Suzy Says

I’m pleased to announce that the floor is done in the bathroom:

So much nicer than lime green plywood! Here’s what it looked like in progress:

Rob did it bit by bit, partly because the tiles are not self stick and needed some kind of goop to be applied and then set for a day or two before being walked on, and partly so I was still able to use the bathroom while the floor was being worked on. When I couldn’t use the sink (the stage above), I realized that other than the bathroom, I only have one mirror in the house (upstairs on the side of the armoire/cat perch), a shocking oversight on the part of the frivolous and vain.

Still on the to do list:

• Install the extractor fan to help minimize dampness. Mark has allegedly ordered it, and even when it does arrive, wiring and switches are involved, so it won’t be quick.
• Take out the current towel rods and install the glass one with copper ends which Rob rescued and renovated.
• Repair the medicine cabinet. Ironically, this was the catalyst for the bathroom project and remains undone. The existing one had the mirror/cover hinges screwed into plastic, and surprise! They broke. It now hangs by a thread and at a dejected angle. Rob is thinking of expanding it and making it work with his Robness, but again this will not be a quick fix. I bet it will be cool when it’s done, though.

Rob thinks the whole room should be repainted (or painted at all, since it’s apparently just primer on there now), but I can’t say the project fills me with enthusiasm.

What I am enthusiastic about is the new door. Rob and I went to visit our neighbor who sold us the screen door for the sleeping loft’s balcony (for which I am thankful more than half of the year) to find one for the bathroom.

We wanted one that was narrower than the existing door, so it could actually clear the shower pan when opened, and had glass panes to let in light. We found one that was a little narrower (24 inches wide) than we wanted (though still wider than Megan and Rob’s front door, a mere 18 inches), but really beautiful:

The door needed accessories, like hinges and a beautiful vintage doorknob set:

I may well be a doorknob, because the door and its accoutrements were far and away the most expensive items at about $200 total (the tiles cost $6 total, and the light fixtures and towel rods were free other than refurbishing supplies), and also totally unnecessary. I could have just kept the door I had, but it makes the bathroom really dark, even in the summer. Let there be light, I say.

As soon as Rob and I got back to my house, we looked at the other bathroom door, with its cheap, shiny knob, and Rob said, “That’s gotta go.” I agreed, thinking of the many other lovely sets at the neighbor’s place. I could get one that’s less expensive, right? That’s what always happens: you fix one thing, and everything else looks terrible. Good thing the labor costs are so low!

Back when I lived in San Francisco, I wrote a post about my walk home from work. It was a beautiful walk through a beautiful city. Sometimes I still miss living there, but it’s more like I can’t believe I ever lived there than wanting to live there now. Even if I did, I’m priced out of the market: the average one bedroom apartment rents for $3,500 a month. And you can pay up to $50,000. A month.

I thought it might be fun for you to come along with me on my long drive to the Big Town. So settle back into Wednesday’s lovely leather seats, pray that no lights appear on the dashboard, get ready for some tunes, and let’s go!

Yes, the dirt/gravel driveway is in horrible shape, and you can feel the wheels cringe as you bounce and jolt your way down it. On the bright side, there is currently a tree covered with a cloud of white flowers arching over it in a splendidly bowery manner.

The Ridge is slightly better, especially once you pass the firehouse and get to the part that was paved in honor of Jim and Joel’s wedding last summer. Coming around a curve, the trees part, and you have a panoramic view of the Pacific. I never get tired of this reveal, and it’s where I try to gauge the weather for the day: white caps heralding storms, how far out to sea the fog is, etc. Sometimes you’ll see a migrating whale or a fishing boat. In any season and in all weathers, it’s always beautiful and always changing:

On your left is a field with happy cows and horses grazing peacefully among the elegant barn buildings. Yes, a barn can be elegant! At sunset, the field is suffused with pink. Across the street is beautiful downtown Hooterville, home of the post office, hardware store, and the Gro, its beating heart.

