Suzy Says

Perfect Poppy

On summer solstice Sunday, Megan and I headed to the Big Town to say farewell to my late friend Joel. Not far from the same place traffic ground to a halt this winter, Megan and I actually witnessed an accident as it occurred.

A guy in a white truck came around the corner, hit a telephone pole, snapping it off, and then hit a power pole, where the truck (a) came to a halt; (2) had its hood peeled open like a sardine can, right in front of our eyes. Megan pulled into a driveway across the highway from the accident and grabbed her EMT kit from the trunk. She went over to check on the passengers as gas poured from the totaled truck.

I stayed where I was, since I knew from my siblings’ years of EMS that unnecessary observers are not welcome on scene, and there was nothing I could do to help. Megan later told me that the passengers were fine, not intoxicated, and that something just failed in the truck, making the driver lose control as he came around one of the many curves.

Everyone was fine, and someone had called 911 and started controlling traffic by the time we got back on the road, passing the ambulance, sheriff, and highway patrol cars racing to the scene. On our way home, they were still on scene.

Arriving at Joel’s service, however, everything was serene. The Botanical Gardens donated the use of one of the gardens in honor of his status as a Master Gardener. It was a beautiful day, and friends and family gathered among the blooms and fruit trees to remember Joel: his humor, his gift for writing, his compassion and activism in working with homeless youth, the great love he and his husband Jim shared, and how their marriage just made their love stronger and deeper. Jim now wears both wedding rings and feels that Joel is still with him. There were tears, but there was also love and laughter, and that’s the way Joel would have wanted it.

I turned my focus from the dark side to the bright side over the weekend, or from one side of the circle of life to the other, if you will, celebrating Megan’s birthday. Megan’s birthday falls on the Memorial Day weekend (“First long weekend of the summer!”) and Jonathan’s on Labor Day weekend (“Last long weekend of the summer!”), and one of the great things about living here is that I can actually celebrate with them.

When I lived in San Francisco, I learned the hard way that traffic prohibited my visiting over holiday weekends in the summer, since most Bay Area residents had the same idea of coming here. Now my commute is just down the Ridge, no traffic involved.

Actually, it was a little further, since I had to go to the jobette and back in the Big Town, but still. Much better than being stranded on the approach to the Golden Gate Bridge for an hour!

It was a beautiful day. By the time I got there, the party was in full swing. Jarrett and his wonderful girlfriend Kalli:

came with Archi, formerly the world’s cutest puppy, to surprise Megan. I knew they were coming for over a month and it was hard not to accidentally blurt it out. Megan was surprised and delighted, though I missed seeing the surprise itself. Jarrett enjoyed the surprise we gave him on his birthday so much, he thought he’d give it back!

Erica, Jessica, and Lichen were there, too. Another friend stopped by who we hadn’t seen for a while. Jessica hadn’t met her before, and wasted no time in walking up to her, shaking hands, and saying, “Hi, I’m Jessica,” unprompted by anyone. Needless to say, Jessica made a big impression (and a new friend). Jessica and I talked about a lot of things, including Marie Antoinette. Jessica’s take is that the tragic Queen’s “lack of understanding of statecraft” caused her untimely demise. She is eleven, right?

Our spokesjessica is seen here wearing a dress made by her multi-talented mother.

Jessica also supervised Jonathan at the barbecue:

That’s Lichen perched on the fire ring after a long day of work. Here’s Archi hoping that Jonathan will drop some food in the fair game zone:

He still has the same adorable “worry” wrinkles between his ears as he did when he was a baby.

Jonathan had made a cherry pie from scratch, and Erica made two pies as well:

They were layered coconut and chocolate cream. Why have one or the other when you can have both? That’s pretty much Erica’s philosophy about everything. All the pies were incredible. I think for my birthday, I’ll just have pie and forget about the dinner. Isn’t that one of the few perks of being a grown up?

When I was ready to leave, Jessica offered her arm to me and said, “May I escort you to your car?” When we got there, she gave me a kiss and a curtsy, in that order. I love that kid.

The next day, I went over to see Jarrett and Kalli before they took off. They had camped in the giant garden overnight, discovering that a 70 pound dog + 2 people = no room. My timing was excellent, because my brother was making pancakes from scratch, served with strawberries from the garden and honey from the family bees:

It was great having breakfast together in the sunshine. I didn’t even have to feel sad to see Jarrett and Kalli go, since they are coming back to celebrate her birthday in July with 20 or so of their closest friends. Summer’s here! Let the fun begin!

Things have been on the dark side during these bright spring days. My boss/partner/friend of decades lost his father and aunt within days of each other; his uncle received Last Rites last night; my brother’s friend lost her mother just days after her first grandchild was born; and, lastly and most shockingly, my friend J died last week.

J was one of the grooms in the beautiful wedding last summer that was one of the high points of the year for me. I will never forget the joy and love with which these two were finally able to claim each other after a quarter of a century together. I expected their married life together to be a long and happy one. It was happy, but it was cut short by J’s death of complications following surgery. His widower has nothing but good words to say about the dedicated and hard-working staff at the hospital, who all worked so hard to try and save him.

