Suzy Says

I woke up around 5:00 this morning. I tried to get back to sleep, but going back to sleep is not one of my fortes, so I decided to embrace the inevitable and just get up.

June and I came downstairs together, me in two sweaters and June in her always elegant (and not politically incorrect) fur coat, to find the heater already on, trying to keep the room at 52 degrees. As I write, June is sleeping on top of the heater and Audrey is still outside, getting into trouble somewhere. I turned the heater up and checked the temperature outside. It was 35 degrees and there is a frost warning until 9:00 this morning. Apparently, I put my orchid back outside a little soon.

It is April 15, isn’t it? The most important day of the year? I have a feeling I’m not the only one around here who was up early this morning.

Today, Miss Jessica turns seven, though you’d be forgiven for thinking she was about 30 if you went only by what I’ve written about her. It’s rare for a child to be precocious without being annoying, but she is a rare person. To celebrate this special occasion, she and her mother are going to San Francisco, where they will visit Lush and the Exploratorium and other cultural attractions before going out to dinner and spending the night at Jessica’s favorite hotel.

She’s a girl after my own heart.

Jessica takes afternoon tea

On Friday night, I put Megan’s laundry in the dryer and folded the clothes when they were ready, putting the basket in my living room. I figured it was the least I could do for my busy sister. She reclaimed her laundry early in the morning while I was still sleeping, removing a dead mole from the doorstep on her way.

I guess that makes us even.

Erica and Jessica came by and picked me up on Saturday afternoon. Jessica was dressed as Alice in Wonderland, which was only appropriate, since we were attending the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party at the historic Mendocino Hotel. I was surprised and pleased to find Megan waiting for us – I thought she was still teaching her class.

Meg and Erica headed off to the yarn store to buy knitting needles, while Jessica and I repaired to the Garden Room. There we selected tea cups from a selection of vintage cups, filled them with chamomile tea, and then filled a plate with heart-shaped cookies reading “Eat Me”, chocolate-covered strawberries, and cupcakes.

Jessica had her face painted (a little heart on her cheek) and we entered a raffle for a free ticket to the local production of “Alice In Wonderland” at the same theater where we saw the magic show. By the time the Storyteller started reading us the chapter with the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, I began to wonder where Megan and Erica were.

“It’s taking your Mama a long time to buy knitting needles,” I observed to Jessica.

“She’s probably distracted by gorgeous yarn, and now she’s debating whether to buy it or not,” she answered.

A few minutes later, Megan and Erica turned up. Erica was holding a bag containing not only knitting needles, but, yes, two skeins of gorgeous yarn. I told Erica about her daughter’s comment, and she said “Does my kid know me, or what?”

In the meantime, the Queen of Everything was drawing the winning ticket. Jessica won! She jumped up and down, saying “I’ve never won a raffle before!”

This drew the attention of a girl of about Jessica’s age.

“Remember me?”

“Are you Lily?”

“Yes!!”

The two girls hugged each other while simultaneously jumping up and down. They caught up for a few minutes, and then Jessica returned to us, saying happily, “It’s so nice to catch up with old friends.”

As you know, I’m getting pretty tired of being the cat doorman. Well, Audrey’s doorman, especially several times in the middle of the night. As a family, we tend to sleep poorly, so being woken up multiple times by the Audrometer in addition has led to chronic sleepiness for me. Last night, I decided to leave the balcony door slightly ajar, so Audrey could come or go as she liked. I expected to find the door blasted open in the middle of the night, but no. And it was great to get a real night’s sleep, such as it was. I imagine parents feel the same way when their baby finally sleeps through the night.

In other cat news, my brother has adopted a young black and white male named Jinx. He used to have two adorable tuxedo brothers named Thing One and Thing Two, but they disappeared (in order, actually). After One disappeared, he adopted Twilley, a handsome tabby who agrees with Audrey about the importance of hunting at all times. Twilley and Two spent a lot of time together until Two also vanished. Twilley has been very lonely, especially when Jonathan works overnight, so getting a companion seemed like a good idea.

Jinx was quiet all the way from the animal shelter to Jonathan’s place. Released from his box, he went crazy, racing back and forth in the (very) limited confines of the trailer, leaping up on the counters, spraying pots and pans everywhere. I just called to check on him and he is now hiding in the shower while my brother attempts to restore order to his domain. Twilley is bemused. Keeping them inside for the prescribed two weeks is going to be…interesting.

By the way: I forgot to mention that I finally remembered to bring Jessica her nicely wrapped Christmas present (either really late or really early – you decide) on Sunday. She was so impressed with the wrapping that she was reluctant to open it, probably a first for both of us. As soon as she took off the snowflake pin, she put it on her coat (and later, when it warmed up at the fair and she took her coat off, she put it on her t-shirt). I’m glad I was momentarily mature enough to give it to her instead of keeping it. The light-up snowman pen was a big hit, too. She used it to write down all our cell phone numbers and put them in her pocket in case we got separated at the fair. This was her idea. What else would you expect from a six year old who reads at an advanced sixth grade level?