When you reach Highway 1, you turn left to go to the city and right to go to the Big Town. You cross the iconic Hooterville bridge:

the first of many – and pass a field of llamas across from a fancy inn, over a hill and you’re at Dark Gulch, where the trees provide eternal shade. You follow the curves past a resort and reach one of my favorite parts of the drive: a steep curve bordered by tall eucalyptus trees, which create a magical golden light when it’s sunny. There’s a peek of ocean beyond.

More curves and you pass the lovely cemetery with its walk to the ocean – not a bad place to spend eternity. Then the little town with the deli and inn (celebrating 75 years this year) with the bar which Megan and I enjoy so much. Around another curve is a beach beloved by kayakers and divers. Coming home, the descent to that beach is my absolutely favorite view, and on the way to work, I keep peeking at the view in the rearview mirror.

The highway more or less straightens out after that. You pass a beautiful Victorian house, now draped with wisteria, across from another field bordering the ocean, and soon you’ll get your first sight of the Village, perched dramatically on a long rocky finger jutting into the ocean. It looks like a postcard:

You arrive at the first traffic light of the drive, the last one before you arrive in the Big Town, home of the jobette, the Safeway, DMV, and other necessary but non-scenic places. I often think of it as the Ellsworth to the Village’s Bar Harbor.

On the way home, I often pass the Cal Trans prisoner work crews heading back to prison. I always wave at them, even though it’s not very likely they can see me behind the barred windows. But I’m thankful for their work clearing brush and other wildfire dangers from the sides of the highway, and I think it’s a great idea to give the prisoners a meaningful job to do as well as getting them outside for a few hours. Win-win as far as I’m concerned.

And there you have it! Maybe it’s a little long, but it’s a lot better than gridlocked traffic on a freeway. As a visiting writer for the Village Voice put it, “If I had guts, I would move to Mendocino County, California…During the summer, tourists flock to the wineries and the town serves as a popular seaside retreat. When winter arrives, it feels as empty as an abandoned fishing village off the coast of Newfoundland. It takes guts to survive, but the lifestyle payoff is enormous.”

I couldn’t agree more.

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.

Hello, I love you – won’t you tell me your name?

I left Wednesday at the jobette on Saturday, after notifying our alley neighbor that I was doing so and asking him to keep an eye on her. I figured it made more sense to just leave the car there, rather than get a jump to drive it home and again to drive it back to the car doctor on Monday.

Megan and Stella (seen smiling above) spent six hours in the sun on Saturday, looking for potential adopters for Stella. Stella loved all the attention, the cars, the people, the kids – she is definitely not a bumpkin! After the event, they came to pick me up at the jobette. Due to the car show, they had to park four blocks away. On our way to the car, we turned onto a street where there were two surfer dudes hanging out on a bench.

They noticed Stella right away, and when we reached them, they reached to pet Stella. She responded by joyously flinging her arms around one of their necks and cuddling her big head against his blonde dreads. They both laughed with joy. That’s the way Stella rolls: 150%, 150% of the time. The dude said that if he didn’t already have two dogs…

On Monday, my wonderful colleague Erin gave me a ride to work. I really enjoyed carpooling with her – maybe we should do it when I don’t have a car emergency sometime (assuming that time ever comes). I’m so lucky to work with such great people who care so much about each other.

I called the car doctor and asked them to send the SWAT team to get Wednesday started and drivable to the garage. I was delighted that they sent two girls (complete with sparkly manicures) to do the deed. I handed over the keys and hoped for the best.

They called me later to say that the battery needed replacing. They had one in stock, and when I went to get Wednesday from car daycare, learned that they hadn’t charged me for the diagnosis and had discounted the labor and the battery in recognition of all the time and money I have spent there (undoubtedly in the hope that I will keep doing just that).

I drove home without incident, and without any lights appearing on the dashboard. I am now phobic about dashboard messages and lights- I wonder if there is a psychiatric condition associated with this? Waking up to another day and having the car both start and keep going is about all I ask for now. Maybe lower expectations = more happiness?

