And a VERY merry one it was!

So, with this year's candy-making, the real fun was "snow peeps". Remember Peeps, marshmallow Easter candy?
Well, I found a recipe for same and decided to make snowmen, aka snow peeps, they were a major effort, but I understand my grandkids enjoyed them. So, worth it, right?
I couldn't put this up until after they got them.


Then Sarah, Scottie's youngest, and Bobby, the son-out-law, arrived on 12/26 to spend a couple of days. The 27th was the second annual McArthur Christmas party. I really wanted pics from it and even had hopes of a decent photo of Scottie and I together. No such luck 'cuz the party was well attended and so darned much fun that I never took even one picture.

Both Buck and Cocoa spent the evening being party dogs - simply refusing to leave the fun and food - so they've been total slugs today. Buck got a little advance slug practice the day before the party snuggling up with Sarah who has described him as Buck the Body Pillow. Yep.



All in all it's been a great Christmas. Now it's time to take it all apart, plant the living tree and move on to 2009!

HO HO HO

We've had just the best Christmas!

It's not that it's been elaborate, just that it's been really, really nice. All sorts of little pieces of magic have come our way - from a beautiful Guamanian screen given to us by a new friend to meeting a young woman from Illinois, to the sweet and gentle Christmas morning we had right here in River City (that would be Three Rivers, CA, in case you didn't know) and the crying my eyes out at Marley and Me.

I've promised my daughter more photos of myself - something I resist 'cuz I don't photograph well. Here I am Christmas morning, happy and warm in a brand new sweater.



How to tell Scottie's favorite gift? Well, the fact that I couldn't get the biking sunglasses off him might be a clue. It was "take my picture in my new shirt (with my glasses)." " Take my picture with my new saw (and my glasses)." And so on and so forth. He does photograph well.


About that screen:

This is it. Given to us by a lady who we met when we went to buy a cement mixer. That's right - given to us.

Today Sarah and Bobby arrive from San Diego, and tomorrow we have a party - - it's not over yet!

Christmas Time

Finally got the spirit and decided to decorate for Christmas!

Normally there is a big clock surrounded by a BIG frame above our fireplace. I took the clock down and turned the frame, which is about 2' x 3', into a big wreath of sorts with the 2 mercury glass acorns in the middle.



And, I decided that this year the crystal forest should sit in "snow", aka batting. The crystal forest is pretty much my favorite part of decorating each year.


Above the forest (and on both sides of the mantle) are manzanita branches, these decorated with a few ornaments.


The view from the front door toward the fireplace pleases me!


All that's left to do is bring in the live tree a few days before Christmas and decorate that.

Ta-da-da-da-DA! I'm likin' it.

Rocks and Lichen and Moss - Oh My!!

OK, bear with me here.

Are there things that make you cry or at least tear up simply because they are so incredibly beautiful, or maybe because you are truly awestruck? Well, I can get that way about rocks. That's right, I said rocks.

I've been wanting landscape rocks for the front of our place to divide the driveway area from the little tiny front lawn and the house. It has felt to me like the driveway just runs into the house, especially since the driveway comes downhill from the road.

So, Fred Lowe, rock guy supreme, had promised me rocks some time ago; but here's the deal: You wait for Fred or you get someone else, and getting someone else is not the good choice. So, finally Fred had a bigger job that put him working on the property right next to ours and the time was ripe for me to get my rocks.

Fred showed up on Monday with the first of the rocks. Note the rock to the left and the strap around it. Fred came down the road and down our steep driveway with that rock danging from his bucket! Amazing.



Buck and Cocoa had to check each rock after it was dropped off - and more about this rock later. The pups seemed to need to be sure that no dangerous things were coming in with the rocks.


So, Monday night there we are with big ole rocks sitting at the end of the driveway.


On Tuesday I had to go get a hair cut and run errands. When I came home, Fred had finished setting the rocks. Each is in place and partially buried in the ground looking like they've been there forever! (Near us is a house where someone else did the rock work. A bunch of big rocks were dumped willy-nilly on top of their grass, not sunk in, not arranged at all and just look wierd. Big rocks don't just sit on the ground. They sink in.)

Each of the four rocks has moss and each has lichen. I cried. Really.


The rock the puppers were checking out earlier has reindeer moss! This very special moss blooms or grown "antlers". How special is that?

One rock has a little piece of yellow lichen. It's pretty darned rare around here!

