Babysitter Story, Chapter 2

No doubt it's really silly to refer to this weekend with Josh as "babysitting." He is not a baby, and doesn't require much "sitting." I fix meals for him, and keep him company (and make sure he gets to bed finally, after the lengthiest getting-ready process I've ever seen in my life). 

Friday evening after he and I had an early dinner, I bargained with him: "If you get all ready for bed now, we can watch a movie together before you go to sleep." He was pretty fast with the process, based on that deal. The great film biography of Johnny Cash, "Walk The Line," was on CBS, and we watched it together. Josh asked very well thought out questions as we watched: "Exactly when did all this happen?" was one of my favorites -- the 60s costumes probably made the timeframe look like a long-bygone era to the lad! He asked about the problems and pain that ensue with drug abuse, and was interested in how June Carter's care for and love for Johnny made a good man out of him eventually.

On Saturday morning, Josh came downstairs and asked, "May I watch some TV while you fix breakfast?"  I said, "Sure, it's Saturday, want to watch cartoons?" He replied, "No, I like the Discovery Channel."  He watched a program on wildlife during Arctic summer, and we discussed it as I fixed a pretty good pancake brunch with fresh fruit and yogurt.

In the afternoon, Aunt Julie drove down from Seascape and went with us to Monterey to see the brand-new (and wonderful!) Pixar film, "Up."  It will be much loved by all ages of kids and adults, I predict.  We did a little shopping afterward, and I took us to dinner at P. F. Chang's (Josh ate a huge plateful of Shrimp in Lobster Sauce over rice -- after some hearty appetizers, of course.)

I think that at least I've partially redeemed myself after the rocky start to this grandma weekend!

Babysitter Blues

"Here's the story / of an old grandmother / who had brought up her six kiddies, plus two more / and it's the story / of how old grandmother / was out shopping when her grandson needed her"

I contracted to stay with Josh in his home in Marina for three days, while Joe and Kathie flew back to Chicago for a nephew's wedding this weekend. Here's the first installment in the story.

John drove me down to Marina on Friday mid-AM; Kathie and Joe had already left for the San Jose airport, but I had a house key. Josh was at school (presumably until 4:30 PM when the bus would bring him home).... John then went on down south to have a weekend with sibs, Marie and Robert – and to see their new shared rental house in Altadena.

So I took the small car left here for my use, and drove down to the big shopping center in Monterey, to look at the two recliner chairs  in situ that I have on order at Macy's. (I sat in the floor model, inspected it, and declared it "just right.")  I did a bit of other looky-loo shopping and had lunch at Whole Foods (the free samples did it for me) -- and got back to Marina at 2 PM -- and there was a car parked in the driveway.... Scary.

Turns out that shortly after I'd locked up and left this house, Josh's school had called because Josh had a tummyache and wanted to come home. Not finding anyone home, they called Kathie's cell, as she waited at the San Jose airport to board for Chicago. She couldn't reach me, since John had taken our one cellphone with him.....

Luckily, Kathie got hold of her former teaching partner Linda, who lives around the corner from her and is retired and was at home -- so Linda picked Josh up at school, brought him back here and waited for my return.

I felt like I'd failed my first babysitting test. But how could I have known? And Josh was not sick; he was a little constipated and won't use the school bathrooms -- the problem was taken care of as soon as he got back home, according to Linda, and he was fine when I got here. (Linda and I conjectured that he might have thought the complaint would give him more time with Granny Franny -- but that didn't quite work out!)

Joe and KB called as soon as they landed in Chi, and were very understanding, but I apologized profusely.

Anyway, grandson and second-rate grandma had a nice afternoon and evening together, and all's well.

Balloon Story

Sometimes grace does drift down from the heavens: here's how it happened in my forest-garden today.

 I was sitting in the back room in late morning, doing a little IM and e-mailing, and looked up to gaze at the greenery beyond the big windows. Goodness! Suddenly there was a lovely bouquet of blue, white and silver balloons, tied with ribbon, floating across near the tops of the trees!  As I watched, they drifted slowly down and alit on the back deck, under the umbrella on the glass patio table.

I couldn't believe my eyes; but I ran out, gathered the gift, and tethered the bouquet to the railing of the porch fence – where it floats and waves gaily, even now.

I asked my friend Sarah, who was on the chat line with me at the time,  if this meant that it was my turn to give a party (since these balloon clusters are often tied to the gate of a party-house); she made a lovely reply: "Maybe the party is just for you."