Sleeping It Off

Well, here’s what’s happening around my house on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Roscoe is sleeping off his late night* on top of the armoire, a favored place among the cats. It is equipped with a quilt for their napping pleasure, and is the highest point in the house, so whoever is up there can keep an eye on what’s going on, as well as looking down on the Staff, as cats do. And there’s a breeze from the balcony – you can even get a glimpse of the beautiful pottery bird Rob hung up for me.

Speaking of Rob, he is working in the bathroom, installing two found light fixtures – both a huge improvement over the previous bare bulbs. The first one is made of copper, already patinaed:

The second one looks like an old schoolhouse light. I like the pull chain:

He has also found a glass towel bar which he is planning to fit up with copper ends to match the shower rod. Up next after that is the floor. No more electric lime green plywood! Woo hoo!

My brother just called to check on on Wednesday’s physical health and my mental health. Without looking at the car and just hearing symptoms, he thinks it’s probably the alternator and that it shouldn’t be too expensive to fix. Stay tuned.

As for me, I’m on my fourth load of laundry. The electrical system at Megan and Rob’s house doesn’t support a washer or dryer (or even a hair dryer, for that matter), so they do their laundry over here. Megan is working hard in the family garden (as I observed to her yesterday, her days “off” are what other people consider to be hard labor) and Rob is working hard in my bathroom, so I figure doing their laundry is the least I can do. It may also be the most! 🙂

*He came home at 1 am this morning. This is getting to be a bad habit. I’m trying to make my peace with it.

Maybe I’ll pick up one of these…

It’s been a delightful day so far.

I had a work call this morning (yes, on a Saturday) before heading to the jobette. I was planning to leave early, since I knew the annual Car Show was today (and I remembered what a hassle it was parking and getting to the jobette from last year), but Wednesday had other plans.

She decided that she’d rather stay home – and I understand that emotion – but I vetoed her with a jump start from Mark, who was on his way to Lake Pillsbury for his annual vacation with his family. Once I was up and going, they headed on their way and I headed to the car doctor, where they may well start charging me rent since I’m there so often. Like the Wednesday power outage, the Monday mechanic visit is getting a little old. And eerie. Is Stephen King scripting my life?

I pulled in to the car place and discovered that both the shop and the car rental parts of its trifold business (the third part being car sales) were closed on Saturday. My plan was to leave Wednesday there and get a rental, but alas, it was not to be. I noticed that the airbag light was on, but surely that can’t be enough to drain the battery overnight? The headlights were off and the stereo turns off when you open the car door, so it can’t be that, either. I’m hoping whatever it is, is (a) simple and (2) easy to fix.

I’ve gone out and started Wednesday up a couple of times since I got to the jobette, walking past the lovely old cars you see above. Wednesday started up, but I’m still concerned. Fortunately, Megan is in town today for an adoption event – still hoping to find the perfect home for Stella – and she said she will stand by to give me a ride or a jump start if needed.

What would I do without my family?

Woke up to yet another Wednesday power outage. At least it wasn’t in the middle of the night. What’s up with these out of season power outages? Maybe there’s a quota to fill, and since we hardly had any over the winter, now’s the time?

You’re probably wondering how the bathroom fix up is coming along. Anyone who has been through any kind of renovation or watched even a couple of hours of HGTV will not be surprised hear that it can be summed up in a word: slowly.

It’s partly because of the general Jamesian qualities of the room (all 7 feet by 5 feet of it), showcasing his inventive and carefree building practices, which have caused a few complications and will undoubtedly cause more, and partly because Rob’s been busy helping out over at the property where he can.

Still, a lot has happened since you last checked in with our heroine’s sanitary arrangements. Back then, Rob had just installed the shower pan, using found materials and creativity to make it straight, carefully sealed and glued in tight.

Up next were the faux tiles. It was slightly alarming to note that the little shavings Rob took off to make them meet properly were basically cardboard, but as he said, this is what they’re made for, so hopefully they will be OK. They have to be better than the mold-happy plastic stuff that was in there before. Right?

