pretty smokin’ party up there and tends to multiply. You know how some parties can be.

Though thankful for the screen door Rob installed (and not a moment too soon) and having a fan up there, it’s been pretty hard to sleep for the past three nights. I’ve gone through a three pound bag of ice in as many days.

It’s nearly impossible to get an accurate weather forecast, partly because of the many microclimates and partly because we live in such an obscure corner of the world, but it appears that the heat is going to be moving on tomorrow, though it may just be more wishful thinking on my part.

On Thursday, Megan, Rob and I sweated our way to the Big Town for the open house at the fine woodworking school. You may recall how impressed I was by the show in February, and I was excited about sharing it with them.

We were warmly greeted by the students, and Rob, a former carpenter and wood worker himself, had some good conversations. I was pleased to meet the creator of my favorite piece from the earlier show, the delightfully named Sarah Marriage, and tell her how much I love her roll top desk:

I was completely enchanted by these lamps:

They would look perfect on my curved walls, don’t you think?

I was charmed by this curvaceous chair:

This spectacular table was made of madrone, a local wood, and jarrah, a member of the eucalyptus family, which was new to me:

The cutting board on the table has a note explaining that it was made of “wood found in the firebox”. Nice use of scraps:

Behind the school were the mock ups, or drafts, of the beautiful finished work. It was fun to see them:

We also admired the view:

There’s a stream and in the distance you can almost see the trestle the historic Skunk Train passes over. It’s a beautiful setting for a building full of beautiful things.

Megan and Rob enjoyed the show as much as I did, and we had a lot to talk about as we headed to the local brewery’s Tap Room & Grill for dinner. We discovered that the menu had changed quite a bit, but I enjoyed my Carolina BBQ and Rob his fish and chips. Megan was a little less enthused with her pizza, but we had a good time together and enjoyed the cool of the restaurant and the iced tea.

After dinner, we got some handmade local ice cream. Of course, we didn’t forget Miss Star, who enjoyed her little scoop of vanilla hugely:

After that, we headed home in the setting sun, replete with a good dinner and a happy evening together.

But it hasn’t all been divorce and (melo)drama. A couple of weeks ago, we had a lovely Friday evening.

Megan and I went to the Village to look for books for Jessica’s birthday, which, as every right-thinking person knows, is every April 15. Originally we were looking for books on Hindu mythology, but we struck out on that, so we headed across the street to Out of This World, which is. It didn’t take us long to snap up a make your own bath bomb kit, a book on science experiments, and, what every ten year old girl needs, a do it yourself lemon clock (lemon not included).

After that, it was time to take Star for a stroll and admire the ocean, which was feeling pretty that day:

Star gets perturbed when I wander off and take pictures. She stops and looks for me, clearly thinking, “The pack should stay together at all times!” Once I rejoin the pack, she trots along happily, tail wagging and ears perked up. Star gets extra credit for totally ignoring the (many) barking dogs in cars. I finally understand why Megan trained her dogs to never, ever bark in the car. If only more dog owners did the same thing!

We met Rob for dinner at Frankie’s, where we sat outside with an ever-alert Star at our feet. And she was right – of course she got some dinner, too!

In the background, you can see the famous statue of Time and the Maiden on top of the bank:

It was made in 1866 of a single truck of redwood and is one of the most famous and best-loved landmarks in the Village.

After dinner, we made our way to the theater, which was festively lit up for the occasion:

The play was called Boy Gets Girl, written by Rebecca Gilman in 2000, but set in New York in the 1990s. It’s a dark tale of a successful young journalist who is set up on a blind date with a man who seems to be innocuous at first, but soon becomes obsessive and terrifying.

Here’s the set when we first came in – it serves as the bar where the couple first meets, the journalist’s office, and her apartment:

During the play, the journalist has to interview an aged filmmaker who specialized in B movies featuring voluptuous women and who continues to be, as the journalist puts it, “a breast buff”. The posters for his movies are pretty funny:

I was delighted to see one of the actors from Farragut North, which I saw last fall at the same theater. And one of the actors was the guy who owns the wine shop on Main Street. We all had a great time, and I think we’ll do it agin. Soon, I hope!