That same rock has orange lichen too, along with the white-ish lichen that is more common and is on all the rocks!



Fred calls these kinds of rocks living rocks, and I have to agree. There is life in each of these as well as the amazing history of the Sierra Nevada.

So, some folks brake for garage sales; I cry for rocks.

I SURVIVED THE CLEANSE!

It was touch and go for a couple of days, but I made it. Over a week without solid food and surviving on a mixture of water, cayenne pepper, fresh lemon juice and maple syrup does strange things to one's system. The best part is what it's done for my skin. But, I'm really glad it's over and glad to find I'm not at all craving junk food!

This is my succulent wreath grown in and with a bow added to make it a Christmas wreath. Worked out pretty well.


After several days of clouds and fog we got a sunny and warm afternoon. Both dogs decided to sun bathe. This is not their usual outdoor guard duty when they station themselves in different spots and watch over us. Rarely do they lie down together, especially outside, but this is where the sunshine was. Funny dogs.



December weather like this with days in the mid-60's and nights in either the upper 30's or low to mid-40's are what brought me from the mid-west to California in the first place. We'll get our cold weather in January and February, usually with rain, but very infrequently snow. Go up just a few hundred feet in elevation though and you'll find lots of snow. I'm hoping for a chance to go snowshoeing this winter.

It's beginning to look a lot like. . . well, you know.

Red Shoulder Hawks

Yesterday I heard a hawk calling - that would be the one who seems to have declared all the birds who hang out at our feeders to be his personal feeding ground - and decided to go take photos.

The murderer had positioned himself on top of a power pole and kept up his shrill keee, keee, keee even as I walked closer and closer. Reason? He was calling in his mate! I suppose the two had a dinner date.

Anyway, these are Red Shoulder Hawks, supposed to feed on small mammals like mice and voles, who have taken to grabbing a bird here and there. Not nice!




So, the mate showed up:


They got tired of my photo adventure and flew to an oak tree that sits below our house:



Scottie brought out the spotting scope and we were able to get a much better view of the one who hung around. I decided to experiment with taking photos by putting my little camera up to the eye piece of the scope:


This was an interesting experiment! It's hard to know, well it's impossible to know, what you are going to get. A light touch to the scope causes it to move and you end up with half a bird. You can't see through the camera what you are going to get and "point and shoot" takes on new meaning. And, without shielding the light somehow, you get strange effects:



As soon as my book sells I'm going to be my own fairy godmother and buy a really good digital camera with different lenses. My little Nikon, while I love it, can't get the shots I often want.

I have to send this on to Doc Hannan for any comments on bird-taking Red Shoulders. Watch this space for his reply.

FORGET LONDON TOWN!

We have all the fog you could possibly want in Three Rivers!

I've always loved fog - find it to be beautiful, ethereal, mystical - and this is the time of year to enjoy it.
Where we sit, above the San Joaquin Valley in California, we are usually above the fog (and wouldn't that be a great name for an art exhibit or a book - above the fog) but there are days when the fog reaches us or even travels above up into the mountains.

Today the fog is above us. This view is up toward Eagle's Nest.


Yesterday the fog level stopped just below us. These two photos were taken from our yard looking down-river:



Because the fog is a function of warm vs cold air plus moisture there is usually a "fog line" where the fog begins or ends abruptly. For us it is generally below us. We'll often drive down toward Visalia and not encounter fog until after Kaweah Lake. But, as occasionally occurs, the last couple of days have seen the fog moving upward.

In the Valley this time of year, fog is a major issue for drivers. Sometimes visibility is essentially nil. Route 99 from Bakersfield to Fresno will see multi-car pile-ups. The CHP has declared a policy that when visibility falls below 500' they will lead cars with a police car as the "pilot car". Of course that wouldn't be necessary if people would drive within the range of their visibility, but that can't be counted on. So, while I go out to walk dogs up around Mineral King Road and just thoroughly love the fog, I have to remember that it also represents danger.

Years ago, while living in San Diego, I went out to the Cuyamaca's to hike alone (I know, it isn't supposed to be safe) on a foggy day that became progressively more foggy. Only because I was on a very well marked trail that I'd hiked numerous times before could I even stay on my route. It was absolutely mystical! It seemed as if the fog actually moved through my body rather than me moving through it. Things would suddenly appear in front of me - a tree, a rock, a stream - that had been completely hidden from view until I was literally on top of them. And, when I finished my hike, I was wet to the skin from the heavy moisture of the fog. It may not have been my most intelligent hiking alone experience, but it was the most beautiful!