Here the first sheet of tiles has been applied and is being held into position while it dries. You can also see the sheetrock covering the cancelled window:

Here both sheets of tile are up:

Rob and I looked on line for a shower rod that would follow the lines of the shower pan, but they varied between $129 and $300, which equaled no for our non-budget. It seems a little odd to me that you can buy the shower pan standard but not the rod, though maybe they expect you to put in glass doors or something.

So Rob came up with something that was not only cooler, but basically free, since he found all the parts and then soldered them together. He added a support beam, so the rod isn’t supporting the entire weight of the shower curtain, especially when it’s being pulled aside:

It’s made out of copper, and I think it’s beautiful. Here’s a close-up, so you can admire Rob’s artistry:

I got some copper finish curtain rings and a copper finish shower caddy (note to Self: some editing of shower products is in order). Here you see Supervisor Clyde melted beside the shower, since we are in Day Three of the third heat wave in six weeks. That’s not math I enjoy.

After almost a month, I had kind of forgotten about taking a shower inside, though I was glad it was summer while showering out on the back porch. Rob took out the water flow restrictor before reinstalling the showerhead (don’t tell Big Brother; I think it’s illegal), thus rendering the shower fabulous. I’m not saying it can clear the cobwebs out of my head early in the morning*, but it feels awesome.

*Not even atomic café can do that.

I was once again rewarded with a midnight power outage for staying up late on my birthday. Again, it was a Wednesday night, but fortunately, this one only lasted a few hours, rather than the fourteen hours the other one did. Exchanging texts with Megan in the dark and silent depths of the night, I learned that no accidents had been reported, so maybe it was a wayward tree versus a power line.

These out of season, mid-week, midnight power outages are getting a little strange.

I spent my birthday eve proving that I may be older, but I’m not wiser. I left home early, planning to drop Wednesday off at what is rapidly becoming her daycare, or possibly private school, in time to get to the jobette. I went to the gas station ($50!) and then Safeway, where I chose a mid-price bottle of sparkling wine and a Vogue magazine about the Met Gala.

At the check out, I discovered that I had left my wallet in the car. I left my embarrassing at 8 am purchases with the clerk and went back to the car, where I noticed that I had left the gas cap off. Fortunately, it’s attached by a plastic thingie, like mittens with strings for cars (or Suzies, as the case may be). I closed the gas cap and went back to the store, where I told the clerk what happened. She laughed and said that at least I’d gotten all the mistakes out of the way early in the day, so I was good to go!

I laughed my way to the car and drove the short distance to the car place, which is a used car lot, garage, and the only rental car place in town all rolled into one. As I rolled down the window, opened the door from the outside, propping it open with my knee while I rolled the window up again (this has become my signature move over the past couple of months), I was approached by one of the car salesmen.

It turned out that he was a Ford salesman in Santa Rosa for many years, and, like me, has only ever owned Fords. He told me that Wednesday was in fact the Car of the Year in the year she was born (2008), so he was kind of surprised by the issues I was already having after such a short time in our relationship. Maybe I really am cursed. He further suggested that I might want to consider trading Wednesday in for a less temperamental model and gave me his card.

At the end of the day, I picked Wednesday up* after they had repaired the door so I could now open it from the inside as well as the outside. I went home without any nagging on Wednesday’s part, though a couple of days later, I noticed that the windshield fluid refused to squirt, so – stop me if you’ve heard this before – I’m going to drop her off and get what I hope is the final detail taken care of on my way to the jobette tomorrow. I have to wonder why there wasn’t an error message to alert me to this problem – Wednesday never fails to tell me that the door is ajar when doing my signature move, or that the trunk is open when I just popped it and am safely parked, but cars are designed by men, after all.

Here’s hoping that Wednesday and I both stay out of the shop for the rest of the year.

*On the bright side, they washed and vacuumed her and she looks fabulous.

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!