Well, yesterday was not fun.

It kicked off with a series of conference calls at 7 am which ran until 1:00 pm. When they ended, I headed to the Big Town to meet with the Family Law Facilitator again. She is in the Big Town one day a month; otherwise, she’s at the county seat, which is about a 4 hour round trip drive. And she won’t be in the Big Town next month, since it’s Memorial Day, so it was now or the end of June.

Fortunately, my valiant sister took me to the courthouse, along with a dopy Star. Star’s day was almost as enjoyable as mine, starting with an early appointment with Dr. Karen. Star needed some shots and tests and other unpleasant things. Star’s murky past makes these things more stressful for her than the average dog, so Dr. Karen prescribed dog valium to help make the ordeal more bearable.

It helped, but Star still stayed on Megan’s lap as much as she could (all 54 pounds of her), shivering with terror as the kind vet staff took care of her. So she was glad to crash on the duvet in the back seat of Megan’s car as we went to the courthouse.

Much like Star (though not actually sitting on my sister’s lap), having my sister with me made a big difference. It was good to have her there while Deborah explained the paperwork to me. It turns out that what the clerk told me last month is inaccurate. I still have a package of paperwork to send to John for him to sign and have notarized and send back to me. When I get it, I have to sign and get my signature notarized, and then send it to Deborah, who will file it with the court.

Deborah has filed the paperwork we have so far with the court, and apparently everything flows from the day that John signed the first thing she “served’ him with, which was April 1. According to Deborah, I can get married again on October 2. When she told me that, I instinctively cried out “No!” without even thinking about it, to her amusement and Megan’s. It’s beyond me why people who get divorced ever get married again.

I still don’t really understand how it all works, but Deborah assures me that it’s proceeding well and that we can handle the rest of it by mail. Megan and Rob are going to the county seat one of these days to see Rob’s eye doctor, so if I do need to see Deborah in person I can ride there with them.

On the way home, I said to Megan that although this is a remote area, it certainly attracts amazing people, like Dr. Karen and Deborah, who used to be a public defender in LA. I don’t know that I could find people like this in a big city, and I feel lucky to have them in my life. And as always, I’m thankful for my sister, who makes the bad times better and the good times great.

On Friday, I wrapped up some work and some presents for Jessica and headed over to the family property for Jessica’s birthday BBQ.

It had been a while since I’d been over there, and things are rocking and rolling in the garden:

Those are onions and garlic in the foreground, with a new frame for peas and beans on the right – my sibs were discontented with the frames last year – and behind them, you can see the party palace, with the fire ring and grills. If you look really carefully in the background on the left, you’ll see the vats of compost tea, used to fertilize this produce extravaganza along with the adjacent orchard. I owe you a post on the orchard and garden developments so far this year.

It was a beautiful afternoon, but windy, as spring days often are here. Jonathan and Jessica used the golf cart to transport wood for the fire. it’s always good to have a real fireman show you how to make a fire:

Jessica practiced carefully. She’s a quick learner:

Megan had marinated a pork shoulder in lime juice and spices, and set it to cook slowly on the grill for several hours. It was removed to the oven to make room for Jonathan to grill onions and peppers. These were peeled and sliced and served up with the pork, black beans, and shredded cheese on tortillas for a delicious dinner. Lichen joined us and we had a great time.

When the grown-up talk got too boring for Jessica, she read (“Really, Memmin, have you ever known me to be without a book?”):

Her current read is called Graceling and it looks pretty interesting. According to school tests, Jessica is reading at a college level. Not bad for someone who just turned ten.

When we interrupted the reading, or tried to, Jessica said “Four more pages!”, usually without looking up. Erica explained that when she was a child, she asked her mother for something while her mother was reading, and her mother said, “Four more pages,” meaning that she would attend to Erica’s needs when she had finished her book. Eventually “Four more pages” got to mean, “Leave me alone, I’m reading,” regardless of the number of pages actually left, which is how the third generation of that family’s reading ladies uses it.

