Suzy Says

It was bright and sunny when I woke up this morning, filling my pretty little head with thoughts of taking the dogs to the beach, especially after noting that it was already 50 degrees. But after a couple of cups of coffee and a peek at PostSecret, the clouds seem to be taking over.

Good thing I put up the Christmas lights inside and the wreath on the door to cheer things up:

I like the “Batman” angle.

There’s no way I can have a tree with the Bad News Boys around, so this will have to do.

It should be a pretty merry Christmas. Erica and Jessica will be with us (and I think they’ll be pleased with their stockings), and our good friend Paul is joining us, all the way from Florida. You may remember that Paul actually lived in my house about ten years ago, and was also my host in the Hamptons and in Florida, so it’s about time we hosted him for a change. He always has a million stories, and he always makes me laugh. I can’t wait to see him.

“You know, deck them halls and all that stuff.” — Lucy Van Pelt

Today the traditional three hour tour took four. And I still didn’t get everything done.

At the feed store, my order of kitten food and cat food were tantalizingly on the truck, which had not yet been unloaded. They weren’t sure when the unloading would take place, so I gave up on that and went across the street to buy a hose and an emergency light. I’ve lost one, and want to replace it before it’s needed. They looked at me like I was nuts and kept trying to sell me a flashlight. I have two flashlights, and I know where they are. I want a lantern-type battery powered lamp to read by when the power goes out.

And yes, I do know the difference between a flashlight and a lamp.

On to the hardware store, where I found a passable lamp, and bought Megan and Rob a coffeemaker on sale. Not for Christmas, for now. Rob came over this morning with the sad newses that the coffeemaker had irrevocably broken (and when Rob says that, you know it’s true) and that one of his ceramic projects had also been irrevocably broken. I had just admired it yesterday. He was putting it up on a shelf to keep it out of harm’s way when it fell to the floor and shattered. Sigh.

So I figured he wouldn’t want to wake up to no coffee tomorrow, and that Megan wouldn’t want to wake up to no coffee this afternoon. I got home around 1:00, so I was home well before she’d need caffeination. Though it also meant that the pharmacy was closed for lunch (it closes between 12:30 and 1:15, and the post office closes from 12:00 to 12:30), so I’ll have to try again another day.

I did, however, manage to buy some outside lights for the balcony, and put them up as soon as I got home. I love how the rain looks like snow in the picture – so festive!

If I can get over myself – and I think we can all agree that this is the hardest kind of recovery there is – I’ll risk climbing up the ladder to the weird storage space above the bathroom to get the wreath for the front door and the lights for the banister. I’m not even daring to think about a Christmas tree this year, though we could take bets on how long it takes to knock it over and which kitten does it first.

Late afternoon shadows on my house

Those of you who were perturbed by my Grinchy attitude toward Thanksgiving this year (and there were more of you than I would have thought) will be glad to see that I have already started my holiday decorations, at least around here.

I also started the Christmas card process today. I put on the Beach Boys’ Christmas sessions – what, I ask you, could be more festive than the Beach Boys on a chilly winter day – got out my green pen and the cards I bought on sale after Christmas last year, and my decaying address book. OK, decayed. I admit it. Dad bought it for me at the National Gallery many years ago, and it is now held together with a rubber band and hope. I can’t bring myself to buy a new one, though, mostly because of the names I’d have to leave out of it.

I started by addressing the non-American cards, since it takes at least a week for cards to reach our Northern neighbors, and presumably even longer for Europe. I then began to match the cards with the envelopes, only to discover that the cards required some assembly, as if they came from Ikea instead of Minnesota.

The assembly included tying on teeny pieces of red satin ribbon, which, when tied by Me, look nothing like the demonstration card which was on the top of the packs of cards and led me to believe that all the cards looked the same.

The assembly was hindered by the kittens, who had to jump up on the table to see what I was doing, and then “help” me by batting the ribbon onto the floor and playing with it into oblivion, when they weren’t assisting me with the tying itself. I ejected them into the woods, thinking of how our parents used to send us outside with instructions not to come back until lunch time, or bother them unless emergency services were required.