*If I had been old enough to have my own place in the 1970s, I would have had an “etc” sign on the wall, just like Rhoda. I loved her apartment on the first couple of seasons of “Rhoda”. The terrace alone! I also loved MTM’s little studio apartment. I love mentally redecorating both of them when I watch those shows, too.

Orange trees at the fair. Note the blue sky!

Yesterday was a girls’ day out. At the 118th annual Citrus Fair!

Megan and I went to meet Lu in beautiful downtown Hooterville. While waiting for Lu, someone called out from her car, “Hey, Megan! I was never so glad to see you in my life as I was at that call!” It was the official paramedic from the call where Megan and Lu unofficially helped a week earlier.

We were getting a little cold waiting for Lu and reading the signs posted on the store’s bulletin board (do I really need a free, 14 year old ostrich who “like room to run”?), so we went in and chatted with the cashier. She regaled us with stories of shoplifters past, including a drunk guy who used to hide wine in his pants, deny it, and then get busted when the bottles fell out of the pants legs onto the floor.

Lu pulled up as we mused on how stupid you’d have to be to steal at the only store in town, and the only store for several miles, and we piled in.

In Boonville, we stopped off to pick up Jessica, who was anxiously awaiting our arrival. Erica was, too, because she had 200 pastries to make that day, and making 200 pastries is a lot easier when you don’t have to brat-bash, as my father would say. I traded her a “New Yorker” with an article on Neil Gaiman for her only child, and we both thought we got a pretty good deal.

Big news: Jessica is no longer subject to the indignity of the car seat! And she is tall enough to ride that ride.

Arriving at the fair, Jessica and I were thrilled by the sight of the Citrus Fair Queen in her red cape and sparkly tiara. We waved, and the Queen waved back very regally for a high school student. Jessica said that she thought she could be a Citrus Fair Queen one of these days, and I bet she could.

Even more exciting than the Queen sighting for Miss Jess were the rides, the more dizzying, the better.

All the grownups were either too scared (Me) or nauseous (everyone else) to accompany the kidlet on the rides. After all, I am the same girl who was horrified by the Ferris wheel at the Florida State Fair a few years ago. Though we did make sure that she was tall enough (she actually exceeded the height requirements) and that there were sufficient safety mechanisms in place. Then we just watched her be delighted. That girl is fearless.

She also caught a couple of toy fish, winning prizes, and wound up the ride experience with a relatively tame carousel ride (I tried not to think about that scene from “Strangers on a Train”, especially since they were playing the same song).

After that, it was time for a BBQ lunch with garlic fries while being serenaded by a mariachi band. Sitting at the picnic table in the sun, I said that I was actually afraid of getting a sunburn. Megan had a sunblock stick in her bag, and we all put some on. It was wonderful to bask in the sun and blue skies, which never did make it to Hooterville that day.

After lunch, we visited the pygmy goats, including twin babies:

We also petted the world’s softest rabbit. He felt like suede.

Megan and I went to a talk on beekeeping from a gentleman who has been a beekeeper for more than 60 years (his father was a life-long beekeeper, and so is his daughter, who gives classes we’re hoping to attend this spring). Among the many things we learned was that in the 1950s, the US exported 60% of its honey. Now it imports 60%. Also that most beekeepers are now 65 or older, so that just strengthened our commitment to truly learning this difficult art.

There was just enough time to watch Scotty and Trink juggle knives – and fire – on unicycles:

all while making the audience laugh.

It was a great day.

When we left Erica and Jessica, Jessica called after us: “Goodbye, enourage!”

Dazzled with glittery splendidness, I headed to 19th Avenue to start the trip home.

As I sped through the retro tunnel on Park Presidio, I tried (and failed) to remember the last time I had approached the Golden Gate Bridge this way. It was fun to take a different route, though it was sad to bid farewell to the beautiful city, gleaming in the pale, watery winter sunshine.

I have to say that it is so much easier and faster to go from Hooterville to San Francisco than it is to Oakland. Going to the East Bay adds anything from half an hour to an hour to the trip. And it’s much less scenic.

I stopped off in Boonville to give Erica and Jessica their long-delayed Christmas stockings and presents. Being Me, I managed forget my own gift for Jessica. Yes, the one I finally did a good wrapping job on. But she hardly noticed in the blizzard of gifts from Megan and Rob, Jonathan, and Lu. I noticed that she opened each one, spent some time looking at it and showing it to her friends who happened to be on hand, and then went on to the next one.

She also asked her mother if she could have a chocolate coin from her stocking, and then shared the remainder with her friends.

Their schedules are so hectic these days that it’s hard for them to visit. Meg and I are planning on going to get Jessica and keep her for a weekend soon.

