Suzy Says

It’s raining, it’s pouring

Woke up about 3:00 am to the oppressive and depressing silence of a power outage – other than the howling of the wind and pounding of the rain. I miss the comforting hum, light, and warmth of civilization pretty much immediately. Fortunately, there is a little emergency light beside the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, giving a beam of hope in the darkness of the night, so I was able to make my way downstairs to my cell phone* (I generally leave it plugged in when I’m at home, since the lack of cell service makes it keep looking for a signal, which in turn runs down the battery).

I called the familiar PG&E Outage Line – one of the most important of my contacts – and heard the even more depressing news that I was the first to report the outage. As I write, it’s about 7:15 am, and the house is still discouragingly dark. Fortunately, I was able to boil water on the gas stove and make coffee with the pre-ground coffee I bring on trips to the city (the coffee grinder being out of commission) and make coffee in my trusty French press, which doesn’t care about the power or the lack of it.

Welcome to the first power outage of the season and the year!

Update, 10:00 am: Power (obviously) back on. Immediately washed dishes, filled Brita pitcher and kettle and other water-related activities. Fingers crossed it stays on. Thousands are without power in the Bay Area.

*After more than a year, the iPhone has failed to ruin my life or obsess me, as some people warned. Maybe this is due to the aforementioned lack of service in the county.** I recently updated the IOS and wish I hadn’t, since I dislike the Disneyfied cartoon look of the icons and the apparent impossibility of dismissing incoming calls, which is essential when you have two jobs. At least I can run the Secret app.

**The major complaint of tourists, followed by the curviness of the roads and the insane price of gas in the Village – about twice what it costs in the Big Town, ten minutes away.

The other day, I spent a lot of time on the phone. More than I was expecting, though I did get a lot done.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t sit still when I’m on the phone. I’m always pacing around, and the lengthy phone time gave me a chance to discover a few things in the garden. Care to come along?

I was really surprised to see this stealth orchid in bloom. It has never bloomed before, and it managed to escape the frost death meted out to the orchid which usually blooms every year.

This sneaky plant sent its flower spike between a pipe and the wall of the house, coming into bloom right under the electric meter. When it finishes blooming – months from now – I will move it out so I can see it better next year. And make sure to bring both orchids in during cold snaps.

Directly under the stealth orchid is this plant with purple flowers. It may be an African daisy. You’d think I hadn’t been introduced to my garden, since I know so few of the plants’ names! Maybe I should ask Lichen to get us reacquainted. Name tags may be required.

There are a couple of volunteer plants who have moved in. I have no idea how they got there, but I’m glad they did. There is a hyacinth under the Japanese maple:

It smells intoxicating and I love the color.

Some shy violets have moved in with a mystery plant that looks like some kind of succulent. They also smell wonderful and have a beautiful color:

The camellias are in bloom now:

I’m glad I got different colors, and can’t wait until they are big bushes like the one I had in Oakland. It will be great to have some color in the winter.

Camellias were Coco Chanel’s favorite flower, and a motif that often appeared in her designs. The house of Chanel has kept up the tradition, and I love the rain boots:

They’d be sort of practical for muddy, rainy Hooterville winters, right?

The dual time zone watch on the other hand…

Definitely not.

Open At Last!

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

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

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

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

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

I’m pretty sure it looked very different then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Megan finally took some much-needed time off. It seems that her staycations are never free of dog drama, but this one was much better than the last one, even though it did involve the Star Incident. Are dogs just naturally more dramatic than cats?

We took advantage of the unaccustomed time off to spend some quality girl time together. I shared my addiction to gel manicures* with her a long time ago, but our schedules rarely allow us to get our nails done at the same time, so it was really fun to go to the salon together. With our nails all shiny and sparkly, we went to the library to pick up this week’s batch of books, and then repaired to the local pizza parlor for a pre-movie dinner.

We sat at a cozy booth and shared a mini pizza, which was three slices each and made deliciously to order. After dinner, we made our way to the movie theater to see Dallas Buyers Club. Starring Matthew McConaughey, going back to his Texan roots, and Jared Leto, it tells the true story of a Dallas man who is blindsided by an AIDS diagnosis in 1985. McConaughey’s performance is powerful and riveting, driving the whole movie. You can’t take your eyes off him, except when he’s sharing the screen with his co-star. Jared Leto is heartbreakingly radiant in his vulnerability and beauty as a transgendered woman who partners with McConaughey in helping other AIDS patients in those dark days. These two deserve their Oscar nods, and if you haven’t seen the movie, you really should.