I now understand the wisdom of their ways.

After assembly was completed, I realized that I had to pull them apart in order to write my holiday greetings on them, and then put them back together again before putting them in the envelopes. The hard-won ribbons tended to peek out at odd angles, so I mostly ended up kind of slamming the envelope shut and hoping for the best. Note to Self: just plain letterpress next year, please.

And now back to our regularly scheduled program. Hope you didn’t mind the brief detours into the sporty and political.

As I mentioned in the Halloween post, the Town Hall had a beautiful exhibit of Day of the Dead (Dia de los Muertos) altars. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this ritual, it goes back thousands of years to indigenous people in Mexico. Altars are made for dead family and friends, including marigolds, decorated sugar skulls, and mementoes, and families go to cemeteries to visit their dead, celebrating them with food and drink. I love the idea of welcoming our lost loved ones into our lives.

The celebration occurs around Halloween, but isn’t related. In most parts of Mexico, November 1 is dedicated to children (Day of the Innocents or Day of the Little Angels) and November 2 to adults (Day of the Dead).

The Town Hall exhibit included both kinds. They were beautiful.

For a life-long traveling salesman.

This one could be for me.

Monica coordinated this lovely remembrance of pets. I might contribute next year. I was too sad this year. I think it was too soon.

For a little angel.

I love the chintz suitcase.

Frida Kahlo inspired.

Crowds on Market Street. AP photo

The sun shone down on the Giants’ victory parade yesterday, as it wended its way past the iconic Transamerica Pyramid in the Financial District to City Hall, where baseball great (and native San Franciscan) Joe DiMaggio married Marilyn Monroe 56 years ago. The parade route was the same one the Giants took when they were welcomed to their new home in 1958.

Hall of Famers and former Giants players Willie Mays and Willie McCovey rode in classic convertibles at the head of the parade, symbolizing the team’s storied past. Mr. Mays, who is considered my many to be the best all-around baseball player ever, had also been in that same welcoming parade back in 1958, so I imagine his was a particular joy.

Following these legends were the current team, a scrappy assortment of misfits who somehow managed to pull off a feat that had eluded this town for more than half a century. The crowd exploded as they caught sight of playoffs heroes like 25 year old Tim Lincecum, nicknamed “The Freak” for his flowing locks and unusual pitching style, and rookies Buster Posey (23) and Madison Bumgarner (who turned 21 in August and said that he was so calm during the World Series because of pitching for the high school championships in his hometown of Hickory, NC*). Edgar Renteria, who was teetering on the brink of retirement at the ripe old age of 36, drove in a three run home run in the final, winning game and was greeted accordingly. Brian Wilson, whose infamous playoff facial hair and stellar performance as a closer led to the slogan “Fear the Beard”, jumped off his motorized cable car to get closer to the crowd, which roared its approval.

Estimates placed the crowd along the mile and a half parade route at a million, and the crowd in Civic Center Plaza at hundreds of thousands, truly remarkable in a city whose entire population is around 800,000. But that’s the spirit of San Francisco, one of the most beautiful places in the world, and truly one of the most special. To know it is to love it. And to be embraced by it, as the Giants were yesterday, is something you’ll never, ever forget.

*Fellow players have told the press that Madison asked them to stop playing hip hop in the locker room and play some country music instead. He found the language upsetting.

Before we get back to our regularly scheduled post, I just have to say (well, shout):

I followed the game’s finale with the final two episodes of this season’s “Mad Men”, and without giving away the plot, I’ll just say that I found the ending unconvincing and weird. Also that it was the bleakest season yet. Can’t wait for next season, though. Same goes for the Giants.

And now back to Halloween…

Roscoe gets in the Halloween spirit

On Halloween morning, I introduced Jessica and the kittens to “The Munsters”. Jessica was immediately captivated, especially by Lily*, seeing through the make-up and finding her beautiful. She also liked Lily’s signature bat necklace, saying “And it’s bling, which we love.”

