We've been havin' FUN!

Good friends Yvonne and Shari visited from Illinois and we've been playing, and eating, and laughing, and eating, and more eating. . . .

I TRIED to be really careful and drive slowly on the curvy roads, but Shari still got sick our first touring day out. We managed to stop to look at a tarantula, take photos of twisty manzanita trees, and pick a few buckeye pods.



Our second day was a trip up the mountain to see the big trees and visit Crystal Cave. Scottie suggested that riding on the hood in the fresh air would prevent the car sickness. Even though Shari had been the one to get sick, Yvonne was the only one game enough to try the trick. Think her little fingers were pretty worn out by the time we made the cave parking lot.

We had misty weather and low clouds so we skipped the climbing of Moro Rock. I'm not sure, but I think I heard big sighs of relief when that decision was announced. Flatlanders have a tough time with the hills around here.



The trees were absolutely gorgeous and the mosses and lichen have come to life with the wet weather so I had to sneak in a couple of artsy-fartsy photos.

Let's see, we managed to visit down-town Visalia and my favorite Mexican restaurant there, and my favorite Mexican restaurant in Three Rivers, and a fabulous dinner at the Gateway, and a dinner party for friends at our house. Yep, we ate too much.



We finally ran out of energy, money, and room for any more food in our tummies, so the girls left this morning for a flight out of LA.

We had our obligatory good-bye photo. . .










And one with THE MAN (who, by the way, was a totally charming host while the girls were here).


WHY does he always take a better photo than anyone else???


Next guests are the end of the month for Scottie's birthday (watch this blog for his special birthday fund-raiser) and then the first of December for friends. Get your reservations in - space fills up quickly.

Outdoors and In

WE GOT RAIN!

Which means things will be getting green.

If you look carefully at the photo at right you'll see snow on Moro Rock.

The view up-canyon is fantastic in a storm. Of course, it helps that I love storms.








And, having celebrated 10 years married (ha, ha to all you who had low numbers in the pool), we bought ourselves an area rug for the dining room.

It had always been our thought that we'd get a rug for under the table, and I love how it is now set off. With dark wood floors and a dark wood table it all ran together, but the rug makes the table pop!

It also ties in nicely to the red in the kilm rug in the living room, and manages to set off the entryway to the left of the dining area at the same time.

That's a lot to get out of one rug.

On the list today is pick up the tree that Scottie surprised me by buying as an extra anniversary gift. We'll now have two sycamores on the SW corner of the house. Perfect.

The Century Ride

OK, it's taken me a month to get this photo up on the blog. . . .

The photos Scottie took were of other riders, scenery, etc., so I've been waiting for the "official" photo that he ordered.

While this area looks flat, much of his ride was very hilly. I'm not sure if he was the absolute oldest, but he was certainly one of them - he will be 69 at the end of the month. So 100 miles at altitude, in heat, with big hills, after a 6 hour drive the day before and camping the night before - and it's his idea of "fun".

Dr. Hannan's Answers

This is direct from Dr. Hannan in response to my queries about the hoof prints in our yard:

Looks like deer, and here in California that means
Mule Deer not Whitetail (which only enter the extreme
NE part of Calif). The animal was walking. Putting
the hind foot into the forefoot is common. The
advantage is that it halves the probability of braking
a twig as there is only one footprint for two feet.

There is a term for this, but I can't remember it.

Big means buck.

The Sierra deer spend the summer in the high country
and then migrate down the canyons to winter pasture in
the lowlands. This produces an hour glass range. You
are probably at the neck of the hour glass, although
with development of the lowlands, the deer have had to
stop further uphill.

Eddie,

Have Scott ask about deer trails. In some herds (each
hour glass is a herd) the paths are dramatic. Often a
foot wide and six inches deep. The deer follow the
same paths year after year.

DFG in Sacramento produces a pamphlet on each deer
herd. You should be able to get the right one from
the local DFG game biologist. Find out who it is and
ask. It should be free and have all kinds of great
info in it. Could lead to some great fall sights as
puma converge on these trails for obvious reasons.

I should have thought of this earlier. Look up the
local game biologist. There maybe two, one for game
and the other for endangered species. Both will be
fun to talk to.

Doc


So there you have it. I have yet to come up with a biology related question that Jim can't answer!

Lichen and Moss and Hoof-prints - OH MY!

We are nearing autumn weather for real. It's quite chilly at night and pleasant in the day time. We even had a rain while we were out of town.

As a consequence of cooler weather and some moisture, things are getting pretty.


