Suzy Says

Gloomy morning to you! It’s the calm before the storm.

The weather seers are calling for the worst storm in a decade, with high winds and torrential amounts of rain (6 to 8 inches in a 24 hour period). It even has its own hashtag on Facebook. The National Weather Service is predicting that the highway will flood this afternoon and cause the powers that be to close it. Speaking of power, we may not have any a few hours from now, which is why I have the Christmas tree on and sparkling while I can:

Also it’s cheery in the gloom.

I wasn’t intending to put the tree up this year. It’s 65 years old or more (time to retire?), very sheddy, and a little on the Charlie Brown side, as you can see. I was going to get some branches of greenery, put the ornaments on them, and put it on the table, but I realized that table space is at a premium, and I need somewhere to put the stockings.

So I hauled the tree down from the storage loft and put it up, then wound lights along the banister:

I went with non twinkling white lights this year, and I really like the look and the glow. The colored lights went out on the balcony:

Christmas lights look better with a palm tree:

And finally, the wreath that matches the tree went on the door:

So the house is as ready for the holidays and the storm as I can get.

When I was driving to and from the jobette yesterday, it was hard not to be both mesmerized and terrified by the ocean, which was spectacular with crashing waves and high surf, but that terrible beauty usually heralds a storm and a half. Stay tuned!

A YEAR AGO: It was a lot colder, with frozen pipes and water buckets.

The Morning After

The rain kindly held off on Thanksgiving Day, even giving me enough time on the day after to move the buckets of wood for the outdoor fireplace under cover and to put the hanging plants out to get a shower. I had just finished all this when the rain began to fall and the cats came running back inside.

As I tidied up the house, I wondered why I had bothered tidying the day before. After all, I knew the house would be a mess the day after, even with people washing dishes as we went along the feast preparation road. It’s just one of those things about having a really small house and a kitchen that is undersized even by Manhattan standards. I guess I want to act like I am tidier and more civilized than I really am.

Erica and Jessica arrived bearing gifts: wild mushroom tartlet appetizers; three different kinds of cranberries (chutney, made with figs and quince; relish; and shrub, which you will hear more of later); rolls; and a spicy pumpkin pie, truffle-like in its utter richness. Oh, and a meat thermometer.

I had put Turkzilla in the oven about two and a half hours prior to their arrival, and applied foil after its initial hour in the oven because of the undue brownness. Erica opined that I had unwittingly fast roasted it at 400 degrees in foil rather than roasting it at a slower, more civilized pace, and that all 22 pounds of it might in fact be cooked. The meat thermometer claimed it was, though we turned the oven down dramatically and left it in there a couple more hours just to be sure. It looked pretty good:

After the turkey crisis was handled, I showed the girls my new bathroom, which Jessica pronounced “much improved”. I think Rob should make a little plaque with his initials on it and install it near the baseboards somewhere. An artist should sign his artwork.

Erica went to hunt mushrooms for dyeing (and found a bag’s worth of different hues), so Jessica and I explored my jewelry box, which mollified me after the rejection of my jewelry in the big city. Jessica thinks my jewelry taste is impeccable, and accessorized me for the evening with a string of jade beads my father brought me from China, my mother’s moss agate earrings, and a turquoise pin that had been my grandmother’s. She accessorized herself with my moonstone necklace:

When Erica came back from foraging, she made magical cocktails in my grandmother’s wine glasses with the cranberry shrub. Shrubs date from Colonial times (how Thanksgiving is that?), and are sweetened vinegar-based syrups that can be mixed into soda water or other fruit juices. Erica mixed it with clementine soda and added vodka to mine for extra fun:

I couldn’t resist eating the pickled cranberries in the drink – delicious and intense!