Megan came by to pick us up, and we started our grand Halloween tour in town, where there was a party at a pet food emporium. We met up with Lu and Harlow:

You can see that Harlow is much bigger than last year.

In addition to bobbing for hot dogs for the dogs, gift bags for all, raffles, and games, there was face painting. Jessica got in the Halloween spirit with a spider:

Then we stopped in at the Town Hall to see the Day of the Dead exhibits. It was so wonderful that it deserves its own post.

Finally, we all repaired to Lu’s house so Jessica could get ready. I was charged with putting make-up on around the spider. The white make-up supposedly glowed in the dark, but it didn’t seem to when the time came. It was kind of a challenge blending the white with the green and the spider. Also, Jessica’s skin is so fair it’s almost translucent, and utterly smooth and flawless.

She wouldn’t let me give her witchy eyebrows, so I just darkened hers:

It’s hard to tell from the picture, but there are glow sticks around her wrist and ankle. Needless to say, her mother made the dress:

I have to admit I was a little surprised that Jessica didn’t want to be something more unusual. But she looked adorable.

In the village, Dr. Karen’s office was open and decorated to the nines (or thirteens). She was dressed as a mad scientist and dispensed treats for dogs, cats, and kids as well as grown-ups, in the form of free wine. We went on to the street fair, where the Flynn Creek Circus performed:

You can see that the weather had finally cleared up after trick or treating us with ten inches of early rain. As the evening went on, the stars were out in full force, as if they had missed us.

Despite the starlight, trick or treating in the dark was tricky for Self, though Megan and Jessica had no problem bouncing along the village streets. I lagged behind, convinced that I’d trip over something or fall into a hole, but I managed to survive this particular Halloween unscathed, unlike last year.

We ended up at the historic Crown Hall, where there was a costume judging contest for the kids. I can’t begin to describe the racket in that place. Not for the first time, I marveled at parents and their patience, and wondered how my own put up with so many kids and so many Halloweens, so long ago.

*Played by the lovely Yvonne De Carlo. She was the secret Canadian in the show. You’ll find one in every TV show. You’ll see.

I know it’s not very Halloween-y, but my new purple honeysuckle just started blooming on Saturday!

In a more Halloween spirit, Megan and I spent the weekend with none other than Miss Jessica. We picked her up in Navarro, so Erica wouldn’t have to drive all the way to Hooterville and back, something she already does five times a week, every week. The life of a single mother is always intense.

Megan and I arrived first, so we had plenty of time to play “There’s your boyfriend” in the general store’s parking lot. I’d say approximately 90% of the 69 people who populate Navarro could easily have been extras in “Deliverance”. Before we could decide between the toothless guy and the one with the ZZ Top beard, Erica and Jessica arrived, injecting a much-needed note of loveliness to the proceedings.

Jessica hopped into Megan’s car without a backward glance. Unlike many kids her age, she’s perfectly comfortable staying overnight with us, which is nice.

Jessica came equipped with a bag large enough for a visiting Anna Wintour, along with a pumpkin and a book of designs. Needless to say, she had her heart set on the most difficult design of all. Megan and I cleaned out the guck and grossness while Jessica supervised. Once again I wonder how Dad put up with it when we were kids. Though maybe scientists aren’t all that easily grossed out.

Megan set aside some seeds for Jessica to grow next year, and roasted the remainder. We ate the roasted ones while watching “The Witches”, based on Roald Dahl’s novel and starring a wonderfully wicked Queen Witch, Anjelica Huston.

Rob came home and carved the pumpkin in true Rob style. I think he enjoyed it:

After dinner, I read “The Princess and the Goblin” aloud. I remember reading it when I was little. Though I was a little surprised that Jessica knew what “inundation” meant. I probably shouldn’t have been.

Clyde in a box! Shipping not included.