As we drove home – In the dark! On a school night**! – I thought of how lucky I am to have a sister who is also my best friend. Both the good things and the bad things are better with her there.

*It’s gel nail polish that goes on your real nails (not to be confused with scary, fake, toxic ones) and miraculously lasts three weeks or even longer, even when doing dishes or gardening. It’s like magic!

**I managed to get up after six hours of sleep and go to the pool for 7:30 the next morning, too. Can’t let a little thing like work get in the way of fun!

We did get a little more rain – a peek at the rain gauge shows about an inch, and a peek at the weekly paper shows about 13 inches for the season, which is half of what we had at the same time last year. The so called heavy rain predicted for yesterday never did come true.

I woke up to a chilly house this morning, which I knew meant it would be clear today, with the duvet of clouds removed, and so it is. The frogs are singing joyfully in their appreciation of the rain, which I love to hear.

I swept up a passel of feathers which had mysteriously appeared under the stairs, though there was no sign of their (former?) owner. How did that happen? When I went out to toss the feathers into the woods, I noticed that there are some signs of hope in the garden, despite the destruction of the frost and the drought.

The honeysuckle by the kitchen door is beginning to sprout little green leaves, sparkling with rain:

I cut back the Red Dragon plant outside the “front” door only to discover new leaves growing deep inside:

I cleared away the fallen pine needles, pine cones, and other debris to encourage the little leaves. The state of my usually cheerful geraniums was particularly depressing – black, rotted leaves and spongy stems – but apparently if the roots are healthy, they will come back in the spring. I hope so.

On my way back into the house, I noticed that the camellia bush is budding and should be flowering soon:

Here’s hoping for more rain, and more flowers!

It’s raining petals

We got about six inches of rain since I last checked in with you. It was wonderful to hear the rain pattering against the roof/walls in my little house. You could practically hear the garden saying “Aaahhh….”, even though it still looks pretty terrible*. The power even stayed on!

The kitties were less delighted than I was, coming home soaked to the skin with their fur all spiky, except, of course, for Audrey, who has the ability to come in out of the pouring rain with magically dry fur. Roscoe got bored with the rain and napped, whereas Clyde perched on the porch and watched the weather for a while before giving up and joining his brother in a rainy day snooze.

The dogs hated the rain even more than the cats. And Stella finds the rain even more objectionable than Star does, which I didn’t think was possible. Megan literally had to drag them outside. As far as they were concerned, the call of nature could stay on hold or go straight to voicemail. I still remember how Schatzi actually pretended to pee once when I was taking care of her one stormy winter night in San Francisco so that she could go back inside.

Unlike the cats, the dogs were bored out of their minds, while refusing to go outside and play. Megan took advantage of breaks in the downpour to take them out, but another storm is slated to move in tonight or tomorrow and last for a few days. I don’t think Star and Stella will greet the next downpour with the same enthusiasm as their Staff.

*Basically whatever the bitter cold snap didn’t ruin, the drought did. When the County is asking everyone to cut back on water usage by 20%, you can’t really justify watering your garden, no matter how sad it looks. I was planning to do more in the garden this year, but it looks like that will have to be on hold unless the weather changes dramatically.

The former hostage, relaxing at home

Being a dog parent, on the other hand…

Megan and Rob took Star with them to the city. She does get a bit bored on the drive home – don’t forget, it’s about four hours each way – and expresses this by yawning loudly and shifting around in the backseat so the Staff knows she’s discontented and that the chauffeur should step on it, traffic and twisty roads be damned.

She is pretty patient in general with the car, though, because she knows that for every stay in the Safeway parking lot, there is the potential for a walk or a visit with her BFF Harlow. And even if it really is all parking lots, she still gets to be with her pack, most importantly Megan.

Arriving in the City by the Bay, they could not find parking. The parking lots near the hospital were full, and the valet spoke just just enough English to refuse a car with a dog in it (and it’s more likely that Star would refuse a strange man getting in HER car anyway). I well remember the frustration of driving those one way streets in the city looking desperately for a parking space – the main reason for selling my Mustang convertible all those years ago.

Time ticked relentlessly toward Rob’s appointment with the neurosurgeon, and they finally found a parking space, locked Star in the car, and ran inside. The surgeon said that he could work on Rob’s pain with an injection into his spine, but apparently Science, however Neurological, has no cure for Rob’s spasming and ever more claw-like hands.