He was 69.

I have been in daily touch with his widower, who is doing better than I expected. He stopped by the jobette this week after making the necessary arrangements and I was impressed by his strength and courage. He will plan a celebration of his husband’s life at a later date, which will be presided over by the Sikh who married them just nine short months ago.

It just feels like there’s been too much death, too much loss lately. May has been the new August this year. I hope things get brighter and happier for all concerned, and I wish those who have lost loved ones the comfort of happy memories as well as the strength to bear the sad ones.

Take that, 11!

Something about working on Saturday always makes me feel like I’m being punished. It’s like detention. No one else has to work but you! No wonder I love The Breakfast Club so much. Though it does beg the question of whether we really ever get out of high school.

Even though Friday’s fun factor has decreased precipitously now that work looms on Saturday, last Friday was a good one indeed – we celebrated Jessica’s 11th birthday three days after the actual event.

We all gathered at the family property, where I caught up on what was happening in the garden. The peach trees are covered in little peachlets, fuzzy little signs of pies to come:

Strawberries are beginning to blush from their beds at the foot of the fruit trees:

Our state flower, the California poppy, blazed in the afternoon sun:

Scout, Jonathan’s epically skittish mini-cat (she’s still about the size of a nine month old kitten), was brave enough to join the festivities:

You can only pet her inside Jonathan’s place, but actually hanging around the people was a pretty big step forward for her. We also got to watch her (unsuccessfully) stalking a quail, which was amusing for us, if not for Scout. She got a pulled pork consolation prize, though.

Lichen joined us for a delicious dinner ordered by the birthday girl: pulled pork with grilled onions and peppers, home-made salsa, black beans, and tortillas, followed by German chocolate cupcakes made by Erica and served in little pink fairy cups:

She caramelized the coconut in some kind of Indian sugar, as well as using chunks of pecans. it was amazing, like everything Erica makes – including Jessica. Erica collapsed in laughter when I said that Jessica was the logical outcome of Erica’s love of extreme crafting: “I’m going to make an entire human being! And she’s going to be awesome!” We all agreed that she is.

Jessica was delighted with her gifts: a chemistry set, the sequel to the Miss Peregrine book we gave her at Christmas, but best of all, the next book in Rick Riordan’s Olympus series, which doesn’t come out until October. Still, she is clearly enjoying the anticipation:

It seems that the BBQ season is officially open around here. We have Megan’s birthday coming up over Memorial Day weekend, and we will also have a June-a-palooza at some point since my birthday, Erica’s, Lu’s and Monica’s are all in that merry month. Lots to look forward to!

If it’s Friday, it must be play day…

Last Friday, I thoroughly enjoyed a teenage production of The Breakfast Club, and this Friday, Megan, Rob and I attended a performance of the play Other Desert Cities. Daughter Brooke, a Democrat, author, and survivor of a nervous breakdown (not necessarily in that order) returns home to Palm Springs for Christmas with her parents, former Hollywood royalty and current Republicans (pretty much in that order). During the course of the visit, a long-held family secret is shockingly revealed.

During intermission, we were surprised and delighted to see our former swimming teacher, Sallie. Her hair was longer and her smile and hugs as wonderful as ever. I wish I could resume swimming lessons on Saturdays, but unfortunately, I am resuming work at the jobette on Saturdays instead, just in time to miss the Kentucky Derby, my favorite sporting event of the year. Adult swim classes are now at 11:30 and I have to start work at 10. Maybe Megan and Rob can fit it in, but there’s a lot going on over the garden in the spring and the summer. We’ll see.

We took Wednesday for our evening out, and amazingly, it was the first time Megan had driven her! Megan thought it handled well and is pretty good overall, though like me she finds it a little on the fancy side. She’s less horrified by the gangster dark tinting than I am, so I may be overreacting as per usual. I haven’t had it removed yet and maybe I’ll just let it be.

We had a wonderful time, and we’re looking forward to the rest of the theater’s season!

Peach Blossoms

We recently had an unseasonable BBQ at the family property with my sibs’ land partners, Dave and Jennifer.

The property is huge, and my sibs couldn’t afford to buy it all on their own, and neither could Dave and Jennifer, so they joined forces and bought it together. How’s that for cooperation?

Big Bird* would be proud.

The market crash in 2008 derailed their plans to build, but it looks like they will break ground this spring! They are working with an architect to draw up plans, but most of the work will be done by Dave, his brothers, and my brothers. We are all pretty excited about this.

Dave and Jennifer came for a weekend, bringing two of their horses all the way from distant Grass Valley, which I think I passed on the epic trip to Reno last year. It must be a long and slow drive on these curvy roads with thousands of pounds of horses.

The orchard is beginning to bloom, as you see above, and garlic is merrily sprouting through the hay. Our friend with the heavy machinery who made this entire garden possible came by and dug two 20 foot long trenches to plant raspberries in, and my brother and brother-in-law are busy digging another well:

Never a dull moment over at the property.

We gathered around the fire on the evening of the BBQ, and when dinner was ready, we gathered around the Waltons-sized picnic table my brother built last year. At some point, someone (I think it was Dave) asked, “Where do you think we’ll be 20 years from now?” and I said, “Right here!”