You’d think this seemingly endless parade of cold, rainy days would inspire me to clean up the house, but you’d be wrong. I’m much more inspired to clean on sunny days, when I can have the doors open to dry things off and cheer me up. Whereas gloomy weather plunges me into ennui and lassitude. If I didn’t have so much work to do, I’d spend the whole day lying around awash in regret and gloom, impatiently waiting for cocktail time.

As it is, I have work to do which may spill over into the weekend, and I really should tidy up the house, because Miss Jessica is arriving for a sleepover tomorrow. Then I get to go trick-or-treating with her on Sunday. I figure a girl who mentally decorated my balcony will probably notice if the house is untidy, though she will probably be too polite to say so.

On the bright side of the gloom, all this rain means that I don’t have to water the plants with my leaking hose. I think I’m going to have to invest in a new hose this spring, and they are surprisingly expensive, like tires, and almost as fun. I hate spending money on non-frivolous items.

And in other good news, the Giants have won the first two games of the World Series and are now only two away from the big prize. They didn’t get rained out last night, and the game was incredibly entertaining, with the Giants scoring an astonishing seven runs in the eighth inning. The kittens and I could hardly believe our eyes. The Giants won 9-0, and are on their way to Texas for tomorrow night’s game. Stay tuned!

As I write, the Amerigas truck is outside, filling the tank with gas and the house with a hideous smell. It’s supposed to smell like garlic, but it doesn’t smell like any garlic I’ve ever experienced, raw or cooked. Thankfully.

Audrey ate less than half of the tiny can of repulsive wet food I bought for her birthday. So much for celebrating. She did, however, manage to knock chunks of it on the floor while eating it, so I could have the fun of picking it up as well as putting it on the plate. The gift that keeps on giving…

Megan didn’t have a very romantic anniversary, either. We did the three hour tour during the power outage, and after we got home and decanted our respective groceries, I brought some wine over and we drank it in the garden. So there was some celebrating. They really liked the card, too.

Megan started her anniversary early with a trip to the store for coffee and the local paper, which featured my story about Star on page two. Page Two! I was very excited. You can’t see it on line, unfortunately, but I bought a couple of extra copies on our way to town. Let’s hope that Star finds a great home soon.

The mail was good to me, too: I got a postcard from Quince’s mother, who was visiting her native Scotland, and there was the Motel 6 voucher. Now I can stay for free at any Motel 6 in the country, though it’s most likely that I’ll stay at the one in a seedy part of San Francisco. At least I won’t have to drive a couple of miles to get coffee there.

And finally, my library haul was oh so Suzy, including “The Carrie Diaries”, the prequel to “Sex and the City”, and Elizabeth Taylor’s “My Love Affair with Jewelry.”

Audrey, Quince, and June, July 16, 2007

More celebrating is in order today.

My beautiful niece and my little cat share a birthday today! It couldn’t happen to more adorable beings.

I remember that my niece took her time arriving in this world, possibly because she knew what an unlovely place it is, but more likely because she was putting on the finishing touches before making her beauteous debut. She was just about the prettiest baby I have ever seen, and set an impossibly high standard for those that followed. I have spent the rest of my days being slightly horrified by the appearance of other babies.

Happy birthday, Petal!

As for June and Audrey (above), you can see that they were pretty much the nieces of the cat world. In that picture, they are about two weeks old. Notice that they are together, as they always were.

Audrey is celebrating her birthday by chasing two very loud and argumentative Steller’s Jays in the garden, and she’ll get her very own tiny tin of repulsive wet food tonight, the cat equivalent of birthday cake.

Happy birthday, precious girl!

Megan and Rob on their wedding day, July 1, 1991

I’m taking advantage of the remaining Hour of Power (well, half hour) before it goes out for the rest of the day. Now that Mark has nearly finished the Great Water Project, PG&E has decided to celebrate Megan and Rob’s anniversary by putting up a new pole on the Ridge, leaving us all powerless all day.

Suddenly, it seems like a good time to go to town and meander some errands!