You’d think this would be the bad news of the day, but you’d be wrong.

Leaving the hospital, they walked to the car only to find it wasn’t there. Needless to say, neither was Star.

They then noticed the sign saying it was a tow away zone after 3:00. The appointment had been at 2:45. Megan’s amazing cab catching abilities swung into action as she managed to snag one, in rush hour on Nob Hill, no less. She and Rob jumped in and explained the situation to the sympathetic cab driver, who sped crazily through the city on his mission of mercy.

Arriving at the car jail, Megan was relieved to learn that Star was still in the car and not taken off to the pound, where she may or may not have been alive, partly due to her breed and partly due to her attitude toward strangers trying to haul her out of her car. Star was much calmer than her Staff at this point, and Megan persuaded the car jailers to let her rescue Star from the car while she went to get the ransom from the nearest bank.

Megan had texted me about it: (“My car was towed with Star inside! I am losing my mind!”) while I was in the Village dropping off some jobette materials. I called her and hadn’t heard her so upset in years. When I knew everything was OK, I picked up a bottle of wine for her before getting Stella from camp. Fortunately, I had already bought burritos for them to warm up for dinner when they got home, which ended up being around 9:00 pm rather than the expected 7:00 pm.

I’m sorry to say that the whole escapade cost a whopping $600 between the towing charges and the parking ticket and whatever else the Powers that Be could dream up. But the main thing is that Star is safe. I’m guessing that she’ll be joining Stella at camp the next time!

Daffodils in the Village

Being a dog aunt is pretty good. Much like being a human aunt, it’s all of the fun but none of the responsibility. Well, hardly any.

Today, for example, I picked up Stella and her many accessories (cozy bed; chew toys; kong stuffed with peanut butter and goodies; etc.) and took her to day camp near the Village. She was welcomed by a really nice guy who she took to at once. Stella is a big old flirt and loves male attention and flattery. As Wednesday and I drove off into the morning sunshine, her newest admirer was taking Stella for a walk. She was completely unconcerned by my departure, though I imagine she will be excited to see me this afternoon. Dogs’ total joy at seeing you even when they’ve seen you five minutes before must be one of the main reasons for having one. A daily ego boost! What’s not to love?

I will pick her up after work, take her for a walk in vain hopes of tiring her out (I wish I had half of her boundless energy) and then bring her home. Megan, Rob and Star are in San Francisco today for Rob’s neurosurgery consultation. It looks like there may be more surgery lurking on the horizon for my valiant brother in law.

In preparation for her stay at camp, we stopped in at Dr. Karen’s office last week to get proof of vaccinations. As Megan walked into the office, leaving Stella in the car, Stella took the opportunity to practice The Sad Eyes:

The Sad Eyes vanished as soon as Megan reappeared. After the vet’s, we took Stella for a walk on the headlands, where she was mesmerized by a hawk, wheeling low over the fields, and the timeless ocean waves. I have never seen a dog enjoy watching the ocean so much before.

Since we are all girls, we took the opportunity of window shopping in the Village:

It turns out that Stella is a well-known and well-loved visitor to the shops, including a jewelry shop and the book shop, where the staff greeted her by name and gave her a cookie or two. Stella basked in the attention and helped Megan to choose a book:

Sorry for the sun glare in the photo. I’m using my iPhone for pictures these days since I lent my camera to my brother to document his progress in digging a new well. I think I’m getting a little better at using it.

We had a good time shopping. I always have fun with my sister. And the dogs are just icing on the cake. I’m already looking forward to seeing Stella tonight.

I had a flashback to the months-long Hooterville bridge repair while driving home from the jobette one day this week. Traffic ground to a halt just before the steep curve leading to the resort which reopened with considerable fanfare last fall. This is one of my favorite parts of the drive, going around the intense curve with the sunlight filtering through the tall eucalyptus trees.

The halt stretched on, and I turned off the car. The car stereo doesn’t turn off when you turn the car off, so I opened and closed the door to make it turn off. The manual is on a DVD and needless to say, I haven’t bothered to drag my MacBook out to the car and figure out how to set the clock (if there is one) and/or turn it off by hand. It starts up again when I start up the car. Yes, Wednesday is too fancy for me.

We finally got going again after 20 minutes. The poor guy in front of me actually turned into the resort! He could have walked there and back ten times in the length of time we were stuck there. I’m still not sure what CalTrans was doing, but it looked like they were lopping off some eucalyptus branches.