This is one of my favorite rocks. It sits at the base of one of our oaks and has a fair amount of both lichen and moss on it. In the hot summer weather, both are brown and appear dead. It's taken some getting used to the seasons here, and I still have a ways to go. In the mid-West, the dormant season is winter. The same was true when I lived in Mississippi, in San Diego (as much as it has a dormant season), and in New Mexico.

Not so here. The plant kingdom chooses its period of rest to coincide with the ridiculously hot, dry weather that we get in the summer. Granted, there are a trees that lose leaves in our relatively mild winter, and few flowers bloom then, but Summer is the season of brown.


This was taken at the base of our rock wall. I suspect it was made after the rain, but what I don't understand is how one hoof-print is inside another. . . . anyone got an answer?

I'm guessing deer, but it seems awfully large for that. Speculation??


Then there's my latest bit of movie review cum philosophy.

We went to see In the Valley of Elah today. What an incredibly good but incredibly disturbing movie! See it.

I'm convinced that most young Americans, those of the age to be serving in Iraq, are simply not equipped mentally or emotionally for a war of this type. And we, as a nation, are equally ill-equipped politically and philosophically.

These young people are sent off to fight a war with an invisible enemy. No one, including a child, can be assumed trustworthy and presumed bomb-free. Into that go our warriors who have grown up in a world that believes you don't shoot a man in the back, protect women and children, and play "fair". Faced with a situation in reality that means that simply stopping to offer aid may endanger their life and that of their mates, they are forced to take actions that they were taught since childhood were abhorrent. I don't want to say too much and ruin the movie for others, but being based on a true story, it brings the result of this other-worldly experience home in a most disturbing fashion.

Added to that is the political reality that says our leaders aren't free to "bomb them to dust" as one character in the movie suggests. We've become so sensitive - oh, I guess it's really so attuned to the media and polls - that we will put our soldiers lives at risk rather than risk the bad publicity of civilian deaths. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not in favor of killing civilians, but I don't know how you tell who the civilians are in this war. And I've yet to figure what we are accomplishing.

Let's see, no weapons of mass destruction, no chemical weapons, conditions for residents are worse than when we landed. . . . oh, I remember, Shrub said we needed to invade Iraq 'cuz "they tried to kill my Daddy." For real. I couldn't make that crap up. Do you suppose the Shrubbettes think we've evened the score yet?

WHAT A DIFFERENCE!

We are just back from San Diego where we went to celebrate my father-in-law's 96th birthday. That's Hughie on the left in this photo. He still lives alone in a big ol' house in Mission Hills, walks, works in his rose garden and has a pretty darned good life.









Then we have my long time friend, Mae Lou. She's 93 or 94, actually went to high school with Hughie and my mother-in-law Ruth a few decades back. Mae Lou is in a "care facility" with damned little caring being provided. Lost her hearing aides and "they" won't get new ones. Offspring all live out of state so she has little company. She's in a room with two other people with just flimsy curtains to pull for privacy. And, lest you think that's where we all go if we have no money, there is plenty of money in a trust for her care; it's just not being used well.

I get extremely upset when I visit and see the ungodly situation she's been left in; but other than "encourage" her offspring to make other arrangements there is little I can do. Did find an Ombudsman (actually an Ombudswoman) in place this time since someone had complained about Mae Lou having been over medicated, presumably for the convenience of the staff.

Take another look back up at the top photo. That's a good friend Jim Hannan on the right. Jim's a biology professor who presently has a female tarantula. My Spousal Unit decided to take him a male to see if he could breed them. I'm told that one can tell the males from the females based on behavior rather than needing to get close enough to look at sex organs. Anyway, Scottie captured a male, who we named Tommy Tarantula, and put him in a box to take to Jim. That meant that on the trip down we had Lucy Cat, who is ill with a bladder infection, in her carrier as well as Tommy T in his box. Jim happened to be out of town so Mr. T got to reside in the garage for a few days. Well, the Unit got worried that little Tommy might not be faring well so he opened the box to check him out. Tommy was just fine. Ever the concerned soul, the Spousal Unit decided to leave the top of the box open "just a crack" to be sure little Tommy was getting adequate air (did I not say he was FINE). You guessed it - when Scottie went to make the presentation to Jim - no Tommy. He had escaped into my father-in-law's garage where he's probably lurking in the vain hope of a female wandering by. I have the horrible feeling that we'll be capturing another so the breeding program can go on.

Almost rainy season

We're off to San Diego to celebrate Grandpa Hughie's 96th birthday!

He's amazing. Still up and at 'em, living alone in a big old house, keeping his roses. Just amazing.

Think we'll miss the first rain here.

This is our view almost North. I have to learn the names of these various peaks here. Love how the clouds are hanging low.










Looking more East is the view toward Moro Rock.

Lady Moro is shrouded in clouds today also.