We were able to pull Jessica away from her book long enough to open her presents and have some cake. Megan bought the cake at a bakery, and it was chocolate with raspberry filling and buttercream frosting, with roses and “Happy Birthday Jessica” on it. Megan had even found candles whose flames burned the same color as the candles.

As for the presents, Megan gave Jessica a lemon clock kit (with lemon); a make it yourself bath bomb kit; and a book on totally irresponsible science experiments, along with a big box of Whoppers, Jessica’s favorite candy. I gave Jessica a pair of real, though tiny pearl stud earrings set in 14 karat gold. Jessica loved the book of experiments (and the Whoppers), and I think she would have been totally happy with just those. She is the least materialistic kid I have ever met.

Erica has done an amazing job over the past decade. I can’t wait to see what the next decade brings!

Megan’s way of welcoming me home

As you can see, Megan replenished the laundry supplies while I was gone. Megan’s little house has wiring even more eccentric than mine, and considerably weaker. She can’t run a washer or dryer, so she uses mine. She usually keeps the laundry room supplied, but due to one thing and other, we were running low and I made a note on the whiteboard shopping list before I left for the city.

I thought it was so sweet to find that little note! She also opened up the house for me, so it wouldn’t be hot when I got home in the late afternoon.

While Megan was shopping, Rob had not been idle, installing a screen door on the balcony. Here you see it looking from the inside out to the balcony:

You can see that some of the roses are still a little remedial. I treated them before I left, and Megan also squirted them with compost tea from the property to work on the black spot and powder mold that is plaguing them. Hopefully they will improve along with the weather.

Here’s looking from the balcony into the sleeping loft:

We still need to get a doorknob and some way of keeping the door closed, but it came with the metal reinforcements at the bottom, and I’m hoping that it will be kitty proof. One of the challenges of living in a house shaped like an overturned rowboat is that heat tends to rise and stay in the sleeping loft. It gets pretty warm up there if it’s anything over 65 degrees outside, so it would be great if I can keep the door open at night during the warmer months.

Rob and I bought the door a couple of weeks ago. The door, like many (most?) of the doors in the houses James designed and built, is an odd size, but it turns out that there is a guy in Hooterville itself who sells doors and windows of all shapes and sizes. So Rob and I hopped in the truck and went to his little establishment in the woods. This door actually fit with a couple of minor adjustments by my fearless brother-in-law, and it was nice to shop local.

When I was getting ready to leave* for Jessica’s birthday BBQ on Friday, my neighbor Aaron stopped by to tell me that Mark had asked him to get rid of the disused hot tub in my backyard. Yay! He and his puppy Lola took a look at it, and he thinks he can remove it in the next few days. I am hideously excited. Stay tuned…

*I had a bottle of wine in each hand, which I was loading into the car. Slightly embarrassing. The car was also full of all the folding chairs I could find, following Megan’s text asking me “Do you have any chaos we can stuff in the car to take with us?” Good old autocorrect.

After Megan and I closed up shop on Saturday, we stopped at the garden center to get my delayed ground cover:

It’s a plant called Lithadora, which sounds like a Harry Potter character, and this type is named White Star. I think it will look nice with the heather* and alyssum in the areas by the shed (see the fourth and fifth pictures). The alyssum is beginning to revive after the winter.

We were greeted enthusiastically by the owner’s beautiful dogs, Rio (left) and Rusty:

Part of the enthusiasm stems from the fact that Megan almost always gives them treats. Rusty in particular kept sniffing the pocket where the treats usually are, ever hopeful. Unfortunately, this time, she didn’t have any. The boys settled for pets and ushered us around.

Megan bought some praying mantises, still in their cocoons, which will act as pest control in the family garden and orchard. Apparently there are 100-200 mantises in each cocoon. She already has ladybugs hard at work over there.

We packed up the car with our purchases, petted the dogs goodbye (one last sniff from Rusty), and headed home. As we approached Little River, Megan suggested that we stop in at the historic Inn and have a drink, which we did.

We perched on bar stools in the Whale Watch Bar. As its name suggests, it has a stunning view of the ocean, even on a cloudy day like this one:

and you can actually see whales passing by during their annual migrations.