Turkey Day Travel

I'm calling this Gumpy's Girls. That would be Sarah, youngest daughter; Halle, granddaughter; and Amanda, oldest daughter and mom to Halle.



We made a last minute decision Thursday morning for Scottie to drive to San Diego for the Thanksgiving celebration at his daughter Sarah's home. I'd been telling Scottie to go and let me stay home with pets, but the sweetie didn't want to leave me alone.

But, you see, the thing is I don't care about Thanksgiving. As a life-long vegetarian the whole dead bird thing grosses me out, and the requirement of getting family together as opposed to a choice. . . . well, it's not something I do easily.

So that morning when Scottie talked to his oldest daughter Amanda and his Dad on the phone, I could tell he was getting teary-eyed at the prospect of missing the family get together and sensed a weakening of his resolve to stay home. Sure enough he agreed that he really wanted to go. Traffic around LA was so bad it added an hour and a half to his drive, but he still made it in time for dinner and had a blast surprising all those who'd been being told we weren't coming.


This is Uncle Dougie and cousin Bruce along with John, the long-time significant other to Scottie's ex. Dougie at 90 is very frail, and Bruce is an absolute gem to see that he gets to all the family events.


John and grandson Declan. Deckles doesn't look thrilled. Don't know why.

Brother-in-law Don, Grandpa Hughie, and sister Susie, all very photogenic.


Sarah, Amanda, Scottie's ex Sally, and Susie. All standing in the brand new kitchen at Sarah's house, designed and installed by Bobby.


I stayed home, put together a couple of veggie dishes and ventured across the road to friend Judy's home where it was just one of his sisters and brothers-in-law. Just four is much easier on my nerves.

On Friday the San Diego contingent did the zoo, then Nati's for dinner - our favorite Mexican dive restaurant - then Scottie left at 3 AM, REALLY, was home by 8:30, rested for all of half an hour, took the recycling stuff to the recycler, and then we went for a nice bike ride. The man has ridiculous amounts of energy!

Weathering

Gray skies, wet ground, droopy trees,
all bearing witness to the rain that fell here last night.
The sense is sad, melancholy, even heavy
as if not just rain fell from the sky.
Dreams perhaps.
Shattered upon landing.
Broken into a million tiny shards,
too tiny, too fractured to ever be repaired.
Will I walk the dogs today?
Likely not.
This is the kind of day
that finds me wanting to curl up by a fireplace
with a good book or a catalog
to dream new dreams.
To buy this, make that, go there.
Restorative dreams.
I need days like this this,
days when I can shift gears,
move into a new vision of my life,
find a way to fit the me that is
into the possibility of a me that could be
somehow greater.
Smarter, maybe. Or kinder.
Not some silly pop-psychology new me
but the old me improved.
Finding a rough corner that could be
gently sanded
so as not to cut so deeply
into the hearts of others.
Or perhaps a mental limp
repaired
with new mental muscle
built around it
that I might not lean so
in one direction or another.
Stability.
Not huge, dramatic changes.
No LOSE 20 POUNDS IN TWO WEEKS
claim.
Not LEARN HOW TO SELL ANYTHING
TO ANYONE IN SIX EASY LESSONS.
No, not those.
Quieter changes, more subtle.
Perhaps none but me will notice.
But after many of these
gray-toned days,
decades of them now,
the me that is emerging is somehow
both stronger and softer.
And if I could show you
the girl of twenty-five,
brash and brittle,
heedless and often thoughtless,
then you'd see.
She did change you'd say.
A BRAND NEW PERSON IN
FOUR EASY - DECADES.
Not lessons or weeks of course.
These are not the changes that come
with either speed or ease.
Like last night's rain
gently wearing away rock
in such slow and tiny increments
that none will notice
the change taking place before them.
Inevitable, these changes;
and so much gentler when one
has learned to let them be.
It's a gray day, heavy even.

Can it REALLY be???

Almost the end of November? Really?

I'm finally recuperating a bit after the workshop last weekend. Doing two sessions in one day really took the starch out of me, but it was a very good financial result for the Arts Alliance.

My own two wreaths that I made for samples are being put to use. The one with succulents is attached to one of the very old wooden wheels by our entry door. It has to come down for watering, but I like it in this location.