I hope I’m right.

*Who represents the average six year old, or my mental age.

Little salon in the big woods

It was high time to get my hair cut and re-blonded. I made my way to Angelika’s little salon in the big woods.

You can tell you’re approaching her driveway because of the always-decorated trees. Even the gate is welcoming and tinselly:

You can feel yourself relax when you get there. I love the little sign on her salon:

“Once upon a time is now, as is happily ever after”
When you go inside, it’s warm and cozy and scented with lavender. It’s a pretty space to get more pretty in:

Angelika is meticulous about highlights not being stripy (stripes look good on Audrey, but not on her staff). She said that when Lichen does her highlights, she’s always asking him to make the sections thinner. She actually uses a paintbrush on mine, and wraps it in some kind of special paper to process. I’ve had foil before, but never paper. Even Lichen had to learn how to use it.

While the three shades of blonde were blonding me, Angelika and I caught up. She said that it was a funny coincidence that I’d called her for an appointment, since she was going to call me and I beat her to it. She was heading to Germany for her parents’ 50th wedding anniversary and her 30th high school reunion (as I write, she is there) and wanted to check in with me to see if I needed anything since she’d be gone for a month. So it was meant to be!

I realize that I only know three people whose parents are a) still alive* and 2) still married. Angelika’s parents still live in the house she grew up in, and of all her classmates, she is the only one who doesn’t live in Germany. I don’t think Europeans have the same culture about moving that we do in North America.

With my hair and spirits refreshed, I made my way home in the winter sunset.

*My boss/partner lost his father at the age of 91 on Sunday. His father’s final words to him were “You’re a fine man.”

Open At Last!

In addition to our evening out, Megan and I took the time to go and visit Erica and Jessica. Being the country mice that we are, we also decided to enjoy the sights of the other towns along the way, stopping at the farm stand for fresh walnuts and looking around the shops. It was a beautiful day and the town was full of tourists, now immediately recognizable to me (unlike when I was one). The area has been getting some good press lately, so that and the lovely weather were probably why it was so busy.

We passed the museum on our way, and were astonished to see that it was open. In all the years I have visited here, and the few I have lived here, it has never, ever been open. So we had to stop in and look around. We were warmly welcomed:

The main building, whose bell tower I cut off in the first picture*, was the schoolhouse, and still has some of the small, old fashioned desks with inkwells. There is an exhibit of artifacts from the Pomo tribe, and a map showing that they used to live in this entire county, before the fort was built and the natives displaced with almost no sign of their lost, ancient civilization. The baskets and arrowheads that had survived were beautiful, though, and I’m glad that they have been preserved.

Megan and I didn’t realize that the museum also had a couple of buildings behind the former schoolhouse, one housing ancient farm equipment like this:

It was made at 427 Market Street in San Francisco, which looks like this now:

I’m pretty sure it looked very different then.

The last building housed artifacts from the original country store, saddles and cider presses and antique clothes, including an actual leopardskin coat. There was a picture of the coat’s owner, a beloved local lady, and her husband on their wedding day in the 1920s as well as a picture of them on their 50th wedding anniversary, wearing the very same wedding clothes. So sweet!

We would have liked to have spent more time, but we were late for our date with Erica and Jessica. Erica had made incredible Indian food** for a late lunch, and while she put on the finishing touches, Jessica and I sat at the table in the kitchen, which had placemats showing different areas of the world. I had Asia, and Jessica had Africa. She suggested that we play a game where we quizzed each other on the country capitals on each other’s placemats. When you got one wrong, it was the other person’s turn to ask.

Me: So…it’s like, “Work, work, work…feel stupid?”

Jessica (shaking her head): You think really differently than we do.

You would, too, if you were as bad at guessing/knowing African capitals as I am. I think I only got Cairo. Jessica, on the other hand, even knew what the capitals of the endless -Stans were.

In addition to making her aged Auntie look bad, Jessica is writing a play in which twins find out that one sister is Death and the other is Life. It’s pretty good so far. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that she’s only 10, though she is beginning to look as if she is closer to womanhood than girlhood as her 11th birthday fast approaches in April.

It was a great visit and I promise myself to see them again before Jessica is 11. Can she do it? Easier than learning African capitals. Right?

*I lent my brother my camera to document the new well he’s digging at the family property. I’m getting better at using my iPhone for pictures…except for this one!

**When I told a friend about the amazing Indian food, she asked me, “Was it dot or feather?” Lunch was dot and the museum was feather. 🙂

This week was a pretty busy one: usual jobette from Monday through Wednesday with the enhancement of 6 am calls on Tuesday and Wednesday; fourth quarter calls starting at 7 am on Thursday and Friday; and the unpleasant surprise of having to work on Saturday. I don’t usually mind filling in once in a while, but why did it have to be this week?

Our good friend Paul turned up on Tuesday. I was sorry that we were all working on Tuesday and Wednesday while he was here, and he drove back to San Francisco on Thursday. He is now making his way to LA to visit his grandchildren, then down to San Diego to visit some cousins, then back up to SF To see his uncle and then come back up here next weekend when none of us (I hope) are working.