Hugged and kissed, I went on my way. I noticed that it was not yet dark at 5:00, and that there were daffodils in the grass by the side of the road. The river had definitely receded.

When I got home, I was disappointed at the lack of greeting committee. Henry Etta didn’t bother getting up, and June and Audrey were nowhere to be seen (they didn’t reappear until 10:00 that night). I called Meg to tell her I was home, and of course her greeting and Rob’s made up for the cats’ lack thereof. Humans: picking up cat slack for thousands of years and counting!

We all enjoyed the extreme pizza delivery extremely. I think I’ll try and do that every time I go to the city.

My sister’s tree

Christmas Day dawned bright and sunny. I know, because Audrey woke me up so I could see for myself.

The first order of business was taking Schatzi for a walk. We went over to our brother’s place, checked on the bees, and let Schatzi run and roam to her heart’s content. It was warm enough that Megan and I took off our sweaters, enjoying the sun on our skin. When it was time to leave, Schatzi was nowhere to be seen. We called her and Megan whistled loud enough to summon a New York taxi, but no dog. Megan was ready to leave without her, but I freaked out, so we gave it one more try. She finally showed up then, covered with mud. Including her nose.

Merry Christmas!

After that, it was time to start on the feast, which somehow took up most of the rest of the day. Rob pruned an apple tree so he had wood to smoke the ham, which was basted for hours with maple-bourbon glaze invented years ago by our brother, a formerly professional cook. While Rob tended the barbecue, I made my famous cheese biscuits and gratuitous stuffing (at Megan’s request). I invented the stuffing and it turned out great: cornbread, multi-grain bread, pecans, apples, celery, onion, herbs from the garden, leftover wine, chicken stock, and butter.

I also made an unnecessarily complicated side dish of cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, and red onions with a seedy mustard vinaigrette. Add in my apple pie and Megan’s pumpkin pie, both adorned with stars in the pastry, and you have a festive dinner!

Unfortunately, Erica was too sick to attend, so that meant no Jessica, either. However, their presents and stockings are still under the tree, so we can have another celebration later.

Jonathan got off work early, so dinner was still hot when he arrived around 7. After dinner, we all opened our stockings. It’s so fun to see the person whose stocking you made opening it. I got Megan again this year, and a couple of weeks ago, she brought* a box from Sephora to my house, commenting that she wished it was for her. It actually was, containing a travel size skincare kit, and I was delighted to finally tell her that. We couldn’t stop laughing.

While we were opening our stockings, the cats were playing outside under the stars. Audrey showed up at the sliding glass doors with a live mouse in her mouth, clearly proud of her hunting prowess. Needless to say, I was horrified, and my sibs were amused at my horror. “Just wait until they figure out how to eat them!” they said gleefully, adding that cats don’t eat the legs or tail, so there’s always leftovers. Yay! I tried not to think about Audrey sitting on my lap later, licking my hand with her mouse tongue and kissing me with her mouse breath.

I didn’t let the cats back in until there was no sign of that mouse, or any other mouse, for that matter.

*We all share a post office box, so we’re always picking up each other’s mail. Also, all the Fed Ex and UPS packages for everyone on the property are dropped off at a little shelter near the road, and whoever sees the package first brings it to its recipient. It’s not unusual to come home and find a package on your table.

Improved tree

I’ve always been terrible at wrapping presents. You’d think I’d be good at it, given my expertise in applying make-up, love of all things sparkly, and generally trivial mindset, but no. The ends bunch up, the paper is unevenly cut and/or is too big or too small for the package, there’s tape all over the damn place, and the ribbons are knotted and bedraggled. I’m the anti-Martha Stewart.

This is another reason why our Christmas stocking tradition is so very kick-ass. Cheap; non-stressful; fun; and nothing to wrap.

Yesterday, I put together Megan’s Christmas stocking, which was made by Erica. Hence its awesomeness:

I’m pleased to report that it is jam packed with goodies. I actually had candy left over (for now).

The only present I had to wrap was for Jessica, and it’s the best wrapping job I have ever done:

I should get extra credit for valiantly giving her the fluffy snowman pen, especially because it lights up, and the snowflake pin, especially since it’s sparkly and would have looked excellent in my hair. Also festive. Don’t say I never did anything for you, kid.

I smugly put the elegantly-wrapped present and stuffed stocking under the tree. About five minutes later, it was brought to my attention that this was an idea worthy of International Stupidity Day. All the cats converged on the present and started playing with the snowman fluff. Sighing, I removed both items and hid them in the laundry room/pantry*. Oh, Nanny, where art thou?

Speaking of the tree, I ended up excavating a string of lights for it. This just encouraged me, so I added candy canes (in a classic flavor). The iridescent tree topper was half-price the last time I was in Rite Aid, so I had to get it. A little out of proportion to a Charlie Brown sized tree, perhaps, but so are showgirls’ headdresses.