The next day, I left work early to head to Elk, where I was commissioned to pick up something left behind in a hotel room by a New York Times writer, who was here for the Crab festival. We were finally getting some rain (we ended up with almost 3/4 inch in the rain gauge, though we are back to sunshine today), so I drove extra carefully. The ocean was so beautiful in its shades of pale aqua and stormy grey, with frenzied white waves. Sometimes it’s really hard not to look at the ocean while you’re driving around here.

I arrived at the inn. A sign on the door said that the innkeeper was either assisting a guest or had stepped away. Hmmm. The thought of standing out in the deserted parking lot in the rain wasn’t exactly appealing. I decided to head to Anchor Bay to get some Thai food dinner and then try again on my way back.

In my usual fashion, I had forgotten/underestimated how far it was. I kept thinking it was right around every curve for miles. Finally, it was, and after I ordered, I texted my boss to let her know of the hotel problem (cell and internet service being unavailable on the south coast). She texted back to check the back door of the inn. As I left the restaurant, I noticed a sign saying that they’d be closed from February 10 to March 18, so it’s just as well I made my way there after all.

Back at the hotel, I went around the back, accompanied by an Audrey looking cat, who in an Audrey like fashion started scratching at one of the two doors. I knocked at it and eventually a ponytailed guy in a Grateful Dead shirt appeared. The cat scampered in and I explained my mission. He brought me over to the neigboring restaurant, which was as closed as it had been earier that day. Then we went to the house next to it. He knocked to no avail and then rang the buzzer. Someone answered, but with the tinnynesss of the intercom and the whizzing by of logging trucks on the rainy highway, it sounded to me like the Charlie Brown grown ups.

Mr. Dead understood, though, since he headed back to the restaurant and knocked on a back door, unearthing another guy who went and got the writer’s bag. Whew.

I was really glad to finally see Hooterville. Later I added it up and estimated that I drove more than 150 miles that day. How’s that for extreme take-out?

Stella enjoys the view

My valiant sister picked up an unwelcome hitchhiker on her last night shift in the ER: the Bug From Hell. The same one that rendered me snotty and sweaty and generally miserable for nearly two weeks. Being considerably smarter than her aged sibling, however, she got a prescription for Tamiflu called in to the pharmacy and also armed herself with zinc and other flu fighting equipment.

I learned all this between my many fourth quarter calls, and fortunately had a couple of hours at my disposal to go and pick up the pills and almost more importantly, walk Stella. As Megan observed, no matter how sick you are, you don’t get a day off from dog walking.

I loaded Stella into Megan’s car (I am trying to preserve Wednesday’s fancy leather interior as long as I can) and set off for the Village. As usual, it was a beautiful day with no sweater or jacket required. I am beginning to wonder if we are ever going to get some rain.

I soon learned that driving with Stella is, uh, challenging. At any moment, she may decide to lick you, and she loves to lean against you. She is a pretty strong dog and it made it hard to navigate the curves. As I drove across the long arc of the Big River bridge, the car suddenly slowed dramatically and started making disturbing noises. It turned out that Stella had shifted the car into neutral, unbeknownst to me and to the annoyance of the motorists behind me. So I was more prepared when it happened as we drove down Main Street and able to fix it faster.

We walked along the headlands, where Stella wanted to meet every single dog and person we passed – as I mentioned before, there are no strangers in Stella World, just friends she hasn’t met yet. She made a slightly embarrassing scene in front of a group of little old Asian ladies, who were visibly horrified despite my best efforts. Stella was tangled up in the leash – she has an epic ability to get tangled up in the leash – and was also enjoying her favorite hobby, chewing the leash, at the same time.

Stella is a rather chatty dog, so she was making alarming noises while attempting to eat Megan’s lovely leather leash. It was pretty hard to get it out of her mouth and then untangle her as the little old ladies scurried away in horror, no doubt to report on the girl eating pit bull they had seen in the middle of this lovely landscape.

They probably wouldn’t have recognized Stella a few minutes later, when she sat peacefully watching the ocean. She really loves watching the waves. It was high tide, and the sea spray flew up high enough to wet us both on the headlands. We both enjoyed the seascape for a while before heading to the pharmacy and picking up juice and other Bug defying supplies.

When we were about a quarter mile from home, she curled up on the passenger seat like a dream dog.