This is one of my favorite seasons. Unlike Autumn in the midwest, we don't have the color display, but we have cool nights, fog and clouds moving in, the smell of rain in the air.

Give it a few more weeks and we'll get to Edgar Allen Poe weather - then I really love it!


Meanwhile, I'm over my little hissy fit about the latest medical news and just focused on learning how to manage it. All's well.

What State are you from?

The past few days mine's been named "Discontent".

This is my morning view:

Eagles' Nest or Eagles' Peak, I can never remember. Either way, it's a beautiful and inspiring piece of rock.

Moving my focus this morning to ABUNDANCE.

I don't yet have photos of Scottie's bike ride, but he did complete it, a bit worse for wear. Think that driving 6 hours plus, camping, riding 100 miles including portions up to 8000 feet elevation, then having another 6 hour drive home the next day might have been a bit much. He's had a neck ache and a back ache much of the week and been very tired.

Finally have found someone to work with for landscape planning. Check out www.lamontscapes.com. Susan Lamont, written up in the latest issue of Sunset, and an absolutely fabulous landscape architect, is (I hope) working with us long distance. I sent her a bunch of info and she has promised to get back to me next week after reviewing all of it. She's north of San Francisco, so it will have to be done via internet and telephone and mail. I've been holding out for someone whose work was "right", and Susan is most definitely right! It's reminiscent of when I found the guy who made our table - saw his work and knew "this is it". Same thing with Susan.

See, I've just convinced myself that there is much to be grateful for!

Not a Fun Day

Back to my doctor today for lab results.

The good news: negative for Valley Fever which had been seeming a strong possibility.

The bad news: Cholesterol is ridiculously high, especially for a life-long vegetarian. Given that I'm already on meds, that's not good. Need to make some diet and exercise changes and add some herbal stuff. This seems to be a major hereditary thing in my family and I can only hope to achieve some control.

And - low thyroid; low enough that I start on meds tomorrow. That could well be yet another lifetime med. I'm hoping that getting this back in line will add to my energy level and help me take off the weight I've put on.

And - high blood sugar. No meds, but diet and blood testing and see what happens.

Add that to the existing crap, and I'm not a happy camper. Will it be OK? Sure. Is it a big deal in the grander scheme of things? Of course not. But, I'm claiming the right to be po'd about it today. Tomorrow I'll move on.

So, given my personal rule of not ending on a bad note. . . . Scottie took Cocoa with him yesterday while he worked on the water system down at the old cabin. She absolutely loved it! Came home with that happy dog face. And Buck, ever the slug, was quite happy to veg out with me. Scottie used to always take Mousse with him, but after Mousse died he hasn't been able to get his head, more likely his heart, around taking a dog along. Good for him and good for Cocoa!

FURMINATION!!

All the critters got brushed with the Furminator yesterday.

Buck's always a treat to do 'cuz his hair is coarse. I thought I'd gotten quite a bit of fluff of both Buck and Cocoa, but then I got to Lucy Cat:

We sat at the bottom of the steps, just Lucy and me. For those who remember Lucy's early days, it's now possible to brush this girl without wrapping her paws and claws in a towel to protect life and limb.

I brushed and brushed, and the fur kept coming.

I've been calling my girl Lucy-Lu-Fat-Cat, but I think the fat is just her thick, thick fur.





Since she has an amazing undercoat it's all soft and fluffy. Pretty if one is thinking of a sweater; not so much when you try to keep it corralled. This fluff floats through the air, sticks to walls and clothes, and generally is a major pain.

Once again, I recommend the Furminator to anyone with pets, especially long haired pets.

Musing, Meandering Mind - Mine that is

I'm in a strange state of mind today. The house is quiet. Scottie is out on his bike. The animals are all in their spots. And I'm meditating, musing, generally letting my brain go where it chooses. Sometimes that's good; sometimes not.

Here's where I've been so far:



Everyone says the kitchen is the heart of the home, yet the in thing for kitchens today seems to be so utterly streamlined as to have no feeling. It's all solid granite counters with nothing on them, sleek appliances and cabinets, and nothing that says warmth.

My kitchen is a bit on the messy side deliberately. We've a display shelf that runs around two walls and holds a bunch of mostly old things that matter. We have granite, but it's tile not a solid chunk and the counters are a tad cluttered. The island is totally different wood and we really do use the chopping block top.

The windows grow plants, especially orchids.

And, at the other end is a deliberately mis-matched cabinet. This one is the same styling, but less deep, has glass doors and a dark stain. It looks more like an old furniture piece. I'm thinking it needs old crystal pulls.