Faithful readers may remember that I stayed with Paul in Florida one winter a few years ago, and that he took me on a tour of the Hamptons, where he has spent the summers cooking for the rich and (in)famous for more than 20 years. He has been our friend since he and my siblings lived on boats at Pier 39, back in the days before the sea lions moved in, with their twin specialties of barking and stinking. I used to be able to hear them from my apartment on Russian Hill, though I thankfully couldn’t smell them.

Being the hostess with the leastest, I had shamelessly asked Paul if he’d make me dinner when he had told me he was coming to visit. After we hugged hello and caught up a bit, I asked him what he was making for dinner. Being a guy, he had not planned or shopped. So we perused the contents of the refrigerator and freezer (like my Dad, and to a lesser extent, Self, Paul has mastered the art of making something good with whatever is on hand). We needed a few more things, so we and Wednesday went back down to the Gro and bought them.

Paul made chicken Francese, which was new to me and something like this, with Paul’s enhancements. With it, he roasted potatoes and zucchini. It was delicious! The next night, it was crispy fried shrimp in a Gorgonzola herb sauce over fresh pasta. It’s very relaxing to sit on the couch and sip wine while a professional cook makes dinner for you. I could get used to this.

I’m ending the year the same way I started it – in my beloved San Francisco. This was a banner year for trips to the City: 9, an all-time high since moving to Hooterville four years ago. There was a lot more travel this year, some less fun (Atlanta) than others (LA).

This was a year full of endings and beginnings. I finally got divorced after almost a decade of being separated. While it was good to get the formalities out of the way after a long separation, it was still sad to put “The End” on our story. I am grateful that John and I are still friends and have many happy memories of our many years together. I did not manage to stay out of court, though on an unrelated matter. Summertime subpoenas have to stop! New year’s resolution: a subpoena- and court-free year.

The loss of our beloved Schatzi cast a shadow over the latter part of the year, a loss that resonates through every day, though I am thankful she was in our lives as long as she was. She was an unforgettable gift.

A new dog found her way into our lives (temporarily) at the Christmas season, when we were least looking for one, in the form of Stella the foster dog. There is no better way to honor our Schatzi than by rescuing another dog.

I said goodbye to my battered old car Miss Scarlett and said hello to a newer, fancier one, which took some getting used to.

I started my moments. This was inspired by a friend who writes down something funny or beautiful or delightful that happens to her each day on a slip of paper and then puts it in a jar. At the end of the year she reads all the slips of paper and remembers all the great things that happened.

This was fun to do for a year and a good exercise in much needed-discipline. It really made me appreciate the small moments every day: cuddling with the cats; the sun setting over the Pacific; a spider web jeweled with dew.

Favorite books of the year: Ann Leary’s The Good House, a great portrait of small town life; and the utterly poetic Ordinary Grace. I also read two outstanding books about Detroit, a place near and dear to my heart – Detroit: An American Autopsy and Detroit City Is the Place to Be. The charasmatic Charlie LeDuff, the author of “Autopsy”, also showed the equally charasmatic Anthony Bourdain around Detroit on an episode of “Parts Unknown”, which is well worth watching.

I only read 83 books this year, a significant drop from last year’s 103, a continuing decline which I attribute to the more work, less fun aspect of the new (though not improved) economy.

Rainfall for the season: 5.14 inches. Last year at this time: 24.20. The drought is getting alarming. January and February of 2013 were the driest in recorded history in California. People in the Village are having water delivered!

No power outages so far this season. None! There were 6 at this time last year.

Here’s what happened to our heroine this year:

January:

Started the year off right by heading to San Francisco. Got a new look for my old car and a new iPhone (which has yet to ruin and/or take over my life, possibly due to the lack of cell service here). Wednesday was also Weirdsday. However, Friday was Funday. Yet another trip to San Francisco, this time for (mostly) professional reasons. Royal Treasures of the Louvre at the Legion of Honor. An epic day to get my photo taken for my work website. Spoiler alert: I hated the finished product, although my hair looked awesome.

February:

The cats react to a visiting chicken. An update on Archi, The World’s Cutest Puppy. Beautiful woodworking. Scout’s vet adventure. My intrepid brother takes a Polar Plunge.

March:

Schatzi gets a check-up. Little did we know it would be her last one and that we only had five months left with our beloved girl. Divorce and taxes. Why not? Dad’s birthday. First day of spring. Working on the endless divorce paperwork. A lovely trip to the South Coast.

April:

A late season storm. Haiku. Jessica turns ten! In San Francisco. Breakfast at Swan Oyster Depot. There isn’t a better start to the day. My welcome home included a screen door on the sleeping loft balcony, which has made life about 1,000% better. Thank you, Rob! Jessica’s birthday BBQ. More divorce paperwork, with moral support from my sister. An evening at the theatah.

My blog also turned twelve on April 20, though I failed to note the fact. Sorry, little blog!