*Imagine the Brando voice.

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

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

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

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

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

Care to join us?

While people back East are getting covered in snow and dreading the return of the Polar Vortex’s evil twin (and if I wish I’d never heard of it, I can just imagine how they feel), we are having clear, starry nights flooded with moonshine, the temperature about one or two Celsius degrees, and days that get close to the 20 degree mark on the C scale. At some point in the morning, I open the doors, letting in fresh air and temporarily freeing me from being the cat doorman. They don’t make me wear a uniform, but they don’t tip, either. Maybe it’s the lack of pockets in their fur coats.

January these days is a lot more like Junuary, so in celebration, I cleared my schedule and headed to Big River with Megan and Stella on Friday. As you can see, it was a beautiful day:

We didn’t even need jackets or sweaters! Bare arms in January still seems very strange to me. Stella was wearing her bright orange “Adopt Me” vest, along with a big smile:

The gate leading to the road beside the river was open for the first time I can remember. Usually, we have to take a little dirt path, scented with wild fennel, beside the big metal gate. The gate was open because the Parks workers were repairing the road. One of the Parks guys was there to warn us about the giant trucks. Stella jumped on him for joy and kissed him. There are no strangers as far as Stella is concerned – just friends she hasn’t met yet. Unlike most girls, she enjoyed every drop of attention she got from the construction workers. And she got a lot.

She was completely unperturbed by the huge, loud trucks and people whizzing past on their bikes, and her only complaint about other dogs was not being allowed to play with all of them. Stella is taking the Canine Good Citizenship Class which Star passed a couple of years ago, so Megan is working hard on training Stella for her new home. Apparently Stella’s former guardians neglected to teach her minor things like coming when called, not to eat food from tables, and not to chew things like iPod connector cables and seat belts in the car. Or Schatzi’s old dish. No one can use that mangled piece of plastic now, at least not as a dish.

Other than some leafless trees, you would never know it was winter. The grass is still “golden” and the streams are low. I know pampas grass is a pest, but it was so pretty in the sunlight:

And the Village, where both residents and businesses alike are beginning to have water delivered, looked like a postcard:

In the evening, we sat by the fire at Megan’s house and had mojitos while watching “Legally Blonde” (I’m sorry, I love that movie) and listening to the dogs snoring happily.

It was a great day. So much more fun than work!

Who, Me?

The other day, I was driving home from the jobette, thinking great thoughts, as I tend to do in the shower and in the car. Or what passes for great thoughts when you only have two brain cells, both underachievers, and the inside of your mind looks like Miss Havisham’s attic. Or this lady’s place.

One thing about keeping track of the magic moments in my life last year is that it really taught me to appreciate the little things, like the sun setting in my rear view mirror (not that I can see it, with Wednesday’s dramatic after-market tan. So non Goth. It’s gotta go) and the golden afternoon light on the long and winding road that leads (eventually) to my door. On this particular evening, I was thinking about how Gene Clark of the Byrds, who lived right here in Hooterville on the same road as Lichen, drove this very road, and how if he could see it today, it would look exactly the same as he remembered it. The Little River Inn, where both Gene and I have enjoyed the view and the bar, is the same, too. It’s kind of cool to think that we have this in common. And that things change slowly in this neck of the woods.

I also remembered the long days Megan and I spent looking for our beloved Schatzi last summer on this road, and how she is probably resting somewhere we drive past every day, peacefully and I am pretty sure undisturbed. It took a long time before I stopped looking for her as I drove down the Ridge, and it took Megan even longer. Guess The Schatz out stubborned us all one last time.

I was thinking about the Saturday afternoon I was driving home from the jobette and came across Megan’s car parked by Lichen’s road. I pulled over and saw Megan, desperately seeking Schatzi. She and our friends Dave and Jennifer had spent the day combing the area. As I was thinking about this, I came around the same corner and…saw my sister’s car parked in the very same place.

I had a horrifying feeling of déjà vu and also “Little did Suzy realize she had entered…the Twilight Zone*”. I pulled over and once again saw my sister heading toward me. Once again, she was dogless. In this case, Stella the foster dog had wandered off the family property, where the boys were supposed to be baby sitting her. Megan was in her work scrubs and clearly just out of the shower, and didn’t have much time before she was due at the ER for her twelve hour night shift.

The boys were looking near the property, and Megan commissioned me to head back down to the store, which is the Hooterville equivalent of alerting the media, while she looked and called. At least this time we were looking for a dog who could hear, though one who is a little unclear on the concept of coming when called.