Lichen arrived with the happy news that he has found a new house and mostly moved into it. He said that it looks like a two story wine cask, and it’s just a few miles south. Though it doesn’t have a kitchen, the owners have invited Lichen to design an Ikea kitchen which they will then have shipped up from the Bay Area. Apparently, you can design it on a computer and see how it will look, move things around, etc. before your landlords buy it for you. I’m so happy for Lichen, and we are planning go over and check it out next weekend. I was also pleased to hear that Michael found an affordable place in Hooterville. Maybe things really do work out for the best.

At the end of the evening, Megan and I sat chatting by the fire with a last glass of wine, and I thought that I actually feel more thankful now that the future is so uncertain, rather than less. I am rich in family and friends who are family, and I know that whatever happens, they will do their best to help me, and I will never really be alone. I have a lot to be thankful for.

A YEAR AGO:
Thanskgiving prep.

OK. The turkey’s in the oven, the stuffing is made, the potatoes are peeled and cut up, the onion butter is made. Wine and beer are chilling in the refrigerator, along with various bags of things and stuff, such as segmented tangerines and thinly sliced red onions for the salad and sliced green onions (to be added to the butter with shallots and leeks for the mashed potatoes).

I didn’t intentionally create a onionpalooza for Thanksgiving dinner, but writing about it, I see that I have. I must be celebrating the fact that Jessica now likes onions. I was always amused by the fact that she would eat things like eel sushi but not onions.

Yesterday, Megan came by before work with a monstrous 22 pound organic turkey bought at a discount from the ever useful Gro, and a giant bag of russet potatoes (hence the peeling). She bought mixed seasonal greens this morning after work – shopping at 6 am on Thanksgiving Day is the only way to go – and sent them over via Rob this morning, when I was elbow deep in stuffing and rocking out to AC/DC. A girl needs music if she’s going to cook that much that early.

After the cooking was under control, I headed over to my brother’s place in the beater car, so I could drop off a bucket of compost and pick up some wood for the outdoor fireplace, along with our Mom’s roasting pan for Turkzilla. It turns out that my brother is coming down with something, and that Dave is sick, so our numbers keep shrinking while the turkey keeps getting bigger. More wine for me!

Back home, I decanted the wood and then cleaned up the house (including deconstructed, non-turkey bird) to the best of my limited patience, and then turned my attention to the outdoors, moving the cars out of the way, moving the outdoor fireplace near the seating area, cleaning up the remainder of construction debris, curling up the hoses, sweeping off the porch, etc. I am a little concerned that the rain forecast for tonight will arrive earlier than we’d like. Don’t get me wrong, we are all eagerly anticipating rain for the next few days, but I just hope it holds off until the guests, if any, have gone home.

About six hours after I started, I changed my clothes and curled my hair and now both the house and I are about as presentable as we are going to get.

While I was doing all this, it occurred to me that even though things are not great right now, with unemployment rearing its ugly head and fears for the future all too real and all too scary, I still feel very thankful for what I have. I’m thankful for my family, my friends (including you, dear reader), my cats, my little house, the memories of my parents and grandparents, and the good things, both great and small, that happen every day.

A YEAR AGO:
One of those days. I see I drove the heap that day, too!

Sunset at Wild Fish

While waiting for my life to get off the back burner and on to the front one, I went to meet some friends for dinner.

We decided to meet on the early side, and as I drove oceanwards on the Ridge, the sun was beginning to set in a spectacular way. Pink and golden clouds billowed through the darkening blue sky, and the ocean was a steely lavender. A single fishing boat was making its way to the harbor in the Big Town, shining in the last rays of the sun.

The contented cows in the field across from the post office glowed in the fading daylight, and pale pink roses tumbled down a rustic wooden fence. After a short but curvaceous drive, I passed the peaceful old seaside cemetery and arrived at the restaurant, seconds after my friends, who were just getting out of their truck.

Though I have driven past the restaurant many times, and worked with the owners in my jobette capacity, I had never eaten there before. The restaurant is very small, but beautifully decorated. There are windows on two sides to take advantage of the stunning ocean view, and seating for about twenty people. The room glowed with candlelight.