*The washer is still leaking, but Rob put up my “Vertigo” poster, so at least it’s well-decorated. A girl must have some standards, you know.

I was awakened this morning by Miss Audrey, the dawn alarm clock. I think she’s figured out that I won’t let her out until there’s some light in the sky, so the minute blackness turns to grey, it’s time to wake up the doorgirl and start her day.

She does this by clawing at the door to the balcony. Cat claws on glass = nails on a blackboard. Eeeyagh! It would be better to have Dad yanking off the covers while yelling, “Wakey-wakey, rise and shine!”, his preferred method for awakening slumbering teenagers (parents take note – this is particularly effective in cold climates).

I let Audrey out without even putting my glasses on, and June went racing past as I fumbled for them in my sleepy, semi-blind state.

Like all my family, once I’m up, I’m up, no matter how unfortunate the hour or whether it’s the weekend or a work day, so I went downstairs to make coffee and start my day.

Henrietta wasn’t on the couch or by the heater. I looked around for her and found her sitting under the tree like a little present.

Yesterday, the guilt of the uncategorized became too much for me. The holiday layout makes it blatantly obvious that I haven’t bothered to categorize my immortal writings, so I’ve started to do so. However, I probably won’t go back and categorize eight years’ worth of drivel, but rather, try to categorize from now on. It can be my new year’s resolution, along with trying to be injury-free.

Anyway, I have categorized all the Jessica-related posts, for example, so you can easily read about your favorite girl. I still haven’t bothered with tags, because I really don’t understand them. So you’ll have to settle for categories for now.

Story time

Even though Thanksgiving is not generally considered a gift-giving occasion (to my mind, one of its more delightful aspects), Jonathan couldn’t resist bringing Jessica a book which gives the real dirt on the Three Little Pigs. It’s authored by the Wolf himself, and you can see that it held Jessica spellbound. She wasn’t the only one, either. Jonathan seems to have inherited our father’s gift for reading stories and doing all the voices. It was great.

When the story was over, Jessica went up to bed. She had permission to read as long as she liked on this special occasion, but spotted my jewelry box. Immediate exploration was called for, and here you see Jessica wearing the earrings I wore at my wedding (my dress was a 1940’s emerald green taffeta gown), along with a string of jade beads my Dad brought me from China and a string of rubies from India:

Sparkle time

In going through the collection with Jessica, I realized how many beautiful things he had given me over the years on his many travels.

While Jessica was being delighted and I was getting nostalgic, there was channel surfing going on downstairs, and we were alerted to the fact that the Rockettes were on. I dragged Jessica down the stairs as fast as I could, and sat with her on my lap as the Christmas Spectacular unfolded in front of us in all its glory.

During the first number, where the Rockettes were wearing their Candy Cane outfits, she observed, “They look like little Christmas presents.” After a while, she said, “They’re the most beautiful girls in the world!” I was about her age when I became enchanted by the Rockettes and the Weeki Wachee mermaids, and the enchantment has lasted all these years. It was so fun to share it.

The next day, Erica told me that Jessica dressed up in a leotard and danced around the house saying “I’m a Rockette! I’m a Rockette!”

Henry was nowhere to be seen when I went out to feed him this morning. I called him and called him, but he didn’t appear. I could have alerted the TV networks, but decided to go and pack some more and then look for him again. While I packed, I worried about not being able to find him on Wednesday. My plan was to lure him onto the screened-in porch with food in the morning, so he can stay there while we’re packing up the truck, but what if he isn’t there to be lured?

Henry was lying on his bed as if nothing had happened when I went to look for him again. He gave me a hushed meow of acknowledgement, but didn’t bother to get up. Cats need their beauty sleep, after all. I think I’ll try and get him onto the porch on Tuesday and just keep him there with his food and a litter box until my brother can wrestle him into his carrying case on Wednesday.

He’ll have to get used to the litter box in the short term anyway, since all three cats will have to stay inside for the first few days after we move so they know it’s their house. After that, I’ll let them all out and hope for the best. I’m planning to bring them in at night, but they may have ideas of their own.

At night I lie in bed and fret about things like whether the cats will fight all the time and hate each other, or how on earth I’ll get rid of all the boxes after I unpack, or whether I should buy a bunch of bottled water for my moving crew instead of having glasses to wash up and pack after we’re all done. These minor details which are probably making you laugh are making me sleepless.

I haven’t heard back from the people I risked life and limb to interview with, and since they said they’d decide by the end of the week, I’m thinking that no answer is a no. Looking for a job in the midst of moving really does add to a girl’s stress.

When the day’s packing is through and I’ve washed my ink-stained hands, I settle back with a glass or two of wine and an episode of Columbo. They are intriguing enough to keep my mind – or at least the surface of it – off my worries, but are delightfully lacking in the graphic grossness of the CSI franchise or the sadness of the Law & Orders, which make me despair of humanity much of the time. Also, they were shot in sunny LA in the early 1970s, and I have never much enjoyed the present. And then there’s the considerable charm of Peter Falk. I smile every time he introduces himself as “from the police”.