May:

Amazing woodworking show. A walk with Star and drinks with Monica in Little River. Birth of an orchard. An early birthday celebration for Megan. A delightful dinner with delightful friends. The end (almost) of the decayed old hot tub. Needless to say, the motor is still there. Megan’s actual birthday, complete with a hand-made picnic table and a daring cliff rescue, both courtesy of our intrepid brother.

June:

Birthday baseball in beautiful San Francisco. Impressionists on the Water at the Legion of Honor. Back home for my birthday BBQ. Monica’s birthday party.

July:

A cavalcade of health problems: Megan’s flu; Jessica’s broken leg; Clyde’s mystery illness. Everyone on the mend. Thinking about summers past. The truth about Schatzi. Wedding plans and peaches.

August:

A lovely stroll with Star and my sister. A frantic Friday. Clyde meets the mysterious Slobber Monster. Megan takes care of the patient. The devastating loss of our much loved Schatzi. A day at the beach with Star. The twelfth anniversary of our adored father’s sudden death. I will never stop missing him until I catch up with him. How to make a really expensive peach pie. A beautiful, joyous wedding. A surprise in the mail – and at the door.

September:

Celebrating our incredible brother’s birthday. A long drive to Reno. Enjoying the spa. Back home in the fresh air! Megan’s last gift to her beloved girl. The County fair. The wonder of a south coast safari. A look around a delightfully eccentric local town.

October:

Last minute car repair before heading to San Francisco. My divorce becomes final as I drive across the Golden Gate Bridge. A soirée in the Village. Audrey does not enjoy her visit to the vet. A local landmark reopens. An epic journey to Los Angeles. The delights of Santa Monica. The glamor of Hollywood. A fascinating tour of downtown LA. A virtual walk with Megan and Star at Big River.

November:

A happy Halloween. A quick trip to Atlanta. The delights of Hockney and Bulgari at the De Young – not to mention the view from the top. A late season barbecue with family and friends. The beginning of the end of Miss Scarlett. Thanksgiving preparations.

December:

Thanksgiving recap. A conference starring my boss. So proud! A long and busy day. The end of the road for Miss Scarlett. ~sob~ Of frozen pipes and Christmas trees. Puppies! And meeting Stella. A surprise dinner and a play for our nephew, Jarrett. A brand new (well, to me) car! Working hard – or hardly working? A merry Christmas.

Thanks for coming along with me on another year of adventures, great and small. I wish you all a joyful and healthy new year!

Sunny Christmas Morning

Our Christmas Day (aka Boxing Day or St. Stephen’s Day, neither of which exist here in the US of A) dawned sunny and beautiful, as you can see above. As the day progressed, it warmed up enough to have the doors open while I cleaned the house and got everything ready for the feast:

You can see my world famous cheese biscuits in the Wedgwood biscuit barrel, salad in the matching bowl, as well as the family silver and wine glasses. My brother smoked the ham over wood Lichen trimmed from the apple, peach and cherry trees on the family property, glazing it with honey from our bees (who sadly perished in the extreme cold snap earlier this month), bourbon, shallots, and other secret ingredients. He also made a lemon tart to go with the mincemeat tarts.

Erica and Jessica appeared in the afternoon bearing a beribboned sprig of mistletoe, Jessica festively dressed in velvet and sporting Gucci loafers:

Here’s a close up of her amazing shoes, which she found at a thrift store for $5:

As she said, “What are the chances of finding Gucci shoes in a thrift store? In my size?” I would have been as thrilled as she was. I almost was, to tell you the truth.

Jessica also came up with the perfect name for the new car: Wednesday, as in Addams. Dark, gothic, and a little dangerous. I’m pretty sure Wednesday would embrace the tinting, though.

Dinner was magically delicious, and after dinner, we opened our stockings. If I do say so myself, I think everyone was really pleased with them this year, from the chocolate ammo in reusable ammo boxes for the boys to the fantastic Sephora skincare set for Megan to the sparkly skull ring and Shakespearean insult gum for Erica.

We pulled the Christmas crackers, put on our hats, groaned at the jokes, and then had the traditional story reading of the magical Red Ranger Came Calling. If you’re not familiar with this delightful tale, you owe it to yourself to pick up a copy and correct this shocking oversight. Jessica started off the reading:

Later, she and Jonathan took turns:

I honestly don’t know who did a better job. It was a wonderful moment, and it’s nice to know that Dad’s legacy of reading aloud lives on.

Needless to say, I woke up to a huge mess this morning. But as a wise man once said, “One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.”

Wow, I really have a lot of catching up to do! Today I’m getting ready for a quick and business-like trip to San Francisco, and I haven’t even told you about Thanksgiving yet.

In keeping with the the theme, I was clearly having too much fun at Thanksgiving to take pictures. I took pictures of the outdoor living room after I set it up for guests:

And the table indoors, with my American grandmother’s wineglasses (still unscathed!) and my English grandmother’s ivory-handled silver and Wedgwood:

But that was it. I didn’t even take a picture of Jessica!

It was a lovely, sunny day, as you can see in the outdoor picture, though it did get chilly once darkness fell. My brother brought over a load of firewood so people could (and did) sit outside. My little house was overflowing with friends, family, food, and good cheer.