Power or no power, I hope we can celebrate Megan and Rob’s anniversary. I’ll get a bottle of something, my entire liquor supply having been demolished in the Great Crash of ’10, and if Megan can actually chew actual food, maybe we can have something nice for dinner. Doesn’t that sound like the kind of party we should be having another 19 years down the road?!

I do have a quite fabulous card for them, anyway. Given Megan’s fascination with all things medical and Rob’s with horror movies, what could be better than this? Also I know he’ll adore the scratch-off part. I had the fun of writing on the black envelope and back of the card in gold ink, too.

I really admire Megan and Rob, both individually and as a couple. They have weathered tremendous storms together over the years, things that break many couples up, but when things get bad, my sister says, they “hold each other’s hands and walk through it together.” Happy anniversary, you two. I love you so much.

Flowers from the farmers’ market:

A beautiful card from the girls:

So true!

The lamp of my dreams. It’s from Monica’s store of fabulosity, and I have longed for it for months. It was well out of my price range, but Lu and Megan chipped in and got it for me! I cried. It’s handmade, with buttons and iridescent beading:

A close-up:

It adds a touch of civilization to the sleeping loft. And it goes perfectly with my duvet cover, seen here, modeled by Henry and June.

Speaking of June: I haven’t seen her all day, and I have to admit to a certain level of anxiety. Unlike most cats, June does indeed come when she’s called – at least, most of the time – and she has never, to my knowledge, let a feeding time go by without paying its due attention. She skipped breakfast, and as I write, I have yet to see so much as her little pink nose or a white paw.

I have called her and looked through the bushes near the house, Junk Alley, and the logging road to no avail. I asked Mark, and he said that she didn’t venture as far as their house, but he’d keep an eye open. I went all the down to my brother’s old house at the very end of the driveway, but nothing.

Given the kitty mortality rate lately (Henry; my friend Dali’s cat Delpi; my niece and nephew’s 18 year old cat Tiffy; and Rose’s lovely old cat Gertie), I can’t help but worry. Think good thoughts that my little June Bug comes home safe and sound. And soon.

Rain on the honeysuckle

As you can see, I gave myself a new look for my birthday!

According to my birth certificate, I was born at 10:38 am, which I think is a very civilized hour. So many babies insist on interrupting their mother’s beauty sleep to be born in the middle of the night. Or worse yet, at cocktail hour. So inconsiderate!

Since I was born in New York State, that means I’m turning a year older right about now….

And what an uninspiring day it is. Dark, rainy, depressing. I don’t think it has rained on my birthday since I moved to California all those years ago. The weather seems to have forgotten that it is supposed to get sunny in April and stay that way until November. They say old habits are hard to break, but it seems to have no trouble whatsoever positively shattering them.

It’s not looking good for fun on my birthday. The weather precludes any expotitions anywhere; the dogs won’t want to put as much as a paw outside; the birthday BBQ is cancelled; and I will have to make my own birthday dinner, since Megan is laid up for the duration.

I spent my birthday eve watching a couple of pre-Code movies about wicked women and drinking Cosmoplitans. Not only did they each have my favorite credit, “Gowns By”, they also lasted just over an hour each, which is perfect for me. Keep it zippy, is what I say.

First up was “Midnight Mary”, starring Loretta Young as the unlucky title character whose story is told in flashbacks as she is on trial for murder. Starting out with a poverty-stricken childhood leading to a mistaken conviction for shoplifting and an inadvertent turn as lookout for a couple of gangsters, Mary is rescued from a life of crime and debauchery by a wealthy playboy (former Barbara Payton plaything Franchot Tone), but her past catches up with her…

Filmed in 1933, the movie includes a scene of Mary losing her virginity in the back of car; whispering promises of sexual favors to come into her lover’s ear (while he licks her fingers); a baby born cheerfully out of wedlock to no-one’s chagrin; and women being slapped around by their lovers.