I’ve had to cancel all my Oakland library holds and return all the books I had checked out. So I’ve been digging in The Boxes for escapism. I can only read children’s books (Edward Eager*, E.L. Konigsburg, and Zilpha Keatley Snyder) and light fiction (Barbara Pym, Peter Mayle, and Miss Read). I can’t wait to get a library card when I move, and I have a list of books to request when I do. That’s a happy thought for sleepless nights. Or any time of day.

*Megan just bought Jessica her first Edward Eager! Also some of the delightful Great Brain series. She’s reading at a fourth grade level at the age of six.

Stormy weather

Wow! That was intense!

I must have aged ten years on the drive home today. Jessica will be even less complimentary the next time she compares the original to my decade-old driver’s license picture.

I was the most worried about Highway 128, whose curves make Marilyn look like Audrey Hepburn. It turns out that was the fun part. Both 101 and 580 were full of trucks whooshing by, or hanging out in front of me, so I was blinded by the mist in the their wake (is there a term for this?) half the time. Add in torrential rains, gale-force winds, a few flooded lanes, and people driving without their lights on, and you have a hell-a-palooza on your hands.

My Mouse must have been working overtime and wishing I brought its twin.

According to the radio, 280 was partly closed due to flooding, and 101 south of San Francisco was also flooded, backing up traffic for miles. About ten minutes after I passed Philo, I heard that a car had driven into a tree which had fallen across the road there.

I have never been so happy to see Oakland in my life.

As for the interview, also known as the stress-free part of the trip, I think it went well. One of the interviewers worked with Megan at the hospital for several years, so that was a point in my favor. She also remembered my mother’s long, painful illness and was really sweet about it. That’s a small town for you!

They are supposed to decide by the end of the week. If they make me an offer, I don’t know how I can fit it in with my current job, especially since they want someone 5 hours a day, 5 days a week. I’m not too happy at the the thought of driving all that way every day, but they do offer medical benefits and it seems like a great place to work. And if they don’t make me an offer, I’ll be all huffy because they don’t want me.

Being the Halloween Fairy takes practice.

Also blah.

So I have a job interview on Monday. It’s the first one I’ve had in nearly twenty years*. I suppose I should be glad that I haven’t had more interviewing experience, but on the other hand, I haven’t had more interviewing experience.

The interview is also 180 miles away.

I figured I’d go first thing on Sunday, so I could hang out with the sibs and play with the puppy, but no. The landlord** is showing the house again between 1:00 and 2:00 on Sunday, and she’s such a flake that I know she’ll let the kitties out and not be able to catch them. So I’ll have to stay here uncomfortably while strangers inspect my chaotic house and bad housekeeping and closet contents, and then spend four hours driving north. Hopefully I’ll get there before dark.

The interview is scheduled for 2:00 on Monday. I was thinking of driving back afterwards, but I realized that if I leave Fort Bragg around 3:00, I’d hit Santa Rosa at rush hour, and be immersed in rush hour the rest of the way home. So I think I’ll stay overnight, and have coffee with my sister when she comes home from work at 7:00 in the morning, and then head home. All this before moving next week.

To make it even more fun, there’s a storm advisory for Monday afternoon through Wednesday, so I’ll get to drive home in pouring rains and high winds.

Good times.

On the bright side, I’ll have an excellent Halloween weekend. Lu is giving a party on Friday, then I’l be part of Jessica’s Halloween entourage on Saturday (she might be a Halloween fairy), and Sunday we’ll be celebrating the Day of the Dead with Mark and Citlali and their family.

*In case you’re wondering how I performed this amazing feat, it’s because the two jobs I had before this one were temp to hire, and then my boss just called me and asked if I’d like to work with him again (we had worked together for years at my previous job). So no interview required. There’s a lot to be said for temp to hire, since you find out what the job actually is and who your coworkers really are before you commit.
**I told her about the water bill, and she just said “Oh.” That was it.

I’m kind of surprised by how upset I am over losing the original of this post. I had a hard time putting it back together. And it’s not as good as the original.

Also, since I had internet problems when I was up there last week, I got out of the habit of writing nearly every day. I find the more I write, the more I write. If I take a few days off, I have a hard time getting back in stride. Go figure.

Here’s the reconstituted post. Sigh.

Rose’s funeral fiesta was amazing. It was held at her former house, which will soon be my house. Dozens and dozens of people were there; kids ran around the garden and played on the trampoline. It turns out that I also have a swing, seen here being modeled by Jessica:

There was a buffet, and a bar with red and white wine, water, lemonade, and of course margaritas. Overhead, there were beautiful hand-cut banners with images traditional for Mexican Dia de los Muertos* (Day of the Dead) celebrations. Here you can see skeletons bearing a coffin, with lit candles on either side:

There were little shrines all over the garden, with flowers, candles, little sculptures, shells, and some of Rose’s work (she was a gifted potter and artist). I love the saw repurposed as art in the last photo:

There was an altar for Rose, covered with photos from every stage of her life. My favorite was one of her sitting happily in a hammock, beaming with joy.