Wednesday and I had gone a mile or two when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I hit the microphone button on the car console, but the call dropped – cell service, or the lack of it, is one of the major tourist complaints – so I pulled into the fire station. I saw the call was from Megan, so I headed back, thinking that I could go to the store later if she wasn’t calling me with good news.

She was. While calling for Stella, the grandson of the guy who owns the store came out and asked if she was looking for a dog. It turned out that Stella had sneaked away from her babysitters and found a house with other dogs, where she spent the next hour or so happily playing with her new friends, trying to get in the house, and trying to get a snack.

Megan bundled her into the car, took her home, and then went to work, undoubtedly wishing she could have a drink instead. I’m glad that all’s well that ended well.

*Fun fact: Rod Serling and I were both born in Syracuse, New York.

Newsflash! I’m still blowing my nose about 500 times a day at a conservative estimate. Maybe you should just assume that I’m a snot monster until you hear otherwise.

~Sniffle~

Ironically, I went to the clinic yesterday for a check-up having nothing to do with my actual illness. It was just a routine check up. I had originally scheduled it for a couple of weeks ago at 8:00 am, when I would have been the first patient and I would have had a fighting chance of getting to work on time at 9:00. Of course, the clinic called to reschedule it for 11:30 today, making sure I’d have to take at least one unpaid hour off from work.

As usual, I waited for more than an hour and saw Dr. Sue for about 10 minutes. Poor Dr. Sue was totally overwhelmed with fellow flu sufferers. I don’t know how she works such long hours with sick people and is still so nice. She actually apologized for my waiting in a room full of germs. 🙂 In case you were wondering, I am perfect as always, other than the seemingly endless sniffles.

I ran into my brother in the waiting room. He was getting some paperwork done for continuing to be a fire fighter, and his next stop was the DMV for more fire fighting related bureaucracy, always fun after working a 48 hour shift.

I paid my usual $50 for the check up. I still haven’t availed myself of “affordable” healthcare. I need to research it more, but it appears that I will either have to pay $200 a month, which has a $4,000 deductible and requires $75 for a doctor visit, or $400 a month for a lower deductible and co pay. If I understand my insurance-ese correctly – and I should after the whole Miss Scarlett débâcle – this means that I will be paying $200 a month for nothing, since it will not go toward the massive $4,000 deductible, which will have to be met before any benefits kick in. This doesn’t strike me as exactly affordable.

Cuddling Cats

Yesterday, I woke up to the delightful and unfamiliar sound of rain on my curved roof. I knew it wasn’t enough to banish the drought which was recently declared in our County, but I enjoyed the sound. We got half an inch, but now we’re back to sunny skies (or clear, or fair – what’s the difference?) with a faint chance of rain on Friday at the earliest.

As for me, I’m better, but still tired, coughing, and using enough Kleenex to make me wish I’d bought stock in the company. Is it insider trading if you know you’ll be using the product by the gross for an extended period of time? Come to think of it, that’s probably the definition of insider trading.

Anyway, I’m sick of being sick and disappointed that I’m not completely better after more than a week. Of course, I’m still well enough to work, just not to do anything fun. Megan and I were planning to see a live broadcast of the National Theatre’s production of “Frankenstein” at the beautiful Arena Theater on Saturday, but we both reluctantly agreed that I wasn’t well enough. I really wanted to see it – it stars the delightfully named Benedict Cumberbatch, also the shining star of the BBC’s stellar series Sherlock* – not to mention the proximity of Franny’s of the magic coffee and cuteness.

But cooler heads prevailed, and I ended up watching the trashy soap operatics of Reign** (picture an even less historically accurate The Tudors crossed with the frothy, costumed delights of Gossip Girl) with the cats. Above you can see a non-great picture I took with my iPhone***. That’s Roscoe in the back. The boys hardly ever cuddle, so it was a nice treat.

*It’s finally back! And I’m not the only one who’s excited.

**Which has yet to ruin my life.

I started the new year with a new Me! A sick Me! Not an improvement over the old Me.

I get sick so rarely that when I do, I am sort of offended, disappointed that my vintage body is letting me down. I should probably get used to that instead of experiencing the usual dismay and consternation. I am convinced that I picked up this flu in the mall, where I made an unaccustomed visit during my most recent Bay Area trip.