The blue and white pot that sits on the floor was my grandparents. Grandma Mitts, my mom's mother, made sour kraut, dill pickles and hominy in it. No, not all at once. I remember it sitting in their home with something fermenting and smelling yummy.

May be that this is where my interest in old pots comes from.

How's that for a segway into these?


Found this wonderful old pot in an antique store somewhere in Missouri at a great bargain. One of the wooden handles is missing, though the wire to hold it remains, and it had been marked way down. Practically stole it. It makes a great pot for the big fiddle leaf fig and the underplantings.






Some of the other pots have had a tough time finding just the right home in our new house, but I think we're getting closer.






In the dining room corner is this plant situated in a big old basket, but around it are a couple of old, old pots. The smaller, dark brown one was my mom's and probably came from her parents. It's been broken and re-glued. I don't mind a bit of imperfection in pots or life.


The other pot was another purchase. It's maybe 300 years old and from China. Bought it on line and on sale.

Most of the things of this type that I keep come from family or friends, but sometimes and old piece that calls to me just has to be purchased.





And, while we're talking a about plants, well sorta, this is my favorite orchid:

Phalaenopsis, also called the moth orchid. The blooms really do look like big, perfect moths.


Next to it you can see a branch of an orchid I've not identified, but have dubbed the spider orchid. Hard to appreciate this one unless it's seen up close.












Speaking of up close, I've had to grab my laptop and move to the day bed. Ellie Cat has taken over the desk top. OK, it's really a table top, but being used for a desk. Ellie loves to lie in the sun, and I hate to disturb her.








Lucy claims a spot in front of the doors to the little balcony off the master bedroom. In the evening she will claim the bed itself, moving on to the master bath at night. She seems to have decided that the entire master suite space is hers and the rest of us visit by her tolerance.





The dogs are preferring to be indoors these days as the heat wave continues.




Cocoa likes the living room rug. She how scared and submissive she looks? She's been reverting to behavior that she had when we first got her from the rescue, fearful, peeing when she's called to come, etc. I think Buck is bullying her too much, so I've set out on a program to let Buck know that Cocoa is the oldest dog, therefor the top dog. Not at all sure it's working, but we'll keep on for a while.






Speaking of that big boy, one of his spots is on the little rug in front of the doors off the living room. Later he will move to a tiled area that stays cooler.

Buck, who has no meanness in him, definitely has a protective streak, especially around me, and it comes out in odd ways. He likes both of the cats, even making friends with Lucy - not an easy trick. But, if either of them hisses, he takes it as a threat to be countered. Given that he's 115 or so, and the cats maybe 8 or 9 pounds, that's not a good thing.


This morning, Lucy joined me on the bed after Scottie went for his bike ride. It's not that she adores me, just that she wants me to get up and feed her.

Buck decided to come to the side of the bed, also to prompt me to get up, and Lucy hissed at him. Fortunately I was awake and about to get out of bed, 'cuz the next thing I knew Buck growled and lunged at Lucy. I jumped up and in between and caught a big Buck paw right in the tummy. Had to grab him by the scruff to remind him that he is not in charge.


Given that nothing on me heals quickly, I'll have this for weeks. Guess that's OK since I don't go around with my tummy hanging out to be seen very often - just a special treat for blog readers.


Finally, the Power of the Universe:

After Hurricane Dean spent his fury in Mexico, we got just the tip of his tail. Southern California had a good amount of rain. Even Visalia had enough to measure. We had just drops. Not enough to help the plants or break the heat.


But we did get a show. I love storm clouds, heck, I love storms. Love the lightening. Love the thunder. Love pounding rain.


For now I'll be satisfied with the clouds.

Do you feel it? Power, majesty. . . .

Do you smell it? Kinda like gunpowder. . . .

Do you hear the crash of the thunder and see the lightening flash?


Does it lift your soul and remind you how small and impermanent we humans are?


Maybe that's what I'm feeling today - this strange desire to sit and be very, very quiet - maybe I'm focused on the fragility of life.

Looking out the windows here, the late summer landscape of the California foothills just captures me. The grasses are a soft gold and most of their seeds have already spilled. The buckeye is a rusty brown, having given up its leaves to heat and drought. The wind blows hot and sucks even more moisture away from plants that are already tinder-dry. Even the oaks are feeling the effects of heat and drought. Many have dropped leaves. Some have aborted their acorns.

There is a sense of waiting, emptiness, almost foreboding. Something in my soul says it's going to be a cold, wet, bitter winter. I'm wanting to bake bread, cut firewood, lay in stores like the woodpeckers hiding the few acorns they can find in perfectly drilled holes in old trees or electrical poles.