Every day is a sort of party at this cottage; but today was made very special by that gift from above!

Workin' On A Dream: Part 2

It's Friday: TGIF.  And we are back in our own little cottage again.

Yesterday we spent the morning running back and forth between Merrybrook and our house; power failure afflicted both locations, as it did on Wednesday also. We passed some time watching the paint dry; listening to Peter's generator powering the saws for a tree service trim job next door; and getting errands done in the village.  By lunch time we were ready for a break, so we made sandwiches and sat on the little deck over the creek at our lodge. The deck on the cabin next door (Number 4) was being rebuilt, but the noise of the workmen was not as bad as that at home, and the Mexican radio station was playing some easy-listening dance music; we sat on that deck for a couple of peaceful hours, as a breeze wafted past and the stream gurgled below.  Two beautiful mallard ducks were fishing for lunch below the deck; birds were singing.  I love that lodge.

We met the painter late in the afternoon at our cottage, and we all pronounced it Very Good.  I headed to the back room to write a check for him and as I went on-line first, to see how our bank balance was faring, I discovered that someone had paid for the paint contractor's work: President Obama!  There was an automatic deposit to the account for our Stimulus Package lagniappe.  I wrote the check and handed it to Mr. Painter, saying: "It's from the government, they are here to help us!"  He opined that we were being very good citizens, as we were spending the money immediately, in a local business (he lives on Bear Creek Road) on home improvement. You can't get more patriotic than that, folks! Thanks, Barack!

To celebrate yet another great bit of good luck, we took ourselves down the road to dinner at Scopazzi's, and lifted a glass of local red to the new administration as we celebrated the successful completion of Stage One of our renovation.

Yes, the before/after photos are coming soon, via Kodak Gallery: watch your incoming mail.

Mr. Soule Renovates His Dream House, Part 1

If you ever read the book or saw the movie, "Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House," you'll have had a preview of our time of fun and games this season.  We have long planned to do something about the parlor/library and the guest quarters in this cottage, but we are glad we waited (judiciously) for Leenie and Greg's visit and sage advice – no pun intended.  Leenie recommended going with Sage Green for the repainting of the floor, and we are indebted to her for a wonderful bit of good decorating advice.  

The burden of choosing the right depth and tint of the paint was worse than we'd guessed, however; you have NO idea how many shades of green exist in this world of ours.  I should have guessed, looking out every morning at all the varied greens in our garden and forest; but I really thought that if I said "sage green" everyone would know exactly what I was talkin' about. Nope.

"Well, let's just look at these color samples," piped the cheery woman at the paint store – and she spread out before us on her counter a veritable Garden of Eden selection.  "Do you want a slightly blue cast, or a bit of yellow perhaps?  How about a soupcon of grey, or brown, to add calming notes?"

I needed a calming drink, at that point. The light from the store windows and the overhead fluorescence in no way resembles the filtered forest-y light that slants into our parlor.  We searched our tired memories – did the color on the green walls of the parlor hold a hint of blue? or yellow? brown? grey?  Who knew?

We randomly chose a couple of shades we thought might work, and while she mixed those up in quarts and shook the hell out of them on the power mixer, we tried to choose yet another shade of the ubiquitous Green to cover the Knossos Palace Red that disgraced the walls of the alcove in the corner of the parlor. After our exhaustive search we just pointed at a couple of Forest Green tints and said: "We'll try those."

Home to our mountains, we went; and daubed the edges of the floor and red walls with the choices.  Alas: none of the four paints was worth a damn, seen in situ.  The two choices for the floor were a pale pastel, suitable for a little girl's bedroom wall perhaps, but silly on a floor.  The one shade I sort of liked for the walls reminded John of his duties repainting Army trucks, back in the day – a poor choice indeed.

Finally we got the inspiration, belatedly, to run around the cottage and pick up other green things we had that we liked. We held them up against the present green walls and found a pillowcase and a ribbon that seemed to convey the right shades.  Then, after more debate, we realized that we were up against an insurmountable problem: too many shades of green were going to make our parlor look like a damp and mossy cave.

New plan: how about a light golden tint for the Knossos Korner?  Eureka!  We shuffled through all the little paint chips we'd brought home, and found the one we liked: but it was dubbed something like "Terrace Maple." 