We shared a bottle of local wine as we perused the menu. It was hard to decide what to have, since everything looked so good. We shared a mixed seafood platter, which included fresh oysters with champagne mignonette, roasted mussels and clams with rose harissa, and smoked sablefish, along with Fuji apple and artfully shaved black radish. It was delicious! I decided on bouillabaisse, which arrived garnished with a perfect rouille and two enormous prawns. My friends know the chef, who came out of the kitchen to check in with us.

We had a wonderful evening, enjoying the food and each other’s company as well as the view. When we left, there were people waiting for tables at 8:00 on a Sunday night – surely a sign of an improved economy. My friends picked up the tab, to my surprise and delight. We hugged goodbye in the parking lot and went our separate ways into the sunny night, glowing with good food and friendship.

A YEAR AGO:

The Kitty Report.

Showered with Confetti and Love

The Giants celebrated their epic World Series win with a parade down Market Street – San Francisco’s Main Street – to City Hall, where Marilyn Monroe married native son and baseball legend Joe DiMaggio 60 years ago. They were showered with showers, but also a hail of confetti and love. No stranger to triumphal processions through the City streets after two earlier World Series wins, manager Bruce Bochy said that he had never heard anything like the thunderous applause and screams that met the returning heroes, especially Madison Bumgarner, who was deafened with howls of “MVP” everywhere he went, perched on the back of a flatbed truck:

An observer described the pandemonium as “something between pagan idolatry and Beatlemania”.

I hope we get to do it all over again next year.

Meanwhile, back in Hoooterville, I woke up to a welcome inch and a half of rain in the gauge and a slightly less welcome forecast of heavy rain accessorized with possible thunderstorms and hail – definitely not ideal trick or treating weather. However, the forecasters were wrong, as so often happens, and there was really no need for me to haul along my winter coat and two umbrellas as well as wearing my rain boots.

This year, instead of going the Village as usual, we met Erica and Jessica at Jessica’s friend’s house. It was more of an estate to my mind than a house, since it included sweeping vineyards and several outbuildings. There was a cauldron of tea and a buffet of Halloween food:

Here’s a close-up:

Both Erica and Jessica had made their own costumes, though Erica did add the zipper to Jessica’s dress. They were Undead Alice in Wonderland and the Red Queen:

Here’s a close-up of Jessica’s apron. It’s hard to tell from the picture, but she embroidered “We’re all mad here” and made the teeth all texture-y:

Erica made her entire costume other than the boots, including the horns, yarn wig, corset, velvet cape, etc. You can see these girls share genes and attitude!

Erica also brought kitty ears for me to wear:

We had the following text exchange:

Erica: Cat ears are black with pink inside and some sparkle. 🙂

Me: How Suzy is that?!

Erica: That’s what Jessica said!

Me: Sparkly minds think alike.

A YEAR AGO:

Happy Halloween!

The San Francisco Giants Win!

The Giants won their third World Series title in five years on Wednesday night. Above, you see Buster Posey, the team’s valiant catcher, my favorite Giant, and owner of the best name in baseball, hugging pitcher Madison Bumgarner, the stoic country boy who is now a hero and a legend.

With all the stress in my life lately, it’s been hard to watch the World Series. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but the anxiety is tough in my weakened condition. The Bumgarnerless night before the Giants’ victory, they were smoked 10-0 by Kansas City in Game 6, and I had to stop watching after about the third inning because I just could’t take it anymore.

Last night, the Giants scored two runs, were tied by Kansas City, and then Joe Panik (the second best name in baseball) made a crucial double play. Pablo Sandoval, the beloved big bear known as The Panda, made what would become the game’s winning run with a mighty swing:

Despite his size, The Panda can run as well as he can hit, and as if that weren’t enough, he also caught the last out which won the Giants the Series. He lay for a second on the grass, where he had dived to make the catch, before being swarmed by his teammates who lifted him up and carried him into the joyous knot of players surrounding Bumgarner, the calm, unruffled, 25 year old hero of the Series.