For everything there is a season. True. We've separated ourselves from that as much as possible with our central air conditioning and our forced air heat. We have insulated windows and down comforters. We move our clocks forward and back to exercise some control over time itself. Ha. Mom Earth is not happy with our species. We are feeding her poison and trying to pretend that we won't be among the victims of her death.

And me. . . . Well, I write, the book progresses. I read and read some more. I take my little steps, plant a tree, drive an "efficient" car, buy very little "prepared" foods. It's not enough. My generation and ones before us have not taken good care of the Mother, and I'm afraid she's nearly terminal. We can apply our bandaids now, but the real solution must come with the next generations, our children, our grandchildren, their grandchildren.

And yet, I feel a certain optimism simply because we are so very small, fragile and impermanent. Mom Earth has survived this long through dinosaurs and ice ages, through floods and fires. Maybe she will simply shrug her mighty shoulders, sending out massive earthquakes, new mountain ranges rising, floods and tsunamis across the planet, and throw our measley species into oblivion like a mass of fleas

We are so small.

Mid-Week Madness

We are back in the euphemistically titled "triple digits" of temperature. Yuk. Heat advisory tomorrow and I'm not looking forward to it.


We took a ride - car that is - Tuesday so Scottie could show me part of the long, hot, hilly, miserable route he had been riding in preparation for his upcoming century ride. Less than two weeks to go.




I thought for a minute we were back in New Mexico when we passed this lovely place:

Sign says "Sally's Bed & Breakfast" & the small sign tucked behind that says "For Rent". Any takers? Open air living?









I finally managed a better photo of our visiting quail. They come in the early evening, after the dogs have come inside, and eat their way from one side of the yard to the other.

Too cute.








And this cool computer table was created for me by The Man out of a TV table.

Cut down the legs and made it just the right height. I love to work on my laptop sitting in bed in the evening, so now I'm set up to do it with ease.

In between bike rides, this is one talented man!
Think good thoughts on 9/8 when he's riding the big one & hope the heat isn't so bad then!

Bits and Pieces

All kinds of cool things to show!

First of all, we have a new grand-pup. Sarah, Scottie's youngest, adopted Foxy from the pound. (Yes, we like that. I'm much in favor of saving lives.) I'm told Foxy is part Golden Retriever, part Chow-Chow.

I'm thinking there's something else in there too, something with the more pointy, delicate face. Anyway, isn't she pretty? And, notice how she matches the red-gold flecks in Sarah's tile? Wonder if that was deliberate. . . nah, I don't picture Sarah thinking of dog as decorative item.
So, welcome to Foxy.

Me thinks I need to do a whole post dedicated to all the grand-pups. I'd do one dedicated to grandkids, but we have no recent photos. I need to complain to the parental units.

[And, while I'm on the dog topic, I did my first football related little victory dance yesterday when I heard that Michael Vick got an indefinite suspension from the NFL. 'Bout time a few of the powers that be do the right thing.]


And this would be The Man in his Park uniform. He won't like this picture because it makes him look less skinny than he is because of his arm being up and holding the shirt away from his skinny self. With all his preparation for his first Century ride (coming up in a couple of weeks) he is getting really, really thin. And the shirt is loose, really loose. So there is lots of fabric to be held away from the body. Now if I were the type of woman my mother was I'd tailor this to fit him like she did my older brother's Army uniforms. Not happening.

Just thought you needed one of those "man in uniform" shots.







Here we have the remains of the one big sunflower growing here along with a couple of the little culprits. The goldfinches have simply decimated it. The foliage is totally stripped; now they finished removing the petals and are eating their way through the back of the head.

I can't really complain since the flower was planted by birds from seed in our feeders. It's only fair that it becomes bird food itself.





Ellie Cat has adopted the top of the old pie cabinet as one of her favorite perches. This goofy girl likes high places and hidey-holes. When we lived in New Mexico we heard meowing during a dinner party and found her shut in the bottom of an old buffet that I used to store linens. She'd sneaked in while I was setting the table and been shut in. Last week Scottie was vacuuming and left the door to the closet where the central vac is located open. Yep, she went in and ended up spending the night there sans water or litter box. She beat feet up the steps to the litter box the first thing upon her release. Then she stationed herself on the steps and took swipes at ME when I'd pass, obviously blaming me for having been imprisoned! I had nothing to do with it, but tell that to a cat.







I've been less than pleased with the color I chose to paint the legs of the old tub. It looked too much like pot metal. This new effect is the result of using silver leaf on them. Cool.

I've never worked with silver (or gold) leaf before and found it quite fascinating. The sheets of silver leaf are incredibly thin and fall apart easily. It's applied over a very tacky glue, then brushed repeatedly with a soft brush. What doesn't adhere falls off. You can see a few loose pieces on the floor to be cleaned up.