"Aahh, what's in a name?" I screeched, in a horrible parody of Juliet's dissembling argument.  "It looks good to me, we're going with it."

Unlike Juliet, however (who discovered there's a whole world of trouble in having the wrong surname), I was right.  The first coat of both paints has proved that the second try was a big success.

We went back down to the paint store in Santa Cruz, picked out the right tints on that journey, and the painters arrived this morning.  As the base coats were brushed on the floor and walls, we could see with our own eyes, in our own house, that we had "done good."

Tonight and tomorrow we will be sleeping by the creek at Merrybrook Lodge, while the work is completed. In truth, we could sleep in our bedroom right here at the cottage, but we'd have no way to fix dinner or get anywhere near the kitchen at all, as that add-on room has no outside doors, and we can't walk across the parlor floor while the paint is wet – the only way to get from the bedroom or any of the entry doors to the kitchen.  At least that is my rationale for giving ourselves a couple of days of summer vacation at our favorite resort. With the cost of remodeling and refurnishing giving our budget a headache this year, we won't be doing any other "resorting" in 2009.

Tune in tomorrow, when Fran learns how to attach "before and after" photos to this blog!

 

NOT About Boulder Creek

This week it's been all about Santa Barbara, and the incredible Jesusita fire that has caused our family and friends to become refugees.  Some have bunked in with friends who live just out of range of the danger – although with the winds sweeping flames east and west at the same time, it's hard to guess what might be out of range tomorrow, if it is safe today.  For Jude and Mary Jane, who had taken in friends to their home, it was an object lesson in "safe" – they were evacuated at 2 AM on Friday, along with their guests.

My creative siblings have done the ultimate evacuation: they got in a car and headed to Cambria, a lovely resort on the Pacific, at the beginning of the Big Sur Highway.  Those two know how to be refugees: that's got class and style, guys!

This weekend it is beginning to look like the worst is over, fire-wise: but the clean-up will take months, and the rebuilding much longer.

We had planned to go down for a visit in Santa Barbara later this month; but that's been cancelled, as it's not going to be a quick cleanup there, especially with regard to the air.  I can't take a chance on exposing my weak lungs to any particulates floating around in my oxygen.

We have waited, worried, prayed, and been very frightened at times; but everyone is breathing easier now that the winds have changed and fog has returned to its usual perch on the Riviera hills.

I know it could certainly be a preview of summer up here in our wooded hills, and we will be extremely vigilant in watching fire news – with a determination to get out of here to safety if there is even a slight danger on the horizon.  We love our mountain cottage so very much, but neither it or anything within it is worth risking any danger to our lives.

May Day!

No, we're not in trouble up here.  It's just that I love this first week of May – every year it makes me feel good – Spring has sprung!

We're getting more rain, too: a wonderful thing, as it's usually all over for us, H-2-O wise, by the end of April.  Fill the watercourses, dear Lord, we'll need it this summer.

Of course, with rain comes power outage.  Our electricity was off all last night, went out around 10 PM and just came back on at 7 AM today.  I finished reading the wonderful new novel by Leenie's buddy, Sarah Dunant, by the light of a dim lantern last evening: very appropriate, as it is about life in a convent in Renaissance Tuscany.  (Such a great historical love story, you must get and read it, friends, when it is published in mid-July.)

Our horrible virus siege is just about over, after a month of suffering, and that lifts our spirits as much as the coming of May. I guess that, being "old, now" we have to expect that illnesses will take longer to conquer than they once did; we'll also have to take serious steps to avoid picking up viral and bacterial infections.

Now we have seen the last of our guests for a while, and we are finally beginning the work that needs to be done this year on renovation of this cottage of ours.  The parlor and guest-room floors are the first project, scheduled for a week from now.  While that work is being done (including repainting the horrid orangey-red wall of the alcove in the parlor and ridding ourselves of the ugly chandelier therein) – we will go down and stay at Merrybrook for a couple of days.  When the work is done to our satisfaction, we will leave it to dry thoroughly while we head down for the long-delayed visit to Southern California, I think, over a weekend.  Our various siblings are clamoring for our presence there, and it will be an opportune time to go.  After that, we have a lot of outdoor work to be done, and more finishing touches to be installed for John's study.

By July, we should be able to take a deserved rest during the very warm summer months, lounging on our deck in the shade of the new umbrella table, on our chaise lounges, with a cool lemonade and a good book in hand.