Bumgarner pitched this epic Game 7 just two days after pitching a shutout game. His father was asked if he thought his son could pitch again so soon, and he replied, “I didn’t know if he had enough left tonight. But I did know that boy would try to steal a steak off the devil’s plate.”

And he did.

Here’s to the Giants dynasty, their fans, and the beautiful city they call home. And next season!

A YEAR AGO:

Seasonally Affected

Before I tell you about the county fair, I have an announcement to make: it’s raining! It started yesterday evening and I rushed to put the hanging plants out so we could all enjoy the welcome, effort-free watering. I was thrilled to find half an inch of rain in the rain gauge this morning (imagine its surprise) and the usual leak puddling on the kitchen floor. As I write, it’s still raining and the garden and I are sighing with happiness. The kitties, not so much.

Roscoe has gone back to bed, as he often does in weather which is not up to his standards. Audrey is sitting on the front porch glaring at the rain, and Clyde is sitting on the back porch, watching it like it’s a movie.

As for the fair, Megan and I ventured to the beautiful Valley on a Sunday afternoon, the last day of the festivities. It was foggy on the coast, but sunny in the Valley, where the giant apple (does it have a name? Andy Apple sounds good to me) greeted us:

Inside the fairgrounds, we passed the Ferris Wheel, which always reminds me of Henry and Fern in “Charlotte’s Web”, and also of my horror when I actually tried it out a few years ago:

We met up with Jessica, who scampered off to go on the rides with hr friends, and Erica, who was our fearless guide to the fabric and fiber building. Inside, someone was demonstrating the correct way to shear a sheep, and Erica’s gossamer shawl had taken every prize known to fairdom:

including grand champion, first place, division champion…you get the picture. I imagine her fellow contestants heartily wish her back in Portland when fair time rolls around.

She spun, dyed, designed and crocheted (or possibly knitted) this wonderfully webby creation herself. Even Charlotte would be impressed:

and no photo can do it justice. I did try, though.

Jessica had a couple of her haikus prominently posted in the window of another building:

I love how she mixed mythology with Addams family aesthetics.

Jessica was excited to show us the “snack size sheep”, but alas, they had packed up and gone home. We soon learned that the major drawback of going to the fair on Sunday afternoon is that the 4-H kids had packed up their bunnies and fancy fowl and things like that, as well as most of the animals, which are kind of my favorite part. There’s always next year…

We stopped by the agricultural building to admire the biggest pumpkins:

The biggest one was 700 pounds!

Jessica posed by the array of apples:

I remarked wistfully to Jessica that she wouldn’t want to meet up with us at the fair much longer (this was the first year she had gone off to the rides with her friends, and she is 11 and a half now), and she said cheerfully, “The hormones haven’t kicked in yet!” Then she added, “Maybe I’ll be like you and never grow up.”

I hope so.

It’s certainly been a good year for plays. Friday marked the third play I attended this year, and the second one based on a beloved film. Last time, it was The Breakfast Club, produced and acted in by teenagers, and this time, it was The Graduate, produced and acted in by grown-ups. They were both wonderful.

Before the play, Megan and I met up with Lu at Frankie’s in the Village, where we sat outside to enjoy our chicken pesto piadines (basically a big salad inside a flap of flatbread, and impossible to eat daintily, at least by me) and a bottle of local, organic wine:

It was from Yorkville Cellars, where I stopped in to drop off some jobette-related materials but didn’t drink the wine, even though I wanted to, and which, it turns out is delicious.

We had a lovely time messily eating our salad sandwiches and catching up on each other’s lives, though it was strange to be there without any dogs. Frankie’s owner has her own rescued pit bull, and welcomes dogs of all kinds on the patio of the restaurant. One of the things I love about this county is how dog-friendly it is.

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

We picked up our tickets at the box office, and settled into our seats. The play was directed by one of the dancers from the burlesque show I enjoyed last year, and speaking of dancers, Lu’s niece played the stripper in “The Graduate”, doing a wonderful job with wit and style. She is part of the same burlesque troupe as the play’s director, and is also a fire dancer and belly dancer, so you can imagine that the girl has moves!