Next up was “Three on a Match”, with Joan Blondell being her wise-cracking self, Bette Davis in frightening platinum blonde hair, and Ann Dvorak as the girl who has everything. To lose. The three girls go to public school together, where Blondell’s character is a wayward hoyden, Dvorak’s a spoiled princess, and Davis hard-working and ambitious.

The girls grow up and run into each other by accident, sharing the title match and laughing about the superstition. Blondell is a stage star, Davis a stenographer, and Dvorak is married to a wealthy lawyer and has a young son, but is discontented with her life. She decides to take the boy and go for a refreshing trip to Europe with her adoring husband’s reluctant approval, but on the boat meets a handsome gambler and runs away with him, taking the boy with her.

Her sexy out of wedlock idyll soon degenerates into filthy rooms scattered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, as she lies on the unmade bed in a stupor, ignoring her hungry child. The gambler owes money to gangsters (one of whom is no less than Mr. Humphrey Bogart, in his earliest tough guy role), they are both addicted to cocaine, and the boy is dirty and neglected. The gangsters discuss killing the child in front of his drug-addled mother, who makes a spectacular sacrifice to save him.

All this and more in just over an hour. Look for Jack Webb’s (“Dragnet”) earliest film appearance as a boy in the schoolyard at the beginning of the film.

The salon

It was almost a year since my hay bale haircut, so it was definitely time for another one. This time, we went to our friend L’s house. To get there, you turn off the main road onto another one which eventually dwindles into a dirt path. You turn off that onto a seemingly endless dirt road, which must be a joy to drive on in the muddy winter, and leave your car near the gate. You go through the gate and climb down a narrow path generously strewn with redwood needles.

Amazingly, I failed to fall and roll down the steep slope, though on the way back I had to pause to catch my breath and wonder how on earth the builders got all their supplies down to the house site. Not to mention every day matters, like lugging groceries.

Arriving safely at L’s house, we were warmly greeted by his wonderful dog Padawan and wowed by the scenery. Since landscaping is both L’s vocation and avocation, it’s not surprising that his house is surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers:

We sat on his deck, which overlooks the view above, and had our hair cut. I think Megan had around six inches cut off her hair, and I had about four cut off mine. After our al fresco styling, we repaired to the picnic table in the garden and drank lemonade before heading back up the mountain to the car.

Somehow, our brother’s offer of making a birthday dinner for Megan morphed into his sisters’ buying everything and bringing it to his place for a barbecue, though he did give her a gift certificate for a massage and made a huckleberry pie. L came with his dog, and it was great to see Star meet her. Padawan is such a gentle, well-trained dog and is a great role model for Star.

Star meets Padawan

We sat around the fire, laughing and remembering the long-ago past when we were children together. The setting sun seemed to burnish our memories, making them golden as the chill of evening set in.

Yesterday was a fabulous girl extravaganza!

Erica called and said that she and Jessica were looking at a house about three miles down the road from my place, so they’d stop by and say hello afterwards. The house won’t actually be available to look at until next week, but they had a look at the outside and grounds, and it looks good so far. I would so love it if they were my neighbors! And it will be nice for Erica to have lots of help on hand if needed, instead of being all alone on top of the mountain where she lives now, with an hour’s drive to the nearest store.

They brought birthday gifts for Megan, including a mug which reads “My dog isn’t spoiled. I’m just very well trained” or something like that. So true! We sat in Megan’s garden in the welcome sun, looking like a huge Clorox stain against the greenery. I don’t know which of us is is the palest. Jessica sat on Megan’s lap and we made plans to go to the Big Fun Fair together next weekend. It’s Jessica’s favorite day of the year.

We’re still working on the June-a-palooza to celebrate my birthday, Lu’s, Erica’s, and Monica’s. Maybe a bonfire at Lu’s with a dessert buffet by Erica…

Yesterday afternoon, the West Coast SJP dusted off her diamonds and dove into some MAC for the first time in a while. Megan and I met up with Lu and Monica at the local movie theater to see the greatly-anticipated Sex & the City 2. We had feared a line, but instead we were the first ones there, and the entire audience consisted of maybe fifteen giggling girls (including us – four friends watching four friends).