You know those people who can’t wear watches because their magnetic fields or something mess them up? I think I’m that way with cars.

The five year old car that I bought a mere five months ago is already having problems and costing me a fortune.

It all started when I drove home one day from the jobette and could not open the car door. At first, I reasonably assumed it was user error, as it often (always?) is in my case, but nope. Wednesday refused to open, so I rolled down the window and opened it from the outside. Jonathan thought he could eventually fix it, but it would mean taking the entire door apart (disassembly to repair almost anything appears to be a Ford specialty). Also he was in the middle of digging a well which was due to be inspected*, and wouldn’t have free time to fix it any time soon.

I got used to rolling down the window (at least it’s summer) and holding the door open with my knee while I rolled it back up again. But then more problems struck.

The engine light came on and the wrench light also. My opinion is that these lights should be replaced by dollar signs, since that’s what they really mean. My brother read the codes and it said it was the solenoid or similar. Unfortunately, he can’t fix transmission-related things, not having the specialized and expensive equipment for it, so it was time to go to the car doctor.

The car doctor said that he could diagnose and fix the solenoid thing à la carte, but that Wednesday was overdue for a 90,000 mile maintenance, and most likely the solenoid thing or whatever it is would be fixed by the zillion and one things included in the 90,000 mile maintenance procedure. Unfortunately, the maintenance procedure was $700.

It’s at times like this that I wish I were a real adult instead of the extremely faux one I am. Surely by the time a girl is more than half a century old, and with yet another birthday sparkling on the horizon, she ought to be able to make good decisions about things like this. Somehow I didn’t get the manual, or else I never read it, since we all know reading the manual is a last resort.

I decided to just do the maintenance and walked sadly to work, trying not to cry. It took two days to fix the car, and when I got it back, I learned that it would take a further $150 to get the part for the door and get it fixed, which I get to look forward to this week. Ever since I got the car back from the shop, I haven’t been able to make my iPod work with the car stereo, so it’s been long and silent drives to the jobette and back, alone with my deep thoughts.

When I put on my turn signal today to turn into the parking lot at the jobette, I got an error message saying “check turning lamp”. At least the other lights are off, right?

Maybe it’s just as well that I learned to drive so late in life. I may have saved a bundle!

*My siblings’ land partners have rented out their house in Grass Valley and are moving to the property to start building their house there. Since the house will have to be inspected, the well will, too, unlike the original one the boys dug a few yeas ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jessica also supervised Jonathan at the barbecue:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was 69.

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

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

Outside Roscoe, Inside Clyde

So Roscoe decided to stay out on the town last night, even though Hooterville is not renowned for its nightlife. He probably wasted his allowance on that fake ID.

When he hadn’t come home by the time I went to bed, I turned into Anxiety Girl, able to leap to the worst conclusion at a single bound. Unfortunately for Self, Anxiety Girl’s superpowers do not include sleeping. Roscoe eventually slunk home at 1 am, ate a fashionably late dinner, and then curled up against me purring and went to sleep as if nothing had happened. Everything was fine as far as he was concerned.

Unlike Self, he merrily leaped out of bed five hours later, though he can look forward to a nap this afternoon. Whereas I could have used a little more beauty sleep. Ask not for whom the alarm tolls. It tolls for thee.

I have to say, it’s been fun coming home and finding Rob here. The way he thinks is both unique and entertaining. Also it’s fun to see the developments on the bathroom front.

Yesterday, I arrived just as Rob was installing the shower pan. The new drain hole was in a different spot than the old one, so Rob cut a new hole and put the cut out piece in the old hole to seal it. Or as he put it, “I put the new hole in the old hole!” After installing the shower pan, he created a confection of towels and wood to clamp it in place as it dried overnight:

As you can see in the background, Rob has cancelled the window, as Mark puts it, by sheetrocking over it. He also removed the peeling green wallpaper from around the shower and painted over it, ready to tile. Here’s the cancelled window from the outside:

Yes, having a drafty window in my shower was a little odd, and the wood was rotten, but it always makes me sad to see windows boarded up and know that no-one will ever look out of them again. Also the bathroom is a dark cave without a window, so Rob is trying to figure out if he can cut one in the door to the back porch or maybe put a narrow one beside the shower, or both. Stay tuned.