The turkey, if I do say so myself, came out perfect, despite the challenges of my odd little oven. I simply did it Nana style (she of the wineglasses): rubbed with butter, dusted with sage, salt and pepper. I really think a free range, organic bird makes all the difference. With it, we had the stuffing Jonathan made, along with his excellent gravy and mashed Yukon Gold potatoes and my famous cranberry-bourbon relish. We also had a salad of bitter greens with roasted pears and fresh pomegranate, with a honey-shallot dressing.

Erica brought rolls made with delicata squash from the family garden. To go with them, she made a beurre composé with clementine zest, paprika, and Strega liqueur which was out of this world. She also brought Brussels sprouts made in a magical Erica way which vanished almost immediately, and THREE pies. Two were made of a special squash with home-made sea salted caramel (Erica is, after all, the girl who makes her own chocolate nib spiked marshmallows and graham crackers from scratch before making s’mores), and one was an apple pie for Jonathan, who famously dislikes pumpkin pie.

However, the squash pies won him over with their truffley goodness (or is it evilness?) and the apple pie was almost as unscathed as the wineglasses when the party was over.

We talked to our good friend Paul, who wasn’t able to be here and will also not make it for Christmas, though he is planning to visit in January. It looks like a quiet Christmas this year, since Jarrett has to work and I think Lichen said he was going to visit his birth family in SoCal this year. Lichen turned up for Thanksgiving bearing gifts: a sprig of blue hydrangea he had dried himself for Jessica (which just happened to match her Erica Original dress); shower gels for Megan and me; and the bottle of Strega for Erica, which was immediately put to good use in the beurre composé merveilleux. Only Lichen would bring gifts on a non gift holiday only days after his own birthday.

He was joined in his usual eating spot on the stairs by Audrey, who loves Lichen. She slunk around and allowed other people to admire her before hanging out with her buddy. Clyde was his charming party self, working the room for pets. I thought Roscoe was outside, but after everyone left, he appeared from upstairs, where he was likely hiding under the bed until the coast was clear.

It was an amazing Thanksgiving and I am incredibly grateful for my family, my friends, and my life in our little corner of the world.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I always say that organization is the key to surviving the holidays, but delegating helps, too.

As I type, Jonathan is making the stuffing, meaning that I get out of peeling chestnuts, which has now been officially decreed to be in violation of the Geneva convention. I did buy all the stuff for the stuffing, and chop up the bread ahead of time so it would be appropriately stalenized, and then dropped it all off at his place yesterday, so it’s not like I was no help.

Erica has made pies, rolls, and some kind of magic Brussels sprout thing. Megan called me from her fourth 12 hour night shift in a row last night to see if there was anything else we needed, though she had to run due to one patient needing to be restrained (if you ever need a hand restraining a crazy person, she’s your girl) and another having a heart attack. She valiantly bought the things for salad on her way home this morning and dropped them off at my place.

I peeled pears for the salad and prepped them while watching the 85th annual Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I was delighted by the Hello Kitty and Snoopy balloons as well as the always fabulous Rockettes. Not for the first time, I wondered if I’m the only one who would rather have it be mostly balloons and floats rather than insipid musical production numbers. I feel the same way about the Oscars: I wish it was mostly gowns and then the big awards and that’s it. I realize this is an unpopular view, however.

While peeling and thinking great thoughts like this, I noticed a huge white and brown bunny loping slowly by. I think it’s one of Mark’s pet rabbits. Fortunately, the kitties seemed more weirded out by the rabbit than anything, since I would hate to have to explain to my long-suffering landlord that my pets had exterminated his pet on a national holiday.

The Thanksgiving Bunny

I de-cobwebbed the house as best I could and set up the outdoor seating area. I just have to vacuum and the house will be about as good as it gets. Jonathan will be bringing over the stuffing pretty soon and I’ll get the big turkey in my tiny oven. I’m looking forward to a happy evening with my loved ones. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!

So I gave myself a little treat this morning.

Most days, I get up in the cold and dark, and you know how I love that. Today, it was still dark-ish, and the house was 46 degrees F (7C). I let the demanding Miss Audrey out, put on the outside lights, and then put on the heat and headed back upstairs to bed.

I snuggled down with Roscoe and went back to sleep. When I woke up, the sun was shining and the house was warm. I put on my sparkly new slippers with the warm, fuzzy insides and went to make coffee. Audrey came back inside and the boys went out…for about five minutes. Roscoe went back to bed and Clyde basked in front of the heater while Audrey had breakfast and I read Postsecret, my Sunday ritual.

I also gave myself a treat on Friday. Megan and I met Lu and her daughter Allie in town. We admired the Christmas trees at North Star Nursery (they always make it so hard to wait until after Thanksgiving to put up my tree) and bought some bulbs for indoor winter color. I know this sounds ridiculous to those of you with real winter, but I really miss color in the garden during the winter. I got some paper whites:

And an amaryllis bulb. I’ve never grown indoor plants before, so we’ll see how it goes. The paper whites are in the basket with river pebbles. Below it is a picture of my father at about the age of 9 (in 1940) with his friend (and later best man) Brian, with guns they found in a downed German plane. Below that is a card sent to my mother to congratulate her on her engagement to Dad in the late 1950s. It’s like a wonderfully sparkly valentine:

We ran a few errands and are pretty much ready for Thanksgiving later this week. Even buying groceries is fun with Megan and Star. We wrapped up the day with Gilmore Girls and Skinny Girl (“girling it up”, as Lu calls it) to keep my mind off my car problems. No matter what happens, we have each other and I have a lot to be thankful for on Thanksgiving and every day.