The other, made with spider plant and coleus and planted front and back, was meant to hang in a window like this:

I'm finding though that I don't like how much dirt and moss falls to the window sill. The only reasonable window in our house is in the back hallway which is a travel zone - just to the right of the back door and the hangers for jackets, etc., and just to the left of the dog door - so it gets bumped and jostled. Consequently I'm thinking maybe I'll let the back die off and use it as a table center piece for Christmas. It will be fuller and fluffier by then. Hmmmm.




Letting sleeping dogs lie. . . well, this is part of my morning routine. Whichever dog gets to my studio first curls up next to me. This time it was Buck. So, Cocoa got the pillows at the other end.


Outside both dogs have places they like to station themselves for guarding. For some reason Buck has adopted a new spot on the bank near the propane tank. That's a very recent development, following a couple of incidents of a bear in the garbage and much smelling by both dogs in this vicinity. Guess it now needs guarding.


My big job for the day? I'm going to finally go through all the stuff I accumulated while getting ideas for this house. I have notebooks full. Really. Finally I've come to understand that if we ever move and build again I'll want to start over anyway. So, out it goes.

I'm one of those people. You know the ones. Can't seem to live without a project, preferably several, going on at all times. Mine lately have all been about landscaping. Time though to start on the project for this year's Sofa Art show. This time it's Sofa Art goes Vegas. Should be fun.

Beneath the Oaks & Beside the River

Saturday was a fantastically fun day and a very, very tiring day.

I led a workshop on behalf of the Arts Alliance to demo making living wreaths. We were fortunate enough to get permission from the local coffee shop, The Buckeroo, to hold it in the outdoor area next to the river, and Nature cooperated by giving us a sunny and unseasonably warm day with temps rising into the 70's by mid-afternoon.
One major glitch - with an entire pickup truck load of materials the wreath forms were missing. Did I forget to pick them up? Did I lose them while cleaning out the storage shed? Don't know. But at the last minute, I had to make a run to the hardware store for wire cutters and chicken wire and workshop participants also learned how to make their own form. Surprisingly, no one complained and all had fun.

This group lives down in the valley and drove up to the foothills for the workshop. All are either related or work together. The little girls on Mom's lap, McKenna, is only 4 and became my "helper" for the day earning a whole $2 at the end of her efforts. You can get an idea of the wonderful setting beneath big oaks and right at the river's edge.


These two, who decided to make things other than wreaths including little pots of plants and mud balls of plants. I'm asked to bring the workshop to the February birthday party of one of them. She and her mother have asked for a "green" theme and decided on the spot that this would be a fun thing to do. Cool.


At one point, wrapping fishing line to secure the wreath, four hands are better than two. I loved how all the adults, even those with manicures, dug in and had fun playing in the dirt!


And, I wasn't going to include this picture 'cuz I hate the expression on my face - somewhere between words and giggle - but since I rarely have photos of myself on here, I decided to include it. The Buckeroo has a little stage where they occasionally have outdoor music. It made the perfect spot for demo with everyone able to see and hear.


All the photos are from the morning session. By the time the afternoon session was over yours truly was completely exhausted. I still had to clean up and load everything back into the truck. But, the truck DID NOT get unloaded until the next morning.

Newly added to my wish list: A small barn on our lot where I can do this once a month as a business - called Second Saturdays - and also work on making garden stuff, recycled art, whatever. If you know anyone giving away barns, let me know.

Ancestry

My granddaughter is doing a school paper on her family tree and called for a bit of info. Set me to thinking. Obama is a self-described "mutt", and I'd guess I'm similar - but different, as are all mutts. We don't have those long, serious pedigrees or numbers after our names. No two of us are ever the same. I like that.

Given that my biological father was killed in an accident a few months before I was born, I have very, very little info about that side of my family. Thanks to my older brother I was able to give the granddaughter the names of his parents (funny, I don't think grandparents), but it ended there. That group of people, while related by blood, was never my family. And, the man I've always called my Dad, and will always feel that way about, was never a blood relative. So he doesn't fit into a family tree. Doesn't quite feel right.

Makes me think of gardening. I go to the nursery in the spring and buy a six pack or flat of little plants. I don't know who started them, put that seed into soil, but without that no flowers or veggies would follow. Equally important though is the gardener, or in Dad's case farmer, who tends and fertilizes and trims when needed. Without that, what would we have? Weeds perhaps or maybe overgrown plants that flower but fail to fruit.