We’re on Day Three of the latest heatwave, which broke records in downtown San Francisco yesterday by hitting 90 degrees, and it was about the same here in Hooterville. Today is supposed to be the final day of this hellacious weather – for now, they always come back in my bitter experience – and it was the perfect time to enjoy the outdoor shower on the back porch:

It’s a relic from the good old (or possibly bad old) days when there was no bathroom at all, simply an outhouse and an outdoor shower, both of which must have been uncomfortable when it was below freezing in the winter. But on a warm morning like this, it was delightful to shower outside and admire the view:

It’s close to high noon and the temperatures are inching up inexorably. Audrey is lounging in a lounge chair on the balcony and the boys are puddles of melted fur in front of the floor fan. Let’s hope Karl the Fog comes riding in on his silvery mist to save us all soon.

So…

In order to tell you something really cool, I’m going to have to show you something really embarrassing. Not that it should come as a total shock to you after reading about my house’s eccentricities for the past few years. I finally convinced Mark to do something about the horrors of my bathroom. You know, the room with: no insulation; no heating; a shower pan made out of painted wood where the drain is not the lowest part, so it doesn’t, you know, drain; a floor made out of electric green plywood…you get the picture. And here it is:

Whatever mystery panels were on the wall were, as you can see, impossible to clean. Even with straight bleach and a scrub brush. So I had kind of given up on the entire thing. The door is open to the back porch so you can’t see the window in the shower. It does kind of give you an idea of the scope of its awkward tininess, though, and a peek at the lime green floor. It’s a long way from the gracious bathroom I had in San Francisco:

The project started off slowly, with an actual, real (I think plastic, though) shower pan appearing at my house, where it sat outside during a couple of late season showers and the first heat wave of the season. Then Rob appeared with some black and white tiles he had found somewhere. Yesterday, he said he’d start to work on it today, just in time for the second heatwave of the season.

I was pretty sure he wouldn’t find Jimmy Hoffa or a million dollars (finders keepers!) under the mystery panels. If I was on one of those HGTV shows, he’d find a horrible problem which would cost so much money that they could no longer afford the sixth bathroom or closet annex on their house, and they’d be both furious and devastated. Since this is reality, not to be confused with reality TV, he simply found that it was wet. So when I came home from the jobette today, there was a fan blowing onto the bathroom, which was converted into a job site:

Clyde is inspecting it. Here’s the view from the back porch:

The window is gone, along with the shower, so I’m going to have to be really careful about going in and out of the bathroom tonight, since my goal at night is to keep Self and cats safely in the house and out of the darkness, which as we all know is The Enemy. I tried to call Rob to ask him about all this, but when I heard his phone ringing in the bathroom, I figured I should hang up and bring it to his house, where he wasn’t.

Stay tuned…

No sooner had last week’s heat wave finally abated than Megan and I chased it to Wilits, where the heat usually lives. Megan was questing for pepper plants and other things not readily available on the generally cool and breezy Coast. It’s a beautiful drive on highway 20:

This is looking west toward the coast from the 3,000 foot summit, where it sometimes snows in winter, as Megan can tell you from first hand experience, having driven a patient through blinding snow on that icy road in the deep country darkness back in the good old (bad old?) ambulance days. Even longer ago, it was a wagon route for the first settlers in this part of California.

Arriving in Willits, we made our way to the garden center, accompanied by Miss Stella. I was surprised and pleased by how much positive attention Stella received while we were in Willits. A guy on his way back to work at City Hall stopped to pet her, and she was welcomed at the garden center, where she relaxed in the greenhouse:

Many fellow shoppers took the opportunity to pet her, and Stella soaked up the attention as she always does. She loves town, and she loves attention. She also enjoyed the shade:

in a beautiful little tree-lined park in the historic downtown:

You wouldn’t be surprised to see Wally and the Beav chasing each other around in that park. It was like being in the past (one of my favorite places).