This morning, I dropped Miss Scarlett off to get two new tires put on, just in time for the rain that’s supposed to arrive tonight. Tires have a short life expectancy around here – they’re basically all members of the 27 Club. Maybe not even that old. If they last two years on the rocky, rough, rutted country roads, you’re doing well. Which is why I always feel like I’m buying tires. Because I am…

After leaving the car in the capable hands of the tire technicians, I walked to the jobette. It was nice to walk in the cool morning air, but a couple of blocks down the street, I was honked at. It turned out to be my friend Liz from the pool. She said they were all worried about me – I haven’t made it to the pool in the past couple of months due to my crazy work schedule(s) – and missed me. I explained some of what had happened and she was really sweet. I have promised myself to go tomorrow.

As I walked down the street, I felt so lucky to live in this odd little corner of the world, where people actually care about you, and to have somehow landed here, surrounded by friends and family. On Friday, we had a late season BBQ at my brother’s place with our friends Rik and Lu (and their dog Harlow, who is Star’s BFF), Lichen, and my siblings’ land partners, Dave and Jennifer, who were so kind and helpful during the Great Schatzi Search this summer. They are buying the property along with my siblings, and one of these days they will have a house on their half of the 68 acres, so they will be neighbors as well as friends.

The sun was setting and the moon was rising when I arrived:

My brother was manning the grill and everyone else was gathered around the fire pit*:

Lu and Rik went on a medical mission to Honduras earlier this year, where they helped villagers who hadn’t had any medical help in months or even years, and they are going back in February. They specified that they wanted to be posted to same village so they can check in on the same folks they met last year and see how they’re doing. I’m so proud of them for caring and making a difference, not just here but abroad as well.

After dinner we sat by the fire feeling as relaxed as Harlow looks here:

It was a good evening with good friends.

*Which used to be a well ring.

The evil elf

It was a happy Halloween this year. You may remember that last year it was raining and Erica tried everything to bribe Jessica to stay home. In case you were wondering, this is not a winning strategy. I don’t think there’s a kid alive who can resist the candy’n’costume combo.

This year, it was clear and beautiful:

I did not need the warm scarf I wore or the winter jacket, which I ended up taking off and lugging around. Where’s a lady’s maid when you need her? Oh, that’s right – they’re all at Downton Abbey.

We met up with Erica and Jessica in the Village, where Erica handed over Jessica’s overnight bag, somewhat surprising (though delighting) us. Erica was off to compete in a contest with her incredible handmade costume in a neighboring county and would be staying overnight there. Her parting words of wisdom were that Jessica should start trick or treating right away, while the candy donors were still fresh. So we did:

Once again, I was amused by the “Open up, police!” quality of Jessica’s knock. One guy said, “You have a heavy knock!” and she said “Thank you!” She thanked everyone and wished them all a happy Halloween without any prompting from her auntourage, which made us proud(er).

Many of the houses in the Village were creatively decorated, especially one with dry ice floating out in the evening air and a ghost that moved around:

I loved the skeleton dragon perched on the roof of this house:

Megan and I agreed that if we lived in the Village, we’d decorate our houses like crazy and have fun with it.

On our way back to the car, we stopped off to admire the amazing fire dancers and then picked up some things for dinner. We visited Dr. Karen’s haunted house on the way out, and Jessica added to her giant haul of candy. Back at Megan’s house, we had dinner and watched a movie while Jessica sorted throug her bag of treats. It was a happy Halloween.

Halloween San Francisco Style

I’m back home with the kitties and it’s a beautiful day. It’s warm enough to have the fans on – summer’s last hurrah. I can tell the cats missed me. They came in on their own yesterday evening and took turns sitting on my lap. As I write, they are all nearby.

Yesterday, I packed up the car, had breakfast at Polker’s, and checked out of my home away from home. I headed to Victor’s to pick up the traditional pizza, and discovered that I didn’t have my debit/credit card.

Uh oh.

I retraced my steps to Polker’s, and as I walked through the door, the waitress came up with my card. “I know why you’re here!” she said cheerfully.

I was much more cheerful as I went to Trader Joe, got gas for the car, and headed toward the iconic Bridge in the brilliant sunshine. Even though I really just worked on this brief trip, it was a good one. I listened to the baseball playoffs on my iPhone until cell service gave out, picked up some fresh cider at Gowan’s, and arrived home to be greeted by Clyde.

While I was enjoying my extreme takeout pizza, there was a knock at the door. It was Mark’s wife with a bag full of kale grown by a friend of hers. Welcome home!