The cast was all great, especially Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson, who followed the tradition started by Kathleen Turner of courageous full nudity on stage. The drama and comedy of the film were beautifully captured, and of course the soundtrack is fabulous. It was a wonderful evening with two of my favorite girls.

Birthday Girl

So it’s this weekend, and I still haven’t written about last weekend! After work, I stopped by the family property for Kalli’s birthday party and BBQ. Jarrett’s beautiful girlfriend celebrated her 21st birthday* on a beautiful day, surrounded by friends and family.

Being from Willits, where, as you know, they usually keep the heat which occasionally escapes out to the Coast for a vacation, she came prepared with a wonderful canopy (we all immediately decided that we should look into getting one) for shade:

as well as lots of coolers (stocked with ice and beverages), tons of food, and tents. She and Jarrett and their friends had plenty of room to camp in the huge garden.

Jonathan manned the grill as usual, producing pulled pork, chicken, and vegetarian options for burritos, garnished with onions from the garden and peppers from somewhere else (the garden ones are not quite ready yet, though there are green beans, peas, summer squash, and strawberries galore).

After dinner, there were pies. The one on the left is a blackberry pie, made from blackberries picked that day, and the other is cherry, both made from scratch, though the cherries were picked by someone other than us:

Dave and Jennifer joined us. They are digging a new well down at their place, and getting started on preparations for building their house there. It was great to see them and catch up on their news. I feel so lucky to have such great friends, family, and family who are also friends – not to mention friends who are family!

*Like many other beautiful girls, including my niece Cat and my cat Audrey, her birthday is July 2.

Today is the birthday of fabulous girls: Audrey, the queen of my house, has been bossing me around for seven years now; it’s my niece’s birthday in far off Australia (though maybe it was yesterday, or tomorrow, or last week since she is on the other side of the world), and Jarrett’s lovely girlfriend Kalli is also celebrating a birthday, though her official party will be held next weekend at the family property. Happy birthday, beautiful girls!

Yesterday was the jobette’s birthday. It was founded five years ago, and since I have worked there for three and a half years now, I like to think I’m part of its success. We got lunch from The Q, turned the sign to “Closed”, and drank local sparkling wine (voted best in the state at the California State Fair), followed by cake. It was really fun, and I love the people I work with.

After the celebration, it was back to business as usual, including my yearly performance review, which went well. It’s nice to be appreciated.

Of course, it was also Canada Day, and Megan and Rob’s 23rd anniversary. I passed Rob in the driveway and wished him a happy anniversary. He looked confused, and then said it was the 27th and he still had a few days. He looked horrified to learn that he was wrong on this point. Later, I texted Megan to wish her a happy anniversary and she had also forgotten. So they were even.

I just adore a bookstore view*

Amazingly for someone who has been reading since the age of three, I had never attended a reading** at a bookstore before this week. It was at the lovely bookstore in the village:

which not only boasts the view you see above, but has a resident cat, Catsby, and a staff who adore Miss Stella (unlike Catsby). They served nibbles and local wine as we joined the standing room only crowd in the back room, usually devoted to children’s books.

The lecture was given by Lloyd Kahn, an expert on tiny and alternative homes. Interestingly, he actually published his first book on this subject more than forty years ago, but it is now becoming a hot topic, partly because of people’s desire for “green” living, and – I’m guessing – partly because of the challenging economic times.

There was a slideshow with various small homes, ranging from gypsy caravans to converted school buses and collapsible homes that can be carried on a pick up truck. They ranged from the very basic to the very fancy (radiant heated floors and granite counter tops). It was fascinating to see how creative people are, and we learned that if you are going to live in a very small space, it’s important to have the windows at eye level to avoid feeling claustrophobic. Curved ceilings (though not as curved as mine) also help with this. We’ll have to keep all this in mind if/when we build over at the family property.