Megan was dissatisfied by the pepper plant selection at the first garden center, so we followed a local’s suggestion and visited a second nursery:

where Megan bought every pepper plant in sight and I amused myself by taking pictures of the quaint garden gate:

Megan didn’t really buy all the pepper plants, but she bought enough that they had to make extra beds for them and borrow all my leftover soil from last year to house them. I think there are 20 plants. We will be in pepper heaven this summer!

As if herding cats for three days (and nights) wasn’t enough, Rob also did some home improvements while I was away in San Francisco. You have to love coming back to a house that’s better (and prettier) than you left it.

He hung up this picture, which is not easy when you have curved walls:

It’s in the sleeping loft, but I can still see it from downstairs.

I fell in love with this vintage dove planter:

even though it needed some repairs. Rob not only repaired it, but wrapped together copper wires to make an absolutely gorgeous hanger for it. He then installed it in the peak of the balcony outside my bedroom door:

It looks so perfect that I’m not even going to plant anything in it. I’m just going to enjoy it swaying in the wind, whether I’m inside or outside. I’ll add some photos of the balcony soon – I have a kind of retro thing going on out there. Also the remedial roses are FINALLY looking good, after cutting them back ruthlessly twice. I was surprised and delighted to see that the little rose that could is finally blooming – the flowers are white.

Rob put up a hose reel I bought to keep the hose from sprawling all over the balcony:

While he was up there, Rob installed a proper door handle on the screen door we bought last year, and a little bumper thing so it doesn’t smash up against the roof every time I open it.

Much better than the hook and eye I had put on to keep it closed and the kitties in. Speaking of kitties: Rob put a cover over the crawl space in the studio so the cats can’t use it as an exit:

I had it plugged up with storage bags of clothes and blankets, but again, this is much better.

He is also working on the “front” door, which has been slowly separating and getting harder and harder to open. Here you see the work in progress from the inside:

And the outside – kitty proofing the door with an old piece of carpet he found:

As he observed, gravity is your friend…until it isn’t. Good thing for me that Rob is always my friend.

Go pour yourself a glass of something and sit down. This will take a while.

Ready?

So…last month, my buddies at Covered California called me on April 8 to tell me that the deadline to make my initial payment was April 10. I never did get the letter with the PIN I was supposed to use to pay them. I gave them my credit card number, flinching at the $351.01 (don’t forget the penny). Oddly, my insurance was effective April 1, or a week before I made the payment. April Fool’s?

A couple of weeks later, I received my membership card and instructions on how to register on line. Needless to say, the website did not recognize the membership number on my card, so I was reduced to calling the behemoth bureaucracy.

When I finally got through to an actual person (who was quite nice), I got the bad news, and then the bad news:

1. Dr. Sue and the entire clinic are not covered by the très expensive insurance. So I can either go to a whole new, unknown doctor or keep paying for the annual visit myself. So I’ll be paying $351 a month for insurance I can’t use (unless something really bad happens – always a possibility).
2. Because they were so late in billing me this month – apparently, the bill that went out yesterday should have gone out on the 22nd, they are billing me for May and June at once, or $702.02. Yay!

I have to say, I’m not vey impressed with this whole thing. I do not find the Affordable Care Act affordable at all. Even though my job is supposed to defray $400 of the $702, that still leaves me with a $300 payment for insurance I can’t use, and that’s not even considering all the bureaucratic idiocy that accompanied the entire process. It’s been a complete débâcle from start to finish, and the end result seems to be that I’m paying a lot for nothing.

Later: Just got a letter dated March 27, sent to my house’s address rather than the mailbox where I actually get my mail, telling me that I owe my first premium. Which I paid last month. Did I mention that one of the first things they asked me on the phone today was my mailing address, which they said matched their records? You can’t make this up!