All over the garden, there were notes and letters to Rose and her family pinned to the trees. We also wrote messages in a little book. I have to admit that I was as proud as a mother when I saw Jessica write “I miss you Rosemarie. Love, Jessica” in the book. She signed her name in cursive writing, a new accomplishment.

A mariachi band had come all the way from Santa Rosa, and serenaded us as we ate, drank, and talked. Erica set up a tip jar for the band before setting to work carving a watermelon to look like a flower.

Mark, who was Rose’s son-in-law, announced the last song the mariachis would play. It is a traditional farewell song, and sounded to my untutored ears like “Los Galindos”. Mark says the title means something like “Little Birds”. It was a lovely and moving song. As the artists took their leave (and their tip jar), we moved our chairs to the part of the garden where Rose’s altar was.

A microphone was set up, and people got up and spoke about Rose, including her granddaughters and, remarkably, their friends, all of whom were less than 10 years old; the woman who had introduced James and Rose many years ago in Baja; and James’s cousin. There were laughter and tears, and many shared memories. Rose’s daughter Citlali recited a poem, and played a tape of Rose’s brother Axel, who couldn’t be there, singing Charlie Chaplin’s Smile.

As the sun began to set, Mark set a large chunk of clay beside Rose’s altar and invited everyone to take a piece and make a bead, which would be fired in Rose’s kiln. I patterned mine with little dots in spirals, and Erica made hers look like a little face. Here are some of the beads on Rose’s altar:

The celebration went on long into the night, with impromptu music provided by the guests, playing guitar, harmonica, and conga drums. Candles were lit and flickered in the moonlight. As Mark hugged me good-bye, he gestured around the garden and said, “She is everywhere here.”

*It’s on November 1. My new landlords have offered to celebrate with us, so we can do something special for our parents. It’s the day after Halloween, when I will be the newest member of Jessica’s trick-or-treating entourage. Last year’s numbered six.

Hi! I missed you, too!

I’m not sure if it’s because the girls missed me so much, or because their naughtiness streak has expanded to take over most of their furry little bodies, but they really outdid themselves during my most recent absence. When I came into the house and dropped my bags on the couch, I immediately noticed a little cat figurine on the floor. It’s one of the few ornaments not Museum Waxed to the mantel, and it’s the only cat one, so maybe it was practice prey for the Terrible Twosome.

In the kitchen, I was shocked by a) the mess; and 2) the fact that the kittens had eaten all the food I left, which I had foolishly thought was enough for three or four days (I left on Thursday morning and came back on Saturday afternoon). The litter box was a mute, yet pungent witness to the immoderate feasting.

When the food was exhausted, they apparently went foraging in the cupboards. Their food is safely ensconced in plastic containers for this very reason, but they had managed to knock open boxes of pasta, crackers, etc., onto the floor.

Welcome home.

Henry, too, had eaten all his food, and his water was mysteriously full of dirt. As I cleaned up his dishes and set out fresh food and water, he happily got in the way and pushed his head into my hand. He doesn’t seem to get grumpy when I go away now.

The trip started off as inauspiciously as it ended. I missed the exit for the Richmond-San Rafael bridge. I got off the freeway at the next exit and turned around to go back, only to find that traffic was horrendously slow in that direction. All in all, it took me a good half hour to make up for that mistake. Sigh.

I stopped off to see Erica and Jessica, and my traffic-induced crankiness vanished as Jessica ran toward me yelling my name and jumped into my arms. I swear she’s even taller than she was when I saw her last month. She was happy to see that I was wearing “her” necklace, and as I put it on her, I told her that I’d worn it just for her, which delighted her.

I asked about her trip to San Francisco, whether she liked the hotel and the dinner with her mother and her Mom’s friends. She said “The hotel was the nicest one I’ve stayed at in a long time” and confided that “The lamb was a little disappointing. And by the way, it was too salty.”

The six year old epicure.

Later, I was eating some delicious raspberry sorbet and asked Jessica if she’d like some. She said she would, but she’d have to ask her mother. She waited until her mother finished serving a customer, then asked. When she got permission, she bounced over and had a bite. I have to admit that I would have just taken the bite without asking when I was six.

Up next: puppies!!

Home sweet home?

You will be amazed to hear that I’m thinking of moving. Again. But you might really be amazed to hear where.

It’s no secret that I hate living in Oakland, or that I’m deeply tired of spending nearly every penny I make to do so. I can’t afford to live in San Francisco, or anywhere desirable in the East Bay. I’m sick of the BART station of death and the weirdness of strangers.