This is the first picture I have ever taken with my iPhone! And of course Megan had to show me how to do it and then how to post it to Facebook, since she had her iPhone for ages before I got mine.

I had a Melon Ball and Megan had a Cosmo, and we shared a plate of award-winning crab cakes before heading home.

It was a nice end to a busy day.

*I was amused to note when I bought these plants that their proper name is Erica. Amused because of the twins on Degrassi (Junior) High who were named Erica and Heather. Years later, I finally get the joke. I’m quick like that.

It wasn’t all storms last weekend, though.

On Friday, I did an extra shift at the jobette to finish up a project. I finished about half an hour later than I expected, crushing my grandiose dreams of stopping at the nursery for more ground cover. I had an appointment with the wonderful Angelika that afternoon to get my highlights refreshed, so I called her to tell her I was running late and got there as soon as I could.

I love Angelika’s little salon in the woods. Everything smelled like lavender and all the rush went out of me as she “painted” my hair two different colors (she literally painted some of it with a brush) and put it in paper to process. She deep conditioned it when it was done, and even waxed my eyebrows. We chatted and caught up on each other’s lives, and before I knew it, it was almost 5:30!

The next morning, Rob called me around 8:30 to ask me if I was ready to go to our 10:00 swim class. Since I was still in my PJs, the answer was “no”. His plan, unbeknownst to me, was to go to the Gro for smokes, then the grocery store in the Village for a travel mug, his having disappreared, and then the coffee shop for coffee to put in the mug. I threw some clothes on, petted the kitties, and raced out the door.

We accomplished all the java-related chores before hitting the pool (on time) for the last lesson of the series. They start again in two weeks. Then Rob dropped me off at the jobette.

Megan met me there a couple of hours before we closed, and she did a great job of helping me when there were several visitors at once. In fact, our Chairman and his wife were completely charmed by her before they knew she was my sister. And speaking of charming: a visitor from San Francisco gave me the ring off her finger!

I admired it in passing while answering her question, and she gave it to me to try it on. Then she wouldn’t take it back*. It’s from SF MOMA and I am wearing it right now, the sun slanting through the colorful stripes:

It looks great with my sparkly gel manicure.

The benevolent visitor also wrote a Haiku in celebration of First Friday. Every month, we have a different theme, and this month it was Haiku. Our County seat, Ukiah, is Haiku spelled backwards, so they have a festival every year. We joined in with ikebana, an ikebana demonstration, and do it yourself Haiku.

The arrangements were beautiful.

This one reads:

This one says:

Parducci winery poured that night, and this arrangement cleverly incorporated their wine bottles:

This one was still in our conference room when I took the picture. I love the vase:

Having Megan there made it so much more fun, too.

*Megan told me later that she almost told her that she liked the bracelet she was wearing – leather with mother of pearl buttons – but was afraid the generous visitor would give that away, too!

As always this time of year, Dad has been on my mind more than usual. Having said that, not a day goes by that I don’t think about him, and I don’t expect that to change.

On Thursday, Megan and I shared a glass of wine and toasted Dad: “Here’s to the Old Bear. He wasn’t so bad!” This was a joke Dad used to make – he said that he’d leave us his wine collection in his Will, and every year, we should drink some and toast him in this way. I think the wonderful Margaret inherited the wine – and I hope she drank it – but my siblings and I do toast Dad this way, more than once a year.

On Friday, Megan and I ran a few errands in town and then took Star for a walk on the headlands. It was a beautiful day:

Dad loved the ocean, and he loved to walk. And he loved to walk with dogs. I’m sure he would have appreciated how Megan rescued Star and how happy Star is now:

After all, his beloved dog Jesse was rescued* by Megan as well, and Dad adored that dog:

Not too many people would have paid a couple of thousand dollars to fly and quarantine a 9 year old mutt so he could live out his golden years in golden splendor in Wimbledon. But Dad was a special person.

We enjoyed the sunshine and each other’s company and the smell of the ocean. In a way, he was there with us. After all, he is always in our hearts.

*You can read about Jesse’s rescue here.