And me? Well, if I was a plant it would be one of those that comes with a warning - maybe "can be invasive" or "difficult to establish" certainly not one of those labeled "easy to grow." So that Dad who doesn't fit on the family tree had all the hard work. I think at least there should be a side branch labeled perhaps "Family of Choice" or some other title that would convey that without this individual the sprouts might never have reached maturity or might have yielded only cracked or bitter fruit. (Yes, I know some would say "cracked" is still appropriate.)

So, though he's long gone from this world, thanks to DAD, the only one I ever knew. I know I didn't make it easy. I think it was Erma Bombeck who wrote a column about step-parents that ended with a wonderful statement something like I have a step parent; I've just forgotten which one.

Birthday Bashing

Where to start?
Well, I took the bus fromVisalia to San Diego on Monday so I could spend some time with my father-in-law and give him his shots of blood thinner for a few days. He's doing great! Then Scottie drove down Friday so we could celebrate his 70th birthday. A photo montage:

Dougie, my uncle-in-law and Hughie's baby brother. I think he's about 92 or so. Not sure. He's had some health issues but still loves a party!


Cousin Bruce, Dougie's youngest son. Bruce drives a race car for fun when he's not doing some sort of stupefyingly brilliant stuff for work, and he took me for a ride - in the dark - in the city - FAST. I managed to return with dry pants, but barely.


Bobby, the son-out-law and Foxy, the grand-pup. Both kinda cute!


The birthday boy - in no way does he look SEVENTY! Oh, and that would be me with him.


Grandpa Hughie, all 97 years and going strong and Jimmy B, Scottie's oldest and dearest friend. Two of my favorite men!


And the boys. . . I wonder how many photos of these two together have been taken over all the decades since the met as third or fourth graders. Want to start an argument? Ask who ate the last hot dog on the eons ago camping trip. Each still blames the other.


Sara, youngest daughter and fourth-generation San Diegan, presents the icecream cake. It's a tradition.

Yep, I think he had fun!

When it ALL hits the Fan

Let's see, it will be a week tomorrow that Scottie got home from two weeks in San Diego. The schedule was that we'd return to SD next Friday to celebrate his birthday with family and friends. He's waiting for news on his Park job. He's supposed to do a small handy-guy job for our old landlady. And, he's hard at work on the roof/shingling of my garden storage shed to have that done before we leave since we should be heading into rainy season.


I have to give this man of mine credit: he's got the roofing thing down! OK, he's not fast; but it looks good.


But, yesterday, the kitchen faucet sprung a leak. We've got stuff pulled out from under the sink and all over the kitchen and water to the faucet turned off. Luckily, I guess, I'd kept everything from the house building, even the installation instructions from everything. So, Scottie goes through the faucet install stuff and figures out that this type of faucet, when it leaks, all you do is remove part A and tighten ring X. Simple, huh? Wrong-O! After removing part A, he discovered that ring X ain't there. Either the faucet shipped w/o it, or the plumber who did the install lost it. So. . . .




Mr. Amateur Plumber pulled his head out from under the sink and picked up a different tool - the phone - to call a professional. We're waiting on him.


And I'm in dire need of The Dog Whisperer to deal with a major jealousy issue. After Scottie gets up and feeds dogs, then hits the internet, the dogs come back up for an after breakfast nap with me - I'm still sleeping. First Cocoa appears and asks permission to come up on the bed. Fine. Then Buck comes up and Cocoa starts growling and barking at him, not wanting to share. This time I simply got crowded out since, after several minutes of her behaving like a major Bitch (and not as in "female dog") he wouldn't lie down by her. That pillow his head is on - MINE. That nice quilt covering him - MINE. And me? I'm downstairs making a latte.



I head out Monday by BUS for San Diego to spend a few days with my favorite father-in-law (FIL for short) who has blood clots and needs coumadin shots for a while. Scottie will finish up stuff here, board the dogs and drive down Friday. Meanwhile Lucy Cat is stuffy and sneezing. She has a history of colds, and I'm hoping that Scottie doesn't have to add taking her to the vet to his list.

Then, after what cannot remotely be called a restful time since he's been home, he will have a 5+ hour drive, we'll do a scaled-back birthday celebration for him (SEVENTY), and we'll drive back Sunday. Whoever said retirement is easy is full of - - well, the smelly stuff.