Anyway, I like this much better. I especially like how the "claw" now is more evident.

Here's my funny story for the week: Wednesday was my day at my little part time job. So, I'm there late, being dogged by health issues, the boss lady is having a bad day, things are going from bad to worse. We get a call that the alarm at her home is going off. Of course she is in an important meeting. So, I stick my head in and tell her what's happening. She thinks that her dogs have probably set it off, so I volunteered to run over to the house and shut it down. I take her car keys and what I think is the code to the alarm, and off I go. Get to the house and notice the garage door is partially open but think nothing of it. Go in and try to shut off the alarm. Wrong. I have one key wrong and the #@%! thing blares like a fog horn. Her birds start going nuts. Dogs are barking outside. I call the office where I can hardly be heard over the din, Nola says she'll be right over (with both of us forgetting that I have her keys), and a cop pulls up. I explain who I am and why I'm there and that she is on her way. First thing is I get scolded for going in the house when there could be an intruder, especially since the garage door is partially open. (Neither of us knew there is no entrance to the house from the garage.) So, it's back in the house with the young policeman, still wondering where Nola is, doing the whole walk through thing, alarm still blaring. He manages to turn off the alarm and I call the office to say you don't need to come, about then realizing that Nola can't come 'cuz I have the car keys. The cop says the alarm company reports the triggering to have taken place at the back patio door - no signs of attempted entry - reminds me again I shouldn't have come in the house. Bear in mind that this is a very quiet neighborhood and it's like a three-ring circus while all this is going on. Finally, cop leaves, I re-check all doors to be sure they are locked, talk to the birds for a minute to be sure they are calmed and OK (birds stress easily and can die from it), say good bye to the dogs who have calmed down nicely and head back to the office thinking it must be time to go home. Wrong. Barely noon. And, it kept up all day that way, ending with . . . Oh, never mind. It was not a good day.

Kid Fun

We've had granddaughter Halle here for several days, losing her back to Mom today, and boy have we had fun!

Scott, aka Gumpy (think about it) tried to turn her into a plumber taking her along a couple of days to work on a project he has going down at the cabin. Call me silly, but I don't think she's sold on it.

We girls managed to slip into girl time, going to Exeter to get our toes done!

I opted for a brick/muddy red color while Halle went rock star with bright red topped of with glitter. Wowza, wowza, wowza!







Among the other treats was a trip up to Sequoia Park to do the Crystal Cave tour. We took the old truck 'cuz Scott's employee sticker allowed us to bypass the line to get in the Park. Couldn't help us at the place where the road construction goes on though. Halle, aka Squirt, is barely tall enough to look out the front window of the truck. Very serious look on both faces.











Check out the cool spider web gate:












I won't make you look at all the photos from inside the cave, but you have to see just one to get an idea of why the name Crystal Cave. Pretty gorgeous, yes?


The cave tour was over way too quickly. I want to do the Wild Explorer tour, where you wear hard hats, knee pads, and who knows what else, crawl on bellies through tight spots, and get to spend 4 to 6 hours underground AND get to see stuff that is not on the regular tour. Unfortunately that only happens through the end of August and it's booked for this year, so I've signed up to be notified when when start taking reservations for next year.








My dogs followed Halle everywhere while she was here and seemed to get it that she was leaving today. We managed a farewell photo with both before hopping in the car to meet Amanda in Turlock, roughly the halfway point between here and San Francisco.












Gumpy taught Halle how to read maps and serve as the navagator, and she did a pretty good job.


So we had lunch at one of the old, old Mexican joints in Turlock then headed back home, tired, very, very tired. Almost-10-year olds have way more energy that we do!

Got Quail

Yep we do. Cute little California Quail. I love those guys with their silly top knots and funny ways.


This guy is the Scout. There seems always to be one that goes out ahead to make sure the territory is safe for the rest of the covey. So, he's out there doing his job.






Then we have the main group feeding. I spooked them after this getting photos and they flew. Usually one will hang behind as the Guard until everyone else has left.

I couldn't get a shot of them running through the high grass. I love how they go - all in a line, everyone hurrying along in order.

Just read yesterday that we should expect a really bad fall in terms of food for all of Mom Nature's critters. Many of the oaks have aborted their acorns due to the drought accompanied by the burst of extreme heat we had a few weeks back. I knew the acorns were falling but didn't know why. When this happens the acorns have not developed to the point of having any food value, so the creatures that depend on them - like bears trying to fatten up for hibernation - don't have that source of nourishment. Supposedly we'll see bears especially in places they normally don't go like even in the commercial orchards stuffing on oranges. I suspect Mom Nature has dealt with this many times before, but it's our first drought summer here and is curious for me to watch.