Happy birthday to my amazing brother, he who runs into burning buildings to save strangers, fights wildfires, rescues people who fall off cliffs, and plunges into the frigid winter Pacific for charity. He who works on his sisters’ cars because he doesn’t trust anyone else to make sure they’re safe. He who lives entirely off the grid and can make a robot, dig a well, and is a Number One Groover on Life.

Since we’ll either be working (my sibs) or traveling (me), we decided to celebrate my brother’s birthday with a BBQ on Saturday. Erica and Jessica joined us for the occasion, Jessica modeling her ski boot cast and walking around with no crutches:

Megan and I are planning to sleep over at their place the night before the sheep dog trials at the county fair later this month. It’s good to know we have plans to get together soon. I think my new year’s resolution should be to see Erica at least once a month.

Jarrett also came to visit, with his lovely girlfriend Cally and Archi, who is almost a year old now, so he’s no longer the world’s cutest puppy. He’s 60 pounds and has long legs and gorgeous eyes. It was hard to get him to pose for me, so this is the best I could do:

He is such a beautiful, happy dog.

Erica also made a fabulous cake, chocolate with butterscotch filling. Here’s the birthday boy with the cake, moments before it was cut into and enjoyed:

Jessica asked for milk with her cake, and Cally told her that Cally’s father liked to have cake in a bowl with milk right in it. Jessica said, “Why is it always men who are disgusting?” which brought down the house. She also estimates my mental age to be somewhere around three – maybe 6 on a good day. Interestingly, she considers Jonathan to be sillier than me. I would have lost that bet.

We all had a great time together. I feel so lucky to have such wonderful family and friends.

A beautiful cake for a beautiful occasion

In the midst of all the sadness that has come our way this August – the Official Month of Death has really outdone itself this year – there was joy. I attended the wedding of two friends who have been together for a quarter of a century, but are finally free to marry.

I was honored that they asked me to help them plan the wedding, which was held at their lovely home in Hooterville. They wanted to keep it simple, and invited just close friends and families. One of the grooms has wedding longevity in his family: his parents have been married for 58 years and his sister and her husband for 21. The wedding was held on his sister’s birthday, so it was a joyous occasion all around.

The sun peeped out, and it was a perfect day. As I arrived at the grooms’ home, I met the sikh who was presiding over the ceremony. He is a warm, humorous and wise man and I was delighted to meet him.

The wedding theme colors were white and purple, as you can see on the wedding cake above and the rustic flowers on the lawn:

Zoe, their plushly soft 15 year old Australian Shepherd mix, was the honorary maid of honor:

The sikh gave us some opening words of wisdom before starting the ceremony, which was held on the deck:

The couple exchanged their vows:

And exchanged their rings, made just for them by the local artists at Old Gold:

Then smashed the traditional glass for luck:

And finally sealed their vows with a kiss:

It was a deeply moving ceremony, and I was honored to be there.

After the ceremony, there was a free-form garden party with lots of music and fantastic food made by one of the grooms, who spent a week making it all. The feast included Moroccan bistilla, a puff pastry extravaganza, both chicken and vegetarian; Moroccan olives with mint, lemon and cayenne; pate en volaille, Fijian Kokoda, a sort of seviche with bay scallops; and tiny, moist corn muffins. There was wine and beer and laughter and tears. It was a truly special occasion.

Little River Sunset

Everything is more fun with my sister. Even babysitting. Or “brat bashing,” as my father used to say. He also referred to school as “government sponsored daycare.” Come to think of it, he had a pretty cynical attitude for someone with several kids. Maybe that’s no coincidence…

Not only are we kidless, it’s been a while since I babysat. I never really think of spending time with Jessica as babysitting (especially since she’s a lot more mature than I am in many ways), more like hanging out with a really fun friend. So I can’t actually remember the last time I actually brat bashed.

So it was probably good that Megan was there as the token grown up (and emergency services personnel, if needed).

We headed to my friend’s house earlier than usual, due to the construction on the iconic Hooterville bridge and the thrilling repaving of the Ridge – at least part of it. I can’t tell you how excited I was to discover that they were paving the rough, potholed road from near the store almost to the firehouse. I could practically hear my tires sighing with relief, and I was positively happy to sit and wait in the one lane traffic.

We arrived in good time and met our charges for the evening, two boys aged about 6 and a girl about 4. They are really sweet kids and were no trouble at all. We shared a pizza while we watched the movie “Cars”. Despite the stellar cast (Paul Newman; Billy Crystal; George Carlin), it was pretty boring for the female contingent of the audience. When it was over, we asked the little girl what she wanted to watch, and she chose “Winnie the Pooh.”

The boys loudly decried her choice, but Megan and I thought that she deserved a turn after sitting through the boys’ choice. About five minutes into “Winnie the Pooh”, the boys grumbled, “I guess we should just watch this stupid movie,” and within another few minutes, they were laughing and totally absorbed in the humor and charm. Megan and I were both amused by this.

I took a few minutes to snap the sunset over the foggy ocean – the house has a lovely view of the Pacific from its setting among the redwoods and sipped the rest of the wine thoughtfully left by the parents. It was a really nice evening. Everything’s more fun with my sister.