We all enjoyed it tremendously. Everything that reviewers have objected to were the very things I loved about it: the clothes, the shoes, the fairytale location in Abu Dhabi, the pure escapism and beauty. Yes, I sighed over Carrie’s closet (and regretted that she and Big let that fabulous Fifth Avenue penthouse go in the last movie) and Charlotte’s matched set of Louis Vuitton luggage. I’m glad the ugliness of the recession and the drabness of everyday life hasn’t touched our glittering girls. Sue me. It was bad enough being returned to reality after two hours.

My only complaints were that there wasn’t enough Jason Lewis, who plays the swooningly handsome Smith Jarod, and there was too much Liza Minnelli (any Liza Minnelli is too much Liza Minnelli). Oh, and I could have lived without the karaoke scene. Other than that? Escapism at its best.

After the movie, we repaired to Silver’s at the Wharf in Noyo Harbor. Megan and I figured we hadn’t been there since Mom was alive (then remarked on how our parents’ existence or otherwise is now such a milestone in our lives). Lu, who is also an EMT, said the last time she was there was responding to a call for a patron with a heart attack. She said that the rest of the diners watched like it was a floor show as the EMTs worked on him. I wondered aloud what the correct etiquette is in such a situation. Ignore it? Watch and eat? Just watch, but don’t eat? Where’s Miss Manners when we need her?

The sun was slipping into the Pacific as I sipped my mojito and nibbled my award-winning crab cakes. I also kicked myself under the table for not bringing my camera so you could see it, too. We ate and laughed and talked until we were the last table standing – well, sitting. We all agreed that we must do this again, and soon. There’s nothing like spending time with the girls.

Birthday pie

Because, really, who doesn’t like pie better than cake?

I have to admit that I kind of threw together Megan’s birthday dinner. I couldn’t think of anything, but then I remembered that she likes a recipe I haven’t made for a while, and I had everything to make it except the chicken broth. So I ventured to the local store in the pouring rain, surprising a flock of ducks (and myself) on the road along the way. The ducks are new residents, and much more welcome than the pig part buffet (now vanished), though slightly more hazardous. Despite the rain, the bull in the field across from the store was in his usual spot, which is always reassuring.

While in the store, I noticed cherry pie filling and decided to make a pie, too. After all, when all you have to do is pour the filling in, it’s pretty easy. So my shopping consisted entirely of cans, which I guess is a step above shopping that consists entirely of sugar (PopTarts and SweeTarts). Sometimes I wonder what the staff at the store thinks of the shoppers. They must know everyone’s vices, since they’re the only store. There’s the guy who always gets beer and potato chips, there’s the cigarettes and cat food guy…

Back home, I put on the oven and put on Janis Joplin to keep me company as I cooked.

Pre-dumpling stew

Chicken Stew with Cornmeal Dumplings

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into pieces
4 cups chicken broth
1 bay leaf
2 celery ribs, diced
3 carrots, sliced
3 potatoes, diced
1 onion, diced
1 teaspoon dried thyme, or a couple of sprigs of fresh
Flour and water for cold flour paste (see directions)

For the dumplings:

1 cup flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter
2/3 cup milk

Slice and dice the chicken and veggies.

Heat large pot over medium heat (my Dad always said, “Hot pan, cold oil,” so that’s the way I do it). When warm, add enough neutral oil and a piece of butter (a mixture of oil and butter browns best, I think) to just cover the bottom of the pan. Add chicken, celery, and onions and sauté.

When veggies are softened and chicken nicely browned, add chicken broth. Make sure to scrape up all the brown bits. I use mostly Swanson’s low-sodium broth and then cancel it out with a can of Campbell’s, which has the best flavor, but most of your daily requirement of salt, too. Bring to a boil.

Make a cold flour paste. I learned this from my grandmother, and I don’t know the exact measurements, but put about 3 tablespoons in a teacup and add cold water from the tap, mixing all the time until you have a thin paste. Add to broth and mix in. If it doesn’t thicken to your desired consistency, repeat.