Scottie and I also did a little planting yesterday. We've got a couple of lavenders and a couple of rudbeckias along with some thyme - all fenced in in the hope that we can keep the dogs out for long enough that the thyme will be able to root. They don't bother the larger plants but seem to not recognize that the small ones are something they should leave alone.

Granddaughter Halle gets picked up by Gumpy (a short, hopefully endearing terms for Grumpy Grandpa) tomorrow and will be with us at least into the weekend. Lots of plans. . . .

One - or Two - of THOSE Days

OK, yesterday I started out determined to have a great day. As many of you know, I've been dealing with some difficult health issues the past few years that have taken me out of my old athletic pursuits, changed my image of myself, etc. So, Scottie, aka The Man, talked me into getting a bike. Great idea. I have a mountain bike, not 'cuz I plan any real mountain biking, but because it will make it easier to ride the gravel roads around here. Yesterday AM, I set out for a small ride. It went great. Then I went to the little local plant nursery, had a great conversation with the owner, bought a few plants, made arrangements for him to come give some advice on our plantings, still great. Then I went to the market.

See, I had this plan to give Scottie a great day. He had worked really, really hard out in the heat on Thursday, working on the water system where we used to live. Then he was working up at the Park yesterday, and I could tell he was tired before he ever left for work. So, the big plan was to fix his kind of meal for dinner, as opposed to my kind of meal, have it all set up and ready to go; draw him a tub of water with the special muscle relaxing salts in it, and let him soak while I got dinner ready. Wrong.

At the market I got some sweet corn and potatoes and onions, planning to do all that on the grill along with a big steak for him. As a life-long veggie, I don't know steak from pork chops, so at the market I tried to ask for some help from the butcher. I said (in my happy, having a great day, on a mission voice) "Hi, I'm a vegetarian and I could use some help picking a good steak for my husband." He said "I don't care if your a vegetarian, pick your own steak." Let's just say it wasn't a happy, playful voice. So, being sure he couldn't have meant to be that rude, I said "Did you hear the end of my sentence? I would like some help picking a steak." He said, "I heard you, pick your own steak." Stood there (big guy) looking hateful and angry. I started to say OK, then just couldn't, felt myself tearing up and walked away.

So, the owner of the store (relatively new owner, nice 30-something female who I have heard is from Russia), comes up to me, tells me she has heard what he said and is so sorry, etc. I burst into tears. Now, those who know me know that I'm not the burst-into-tears type. There's something about very sincere empathy delivered right at the moment of a hurt that just did me in. So, I'm blubbering "I just wanted a nice steak for my husband," she's repeatedly apologizing, telling me he's done this with other customers, etc. Lovely scene. Long story short, I couldn't quit crying. The store owner finally went and selected a t-bone (I still don't know if that's a good steak) and told me it was at no charge. I got the rest of my stuff, tried to control my sniffles and made my way to the check-out. I thought I was almost under control, just a few stray tears left, when I got tapped on the shoulder and turned to see the big old butcher who said "I just want to apologize for being such a jerk." So, I burst into tears again. He ran for the bushes; I finished checking out, forgot the bread on the list, and made my way home still sniffling.

So, a few deep breaths, a diet coke, a fortuitous phone call from my daughter (thanks for understanding, Muf) and I was on my way to making still a great day for Scottie. Wrong.

One of my great relaxers is working in the garden, so I busted my butt preparing the bed for my new plants, and got them planted despite repeated dive-bombing by hummers. So, that part of the day went well:


We now have salvia, mallow, sage, thyme, and a few other goodies in a little bed around the hummer feeders.

The salvia has bright red blooms that the little darlings have already found.

This sits behind the small stone wall built by Bob Kellog and just at the top of the stone steps that I built.

Like it.















Meanwhile, I need to get cleaned up and on with the dinner plans. I got the steak ready with some spice rub, sliced up potatoes and onions with butter in foil to do on the grill, cleaned the corn and wrapped it with butter to do on the grill, and was just sweeping the kitchen when Scottie got home. End of plan.

Scottie didn't want a relaxing soak in the tub. He didn't want to clean up period. He wanted to sit and relax. OK, fine. Then he pulled the charcoal grill onto the front porch (one of my pet peeves - gives me a hills of Tennessee feeling) and started it. I wasn't going to get to cook the meal, etc., and give him some time and space to relax. So, I tried to put on a cheerful face, tell him my market story in a funny way and just go with the flow. Well, he was exhausted (me too), nothing was funny, nothing was working.