So here’s my possible Plan B: move into my sister’s house (back view from the garden is pictured above). Our brother has already moved out to the property (more or less), so his house is vacant-ish, and my sis and her husband can move there, and I can move into their house. Musical houses!

Yes, it’s even teenier than my current house. It’s in the country. The separation between outside and inside is extremely blurred (and dusty or muddy, depending on the season). It’s a four hour drive from my job. I’m worried about the cats going outside and disappearing forever, which has happened to both my brother and sister.

But…

I’ll be close to my family and friends. I can spend more time with Jessica. Rent will be a third of what I’m paying now, and there will be no more insane water bills. There aren’t any locks on the door, even if I wanted to lock them. Sure, I’ll have to drive everywhere, but I do here, too. And who wouldn’t prefer driving by the ocean to the freeway?

I can consign The Boxes to my brother’s storage container. I can pile up meetings on a couple of days a month, stay in the familiar hotel near my old place in San Francisco. With 24 hours’ notice, I can be there if my boss/partner needs me.

I can even take the good bridge to get there.

Can I do it? Will it be like Green Acres? Will my boss say OK?

Stay tuned.

Thoughts, opinions, notions and moving cartons are welcome. if you’re too discreet to comment, email me at speakall at earthlink dot net. I’ll be glad you did.

As often happens in the summer, the Golden Gate Bridge was so fogged in that you couldn’t see most of the towers, let alone the ocean, the city, or the Bay. I was disappointed on Jessica’s behalf, since she was so looking forward to the view. I hope she got to see it on her way home.

By the time we passed the Presidio, we were out of the fog. No matter how long I live in or around San Francisco, the microclimates will never cease to amaze me.

Erica decided to drive down Union Street, a well-known and expensive shopping district near my former residence. I hadn’t been there in a while, being unable to support the economy in the style to which I used to be accustomed, and it was fun to see which stores were still there and which were different.

Erica noticed that there was actually a parking space in front of one of our favorite stores, Lush. Not only that, but there were 28 precious minutes left on the meter! It was too good to resist.

We drifted into the store on wafts of delicious fragrance, and were greeted by a charming French guy who spent the next half hour flirting with Erica as we sniffed and envied our way around. One of the great things about Lush is that you can try some of the products, so Jessica and I had fun trying things and splashing around in the basins provided. Somehow, we both ended up with glitter on our noses.

Erica told me to pick out something and she’d buy it for me. I was astonished – surely driving me home and letting me play with Jessica was enough for anyone! But she put her arm around me and said, “I know how much you miss shopping.” I was incredibly touched. In the end, she gave me all these things:

• Sugar scrub (which I used to scrub off the country dirt when I got home, though my long-suffering sandals may never be the same);
• A tiny pot of Potion solid perfume (spicy, delicious carnation scent);
• Sexy Peel soap (selected by Jessica); and
• Eau Roma water (get it?), which was perfect for a sunburned face.

When I thanked Erica, she said simply, “You needed some luxury,” and gave me a hug.

It was time to say good-bye. Along with my hay bale/Beverly Hills haircut, I brought a box of produce with me: tomatoes, almonds, peaches etc. from the Mendocino farmers’ market, tiny potatoes from my sister’s garden (she stores them in a pail of sand so they won’t go green or sprout; some of them were the size of a debutante’s pearls), and Betty eggs. Betty works at the hospital with my sis and brings in her extra eggs from her happy hens. You would not believe the difference between Betty eggs and Safeway eggs.

I went home by modern stage coach: my sis drove me to Boonville, where we planned to meet up with Erica and Jessica at Erica’s shop, Erica having kindly offered to chauffeur me the rest of the way. Megan and I were a bit early, a frequent family flaw, so we poked around the small farmers’ market for a few minutes.

There were books which were supposed to swapped, but having nothing to trade, we were allowed to take our selections for free. I scored a 1965 edition of James Beard’s Menus for Entertaining (which is, very) and Meg found a sci fi book for her husband, which it turned out he hadn’t read. I also got a Sunflower Soother lotion bar from MeadowSweet Soap, based in Ukiah. I am pleased to report that daily applications of it, besides smelling and feeling great, completely prevented my sunburn(s) from peeling.

We went across the street to the store, where Erica was loading up the car. She and Jessica were lucky golden ticket holders for Neil Gaiman’s signing in San Francisco the following day. Only 100 tickets were available, so they were very lucky to get them. And Mr. Gaiman was very lucky to meet his youngest fan in person.

It was a delightful drive. We ate brownies, giggled, and talked. The topic of Halloween costumes came up. Jessica is beginning to learn how to sew, and she wants to be the Oogie Boogie Man from The Nightmare Before Christmas this year. She observed that it would be easy to sew, and Erica agreed, saying it would be a fairly simple shape. She also suggested that Jessica might want to sew some decorations on her Christmas stocking, such as gingerbread men. Jessica said she’d like to put on candy canes, and I asked what was her favorite flavor (last year, we had cinnamon ones). She considered, and then said “I like the classic candy cane flavors, like peppermint.”