On our way back to the car, we noticed that several buildings in the Village were wrapped with felting:

And even quilts:

I later learned that this is called “yarnbombing” and is a form of graffiti or street art, in that it’s not a permanent art installation. This installation was done with the permission of the businesses involved, but often installations are not, and those are considered guerilla art. These particular pieces are mostly hand woven and hand dyed, as well as hand knitted or felted. Truly amazing! You just never know what you’ll find in this little corner of the world.

*Imagine Eva Gabor in “Green Acres” saying this.

**Due to my work schedule, I was unable to attend the reading by Damien Echols at the Ferry Building in San Francisco last night. He is the author of the one of the most moving and amazing books I have ever read, Life After Death, and was wrongly sentenced to death at the age of 18, spending nearly 20 years on Death Row before finally being freed.

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.

Birthday Garden

As you can see, my birthday dawned bright and beautiful. All the doors are open, and scent from the honeysuckle bush is wafting in. There seem to be more flowers than ever this year, and the hummingbirds are buzzing around it all day.

Yellow Dog came by, still looking for Schatzi after nearly a year. I wish I could tell him that his friend is no longer here to play with him. I should try and find his continued visits comforting rather than sad. I didn’t realize what an integral part of my day seeing Schatzi was until she was gone. She would trot by a few times a day, never coming in the house but always nearby. I could always count on seeing her smile and her distinctive prance. We all miss her so much.

Speaking of coming in the house, Yellow Cat just came a few steps into the hallway by the “front” door. It’s lucky for him that Audrey is Elsewhere. He certainly is a handsome boy. Even though I don’t live in Michigan, where they are considering a limit on the number of pets per household, I think I’ll self-impose a three cat limit for this household. I’m sure part-time cat staff Rob and Megan would agree.

While coffee perked, I waited for the ever-slow satellite interwebs to download my email, which was taking longer than usual. I was horrified by the number of messages until I realized that about 99% were birthday, not work, related. Huzzah! There was a really nice one from John and a text from my brother saying, “I’m so glad you were born. When do you want your party?”

I’m looking forward to champagne (already chilling) and Season Two of Orange Is the New Black, which will be released on Friday. It used to be that Sex & the City started their new seasons near my birthday, so OITNB is my new birthday present. I’m looking forward to watching it with my fellow fan Megan.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes! It’s lovely to be loved!

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!

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!

Happy birthday to my blog! It’s a sullen thirteen years old today! Tomorrow I’m off to San Francisco, where my blog was born, which seems appropriate. First visit to the City this year – clearly I will not keep up with last year’s record-setting pace of nine trips in twelve months.

At least I remembered this all-important day this year, unlike last year. And for the first time, I realized that my blogaversary falls on 420, the day that celebrates all things marijuana. It’s especially funny since I live in Weed Central. According to the webmaster at the jobette, about 75% of Twitter posts and webs searches about our county are pot-related. For added amusement, I can’t stand the stuff ( I really dislike the smell) and would prefer a cocktail any day or night of the week. I’m old school like that.

In some ways, just having a blog seems to be old school in the light of Twitter, Secret and things like that. Maybe technology years are even more than dog years and my blog is teetering on the brink of antiquity, along with its writer.

Oh, well. New isn’t always improved. Thanks for coming along for the ride so far, and here’s to the next thirteen years! Toast with your intoxicant of choice! 🙂

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!

The rain is really trying to make it up to us. According to my friend and neighbor Jim, we got more than three inches of rain yesterday, and I emptied more than five out of the rain gauge this morning, and five is as high as the rain gauge goes.

I can believe it – it was pouring last night when I drove home from the Village. I went to see a play of the beloved film The Breakfast Club, which made its début thirty years ago this week.

This production was my friends’ daughter Maya’s senior year project. She wrote the play script based on the movie, designed the set, chose the actors, acted in it, and directed. Did I mention that she is sixteen and is going to college in the Fall?