He did finally go upstairs to shower and left the charcoal grilling to me. A mess. Scottie had the grill set up to cook his way, meaning a few coals and a hot fire with the lid off. I tried to do it my way, meaning I needed more coals, opened both the bottom and top vents but failed to realize the bottom was clogged with spent coals from prior use. So, the potatoes didn't get cooked through, the corn was cold, and I have no idea how the steak was. Scottie doesn't like to eat in the dining room (my original plan) unless there is company. So I set up the little kitchen table, threw the potatoes and the corn in the micro for some last minute finishing off. And, we did eat. Then we both stuffed on the remains of peach cobbler and icecream.

ENOUGH ALREADY OF THAT DAY.

This morning, Scottie is still exhausted, grumpy, etc. So, I suggested he have a bike ride, then we'll go into town. He sets out - and comes home very shortly with a flat. Now he's really grumpy. I'm thinking it's time to just life sort itself out and quit trying to direct it!

Since I don't like to end on a down note, let's have a couple of plant photos for fun:



The fiddle-leaf fig is so happy in its new spot just by the French doors that it may have to get it's top whacked off soon to prevent going through the ceiling! I planted a couple of things at the bottom just to keep if from looking top heavy.



And, we have the Spathiphyllum, a variegated one, that lives on the landing of the stairs. This is a great house plant! They thrive in very low light conditions, so you can put them in places most plants won't do well, and they like very moist soil, so it's hard to kill them from over-watering. We like that in a plant.





Ever notice how the more living things you surround yourself with, be that humans, pets, house plants, garden, you name it, the more it costs you in terms of money, time, effort. BUT, and here's the important part, the more you get back.

That difficult husband who wasn't in a frame of mind to appreciate or even want the special dinner I planned - he's a great guy who goes out of his way to make my life easier.

That little flower bed that gave me the achy, achy back last night is already making the hummers happy.

This dwells-in-the-near-dark plant gives me pleasure every time I go up or down stairs.

And, you all know how I feel about our furry-faced family members.

Even the grumpy butcher apologized, and Scottie got a free T-bone. So, someone tell me if that's a good steak.

Bears and Drugs

No, not together. And I have no photos.

We have a neighborhood bear that goes through our place. Apparently he/she travels late at night as our dogs don't even notice. We do have bear poop though as does a neighbor. I hope to get a photo before Mr./Ms. Bruin takes off.

There was a major drug bust going on up in the Park, in the Mineral King area, that may or may not be over. Walking dogs this AM I saw a SUV load of Park Rangers coming back down, some of them in full camo gear. Then, 3 more SUVs passed us going up, these filled with more camo and those earpiece microphone thingies. Next, at the little fire station near us were umpty-ump more folks and a van with satellite communications gear mounted on top. So, I had to stop and ask what was up. The answer was a marijuana "garden" found on up Mineral King Road, and shots fired from the gardeners at a Park Service helicopter. So, all the good guys and gals were out after the bad guys. I was told there were a minimum of three bad guys who were trying to make their way down and out of the area. It was also suggested that it would be a good day to lock our doors. Didn't do that 'cuz of the dogs. And, don't much plan to try for photos of this one.

We did see a bunch of vehicles going back down the hill late this afternoon, but I don't know if that means that they got the guys yet or not.

It's about #@&*! Time!

Long time readers (I can say that now that this blog has been up and running over a year) may remember the vintage chandelier that my friend Yvonne and her sister Madeleine sent along to me for our new house. It was broken in transit. The good news about that was that the breakage disclosed hidden wiring problems that I would never have known about if we had just put it up. So, long story short, UPS paid off on the insurance, we got a new chandelier, and I kept pieces of the old one to make "something" out of.


This is something:
It's hanging above my art table and I'm planning to use it to root plant cuttings. It took about a dozen tries to fit the various pieces together the way I wanted and at least a dozen more to make it water proof. And, there is far more goop, another of those silly technical terms, than I'd hoped for, around the base - a couple of types of glass glue, some silicone caulk, a few prayers, maybe even touch of fairy dust. But, it works and I love it.


The light we ordered from Pottery Barn, thinking we wanted it on the subtle side, turned out to be so subtle it almost disappeared into the walls. So, I got brave and smeared on some green paint and some yellow paint, and I do mean smeared, to liven it up a bit, then added a string of small crystals to go with the ones that came on the light.



NOW it's what I wanted it to be! Looks a little antique-y, has an essence of being old about it even though it's not, doesn't look too perfect. Yep, that's me. Still hard though to get decent pictures with windows on both sides.


Funny, seems like my life goes this way. Things just aren't as I planned, but with a little tweaking here and there, usually a bit messy in its execution, things turn out fine. And, along the way there are always totally unexpected treasures to rescue.

So, thanks to friends for the goodies and to the Powers That Be for the persistence! It's good to have both.