When broth is thick enough, add carrots and potatoes (I had some frozen peas on hand, so I threw those in, too) and simmer until tender, about half an hour.

To make the dumplings, combine flour, cornmeal, salt, and baking powder. Work in butter – I use a fork, and then my fingers – until crumbly. Stir in milk.

Drop tablespoons of dumpling batter on top of stew. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until dumplings are cooked through, about 15 minutes. Serve immediately.

Note: if you have leftovers, remove the dumplings before refrigerating. Seriously! If you don’t, the dumplings will soak up all the broth overnight and then you’ll have to go to the store again.

Megan gets a kiss from Shiloh, Monica’s foster puppy

It’s Megan’s birthday today. For the first time we can remember, her traditional birthday BBQ has been rained out. When we were giving Schatzi her walkette yesterday, Megan mentioned that Hooterville’s longest and most beloved resident had recently told her that one year long ago the rain had lasted until the Fourth of July. Let’s not try and break that record, ‘k?

Megan worked last night, but took the rest of the week off in honor of her birthday. She did this several months ago (both of us having a long-standing belief that working on your birthday is just wrong), before we had any idea that it could possibly still be raining. It’s supposed to stop raining on Friday, but even if it doesn’t, we will still have fun, because Monica, Lu, Megan and I have a date to see “Sex & the City 2” that night.

We’re hoping to have a combined birthday BBQ on the weekend. And at some point, we have to have a Juneapalooza, because Erica, Lu, Monica and I all have June birthdays.

Megan was supposed to be born on my birthday, but Mom’s obstetrician had a feeling something was wrong and took her out early (my brother was a Caesarean, and in those days, that meant that the next baby was one, too). Good thing, because the cord was wrapped around her neck, so she might not have made it.

Instead of being born on my birthday, she came home from the hospital on my birthday, and I couldn’t wait to peek in the bundle of blankets to see her. She was the best birthday present I ever had.

It’s 4:30 in the morning.

Do you know where your Suzy is?

Sitting by the heater with the radio on, blogging and wondering if the rain is ever going to stop. Not when, if. I passed when sometime in March. It’s not supposed to be raining this time of year, and we’ve had nearly 50 inches so far. Enough already. Is there some way to evict the weather and send it where it belongs? Say, Seattle or London? There are lots of destinations more exciting than Hooterville, my little low pressure system. Surely you’ve seen all the sights here by now.

I woke up about an hour ago and lay there for a while, listening to the rain slash the roof/walls and the wind howl through the trees, thinking how you’re supposed to find it all soothing and ponder the beauties of nature. But it makes me think unromantically about trees coming down and the power going out. Just the thought of the cold, dark boredom was enough to get me out of bed, especially since my brother had to repo the generator when his blew up. Might as well enjoy the warmth and light while I can.

We did have a break from the rain this weekend to celebrate Miss Jessica’s birthday en famille. I was once again the hostess with the leastest. Erica turned up with lasagna and a three layer cake. Not to mention decorations, a string of paper fairies wearing tulle skirts, which we fastened across the sliding glass doors. My brother turned up with little buns sporting chocolate icing faces. At least I had a present for Jessica, though (as usual) it was totally trumped by my sister’s.

Mark and his family came by for cake – Jessica loves playing with his daughters – and we all sang “Happy birthday” to her. I can’t believe she’s seven years old!

For some people, it’s children that make them realize the inexorable passage of time. Just yesterday, little Timmy was a teeny baby, and now he’s a sullen teenager working at the 7-11 and refusing to go to college. My, how time flies, honey!

For me, it’s my blog. Today marks the 9th year I have been blogging. Incredible, isn’t it? Never has so little been said by such a featherhead for so long.

For my birthday this year, I’d like you to leave a comment, even if it’s just “Hello” or “Happy birthday” or “I’m sending you a million dollars.” You know you want to.

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.”