I am now completely unused to malls, and when I go into one, I am immediately overwhelmed and appalled by the tidal waves of perfumes and people. My mind also immediately goes on hold and I forget why I’m there, gazing around me in a daze at how huge the place is and how packed with people and stuff. How is this possible? What did I want to buy? What’s that thing?

At the Whole Foods, I nearly lost what little is left of my mind while trying to buy something for dinner. You’d think it would be pretty simple to just take a number and order some food to go, but it was a free for all in the style of an Italian bank. I was practically whimpering by the time I got out of there. I think it’s fair to say that the bumpkinization process is now complete.

I hadn’t realized that a flu bug hitched a ride home with me until last Friday, when I began to suspect that something was wrong. On Saturday, I woke up with chills, fever, achiness, coughing, etc. and emailed my boss at the jobette to say I wouldn’t be in on Monday. Later I extended it to Tuesday, and although I’m at the jobette today, I still feel under the weather.

Speaking of weather: I woke up to a sprinkle of welcome rain. Just enough to make the road slippery and ruin one’s hairdo, but not enough to help the drought. My county just declared a state of emergency. I guess it’s better than the extreme cold and snow people have been facing back East, but it’s scary nonetheless. Here’s hoping both health and weather improve soon!

For a change, I was in the Bay Area for a party instead of for work.

My boss/partner’s wife, Jacci, celebrated her 50th birthday in style! I kind of wish I had made more of a fuss about hitting my own half century than I did.

Jacci manages a lovely hotel, and held her celebration there. Every table was decorated with a picture of Jacci, a golden shoe, and a champagne glass with “Jacci is fabulously fifty” on them:

There was an elegant dinner served by waiters, a guest book, and a beautiful cake:

There was also a reggae band, a nod to Jacci’s Jamaican homeland, and a DJ after the band packed up for the night. Here you see the happy couple dancing the night away:

I was shocked to learn that their oldest child is now 28 and the youngest 17. I remember when the youngest was a newborn baby! And there she was, tall and beautiful, rocking stiletto heels and long braids. I really should have unearthed my one and only pair of Manolo Blahniks for the occasion. The shoes in that room were incredible.

After Jacci blew out the candles on her cake and we sang Happy Birthday, Adrian gave a beautiful speech which moved me to tears. I was especially honored that he mentioned me in it and our long friendship. It was a wonderful way to end the year.

Clyde helps me to unpack

I’m back in Hooterville. I came home on New Year’s Eve, and for the first time I can remember in my many years of driving across the Golden Gate Bridge, traffic was completely backed up on the northbound (leaving San Francisco) side. Later, I saw three CHP cars, but no accident or stopped car or other reason for the slowness.

As I edged past the now empty toll booths, I thought about the time I didn’t have the two dollars for the toll, and had to pull into the office’s parking lot in my Mustang convertible and write a check. Good thing I had my checkbook with me – I never carry it now. And I remembered when there were actual people in the booths collecting our tolls (now $6), and the time I was totally delighted by the woman blasting music in her booth, dancing and singing along.

Once over the Bridge, traffic speeded up and Wednesday and I had no more delays. I stopped in Philo and picked up fresh crab – it’s Dungeness crab season – bread, and salad for dinner. The sun was just dipping into the Pacific as I reached Hooterville. I think I passed Megan on the Ridge, on her way to the drunk tank and maggot emporium that is the ER on New Year’s Eve.

I unpacked the car, though not the suitcase, and settled down with champagne and crab to watch “Downton Abbey” and say farewell to the old year. The new year began with coffee and the Winter Classic, which I love. It’s so fun to see hockey played outside, and the goalies even wore pads that looked like the old school ones (undoubtedly they were grateful that the similarity stopped there, since they used to be made out of leather, soaked up all the water from the ice, and were unspeakably heavy). Also it’s much easier to enjoy the romance of the falling snow from the comfort of your sunny California living room, rather than being one of the 105,000 fans in the single digit cold (not including wind chill) or one of the players on the often shoveled ice.

Still, it was a wonderful event and I am pleased to report that the Toronto Maple Leafs won over the Detroit Red Wings in a shoot out, giving them two much needed points. A good way to start the year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s what happened to our heroine this year:

January:

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

February:

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

March:

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

April:

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

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

May:

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

June:

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

July:

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

August:

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

September:

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

October:

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

November:

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

December:

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

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

Sunny Christmas Morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later, she and Jonathan took turns:

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

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