Maya did a great job. I was surprised that the minimal set worked so well and that Maya was able to effectively capture scenes like the chase in the hallway and the dance in the library. I really enjoyed it, and on my way out, I told the kid who played Bender what a great job he did. He ducked his head with embarrassment and thanked me.

I ran to the car, but was soaked anyway. When I got home, the kitties greeted me happily. This morning, though, they didn’t care that I got to bed late. Audrey insisted on going out at 6:30, and I fed the insistent Clyde and went back to bed. Clyde had other ideas, though, and kept making his distinctive ClydeSounds™ while walking all over me. I gave up and got up and let him out into the rain. I guess the cats have their own Breakfast Club.

Or, sweepings from the corners of my life…

The big moment!

In just a couple of hours, my boss from the jobette (third from the left, or the rebel with the long hair, as my co-worker phrased it) will be meeting President Obama. Can you believe it? Instead of being at his desk in our office (a converted JP Penney store), he will be standing in the Oval Office with the most powerful man in the world. He might even get to shake the president’s hand! The occasion is the President’s signing into law an act making the Stornetta Public Lands on the beautiful south coast part of the California National Monument, protecting its breathtaking views and sensitive ecosystem forever.

I’ve been participating in the twice monthly conference calls dedicated to this project for a year now, so I feel that in some small way I am part of this success for our county. My father (whose birthday is less than a week away) would be proud.

So, yeah…health insurance.

Jarrett’s been helping me find my way through the labyrinthine maze of health insurance. As I suspected, I make “too much” money to qualify for assistance with the premiums. You’d think I’d be used to being squeezed like a lemon as a member of the rapidly dwindling middle class, but I’m still bitter about paying $250 a month for it, especially since I’m still paying off Wednesday for the next two years or something.

I get to pay $250 a month and the cost (“co pay”) to see the doctor is about the same and the prescription cost is more than I pay now, without insurance.

Sigh.

Speaking of Jarrett, there was an earthquake on Sunday night, centered 50 miles out in the ocean from the town where Jarrett lives, which is a two hour drive north of Hooterville. Jarrett was fine and there was no damage. I didn’t feel it, though Megan did. She said it was the longest one she could remember in quite a while, and Jarrett agreed.

I think even the earth is revolted by the hideousness of the time change. I know I am.

Megan came home yesterday to find Audrey in her – that is, Megan’s – bedroom. At first Megan thought it was her cat Ramona, who is also a tabby but is much bigger than Audrey, until she got one of Audrey’s patented Stinky Looks before Audrey vacated the premises.

I wonder how often my cats go over there and what they do when they are there. Maybe it’s because Megan is their Staff when I’m away and so they think of her house as kind of their other house?

A beautiful day to jump in with both feet!

I don’t know what you do on a windy Saturday in February, but if you’re my brother Jonathan, you jump into a frigid river as it meets the equally frosty Pacific. Not just for the hell of it, though that would not be surprising (he is, after all, a guy who thoroughly enjoys a cliff rescue and winter camping in the snowy Sierras), but to benefit Special Olympics.

In addition to running into burning buildings and fighting 60 foot high wildfire blazes for no money, Jonathan also works with developmentally challenged adults, so the cause is near and dear to his heart. A couple of his clients were on his team, including Frank, who has helped out at the jobette from time to time, and who now works at a local garden center. He’s also a really good artist. Here’s a card he gave me with his drawing of an owl:

I love owls. And Frank.

The sign welcomed us, flapping in the breeze:

My brother ordered costumes for this year’s Plunge, but they didn’t arrive in time, so they will wear them next year. The outfit of choice seemed to be overalls:

That’s Frank on the far left and my brother in the middle. When I posted this on Facebook, one of my brother’s friends commented, “Is that a redneck Speedo?” 🙂

Just minutes later, they ran into the freezing cold river. My brother actually dunked his head under a couple of times, and he was all smiles when he came out:

I bet his official sweatshirt felt really good:

I’m glad I was there to cheer them on and donate to such a worthy cause. I am so proud of my brother and his team!