As we approached San Francisco, we saw a blimp flying lazily over head. I pointed it out to Jessica, and she said, “That’s an airship!” Later, I mentioned this to my sister, wondering how a six year old would know about airships. Megan said that lately Jessica’s been reading the dictionary in bed at night. One night, it was long after lights out and she didn’t want to stop reading. One of the things that makes Jessica such a charming child is her remarkable obedience about going to bed and staying there, so this was unusual. She explained to her mother, “I’m between diamonds and dinosurs and I just can’t stop!”

I finally managed to retrieve the photos from my ancient camera using a new cable. You can now enjoy a couple of pictures of Jessica from a couple of months ago.

One with a rose as big as her head:

And one with a friend and her little black kitten:

And of course, one of the kitten herself:

Alas, my time with Jessica was short-lived. She had a t-ball game in Cloverdale on Saturday, so she had to be returned to her mother on Friday. Megan and I had a few errands to run, so we decided to take the kidlet along with us and return her last, the errands being in one direction and Erica’s store in the other.

Jessica and I waited in the car while Megan got money from the bank. A guy tried to sell us mangoes while we were waiting, but Megan’s allergic to them, so I had to pass. When she came back, she mentioned that she’d shown the teller her driver’s license for ID purposes, and noticed how good the picture was. She showed it to me, and I agreed, saying mine was pretty good, too. So we swapped and looked at them.

Jessica, marooned in the backseat in her baby booster seat, asked to look at them too. She examined both of them and then said, “Suzy, you looked a lot younger then,” handing it back to me. I looked at the picture (7 years old? More?) and wondered if that’s just the viewpoint of someone 40 years younger, or just the truth.

While my ego struggled to recover, we stopped in at Safeway. Megan and I got sandwiches, and asked Jessica what she wanted.

She wanted sushi. Eel sushi.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Yes, yes!” she said, bouncing up and down. She also wanted a small envelope of cinnamon teddy grahams, because what tops off a meal of eel better?

I kind of wondered if she’d really eat it. She did, but it soon became apparent that sushi is not car friendly. We had to keep peeling a sticky rice morsel from the tray and passing it back to Jessica. The car immediately stank of sushi and everyone had sticky hands. It was pretty gross.

I’d like to share with you the pictures I took of Jessica, but my camera is being recalcitrant. It’s nearly 10 years old, and that’s about as old as I look by digital camera standards. I’m hoping it just needs a new battery.

I think I do, too.

I’m back! I missed you, too. I’m sure you kept busy shopping for my birthday presents while I was away.

It was the grand tour of micro-climates on my way up north: fog completely hid the dreaming spires of San Francisco, but became patchy around Frank Lloyd Wright’s* Marin Civic Center. By the time I got to Petaluma, it was blazing blue sky, and in Boonville, it was downright hot.

Megan hadn’t told Jessica’s mom Erica that I was coming up. What with all the stopping, I arrived at her shop 10 minutes before closing time. Erica later told me that she saw a late-breaking customer looming and thought, “Ugh, not now – I want to close and go home.” I had no idea about that as I cheerfully came through the door.

Both Jessica and Erica just lit up like Christmas trees when they saw me. Jessica jumped into my arms and I realized how much she’d grown. When we finished hugging, she showed me her new teeth and what she was reading (Lemony Snicket!). Then I finally got to hug Erica and admire all the new things in the shop. Also eat ice cream for the first time in years as we caught up.

Jessica, as usual, was way ahead of me and knew I was on my way to Megan’s. She wasted no time in suggesting that she accompany me. Erica called Megan to ask if that would be OK, and of course it was. Erica was delighted: would she use her unexpected free time to play trivia at the Lodge, or go home and relax in her PJs?

I asked Jessica if she still needed a car seat. “Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed dramatically, clearly thinking such things were far too babyish for her. Apparently, you can be too thin: she’s well above the height for not having a booster seat, but is so light that the law still requires it.

Once we got going, I asked Jessica if she’d like me to roll down the windows. It was 85 degrees in the Valley, and I had forgotten the needle nose pliers I use to put on heat and A/C (lost the knob and can’t turn the thing).

“Yes!” she responded. “I love to feel the wind in my hair.”

That evening, Megan showed us pictures on her phone of Jessica at the Mendocino Fun Fair (it’s her favorite day of the year) a couple of years ago. Her face was painted with beautiful pink flowers. Of course, she had to take the phone and look at the pictures. “Oh, I was so adorable that day!” she exclaimed, after looking at them carefully.

Next: Why sushi is not a good choice for lunch in the car.

*The splendid Guggenheim is 50 this year!