It's Comin' On August / They're Cuttin' Down Trees

This is a kinda sad morning: We have Men In Trees, in our very own garden. Sigh. I hate to see a tree come down, anywhere, any time; but we've been warned several times by those who know (not the guys who'll get paid for their work this noon) that these tan oaks are putting us in grave peril in the next windstorm of winter. As much as I am a "Save The Trees" gal, I am not sanguine with the idea of our cottage being split in two before Christmas! So we cut a deal with Crazy Peter next door; he had a tree in need of cutting, so he negotiated with his arborist. For a good group price, the boys are up there lopping off big limbs (not their own, the tree limbs) in preparation for the "TIMBBERR" moment soon to come.

The buzzin' of the saw is gettin' me down / Think I'm-a gonna trip down into the town / Get me a cuppa at the Rainbow's End / Try to get my broken ol' heart to mend.

(The Treehugger's Blues)

Sunday In The Park: Part 2

(NOTE: Read "Part 1" below, first!)

Sundays usually bring us four hours or so away from the cottage. With an hour's round trip to church at 10 am, we try to incorporate other stops over in Scotts Valley on our way to or from Mass. (The Episcopal sermons are a good bit lengthier than the usual Roman Catholic, so services are usually an hour and a half, or so. We don't mind, as our Pastor Mary Blessing is a really fine preacher, especially when she does a children's homily once a month, as on August 2nd). Today as we were leaving, we picked up a loaf of outrageously good Arcangeli Ciabatta bread - famous in this part of California, baked daily in a little fishing town up the coast – from the greengrocer's stand next to the church; and we stopped off for lunch at a Cambodian fast-food cafe nearby (chicken lemongrass soup with Kaffir lime leaves; spicy minced meat/cabbage-leaf wraps – on their shady, quiet patio).

We spent most of the afternoon on our back deck; John made lists (I can't stop him!) and I did a manicure and some light reading – and watched the little flowers I'd just set out on the baker's rack, as they danced in the summer breeze. And I thanked God for all the beauty that surrounds us here.

After listening to a Garrison Keillor program on Lake Wobegon Lutherans – lots of lovely hymns! – we ate a light supper (Insalata Caprese and a bit of that good loaf we'd bought earlier) and were off to read and to sleep, perchance to dream.

Sunday In The Park: Part I

A foggy mountain Sunday morning; the ocean breezes that keep us cool during hot August sunshine (as they did yesterday) sometimes bring these wisps of grey mist up over our treetops as day breaks. Once the sun is up, the fog scurries right back down to the seacoast.

Last evening we and our immediate neighbors had a BBQ on Peter's deck; we, Ted and Teresa, and two of Peter's grown kids (and their SOs) gathered at 5 o'clock for wine (provided by us) and hors d'oeuvres (steamed artichokes and dip, shrimp cocktail platters). It was a jolly little party; and the T-Bone steaks (Peter's standard menu-du-jour) were humungous. After the cheesecake and fresh strawberries were consumed – yes, that too! – the young folks went off to some lowdown stompin' bar, and we elders sat by the fire and talked. It was a piggy but delightful way to begin our month of holiday.

Ted and Teresa are off for their vacation in Ontario and then to Vancouver, later this month; and Peter is going back to Europe soon (he and his daughter, The Lovely Ashley as we call her, just got back from two weeks in England at the end of July) ..... I don't get why people want to go away from this wonderful forest; we're so happy just being here on our Staycation.

AUGUST PASTORALE #1

Saturday, August 1:

Bright sunlight illumined the treetops beyond our window wall and woke us to the first day of our StayCation. Ye gods! – it was 8:30am! Did we realize how late we were?? Then it dawned on us just like the day – we were supposed to sleep in; how can you be late for a holiday?

Fortified with a hot cuppa, provided by husband, I sat in my rocking chair in my little corner of the bedroom for a few wake-up minutes and gazed at the wooded hills across Boulder Creek from our cottage, and meditated. "Wow," my monkey mind chattered, "you don't have to do anything today, you know that?" I retorted, "Oh, there must be lots of things I have to get done, just give me a minute."

Half an hour later, I was still sitting there, talking to my simian consciousness. "Well, I have to water my new flowering annual pots on the baker's rack out on the deck; I have to pick some flowers from the rose garden and the Bouquet Planter, how about that?"

"Hah," the monkey retorted, "you call that work?"

"No, I do not call it work; I call it FUN! That means I can do it, then," I thought; and I picked up my rose-clippers and went out into the morning light to create a bouquet for our breakfast table.

My man and I had a freshly laid organic egg, with toast and orange juice, and went our separate ways for the rest of the morning; we ended up puttering around the house and garden, doing a bit of this and that, for most of the day.

At 5 PM we strolled across the way to Crazy Peter's new outdoor deck, where he'd invited us and our other close neighbors Ted and Teresa, for an evening barbecue feast. Peter is a huge Frank Sinatra fan, so "Fly Me To The Moon" was blasting on his stereo; a whole new set of cushiony patio furniture welcomed us as we gathered around the coffee table for shrimp cocktails, steamed artichokes, and an assortment of wines provided by us. Peter's two local kids came in with their respective S.O.'s – and we all munched and sipped and chatted while the prime T-Bones roasted on the grill. Peter and his daughter had been to England and Switzerland last month, and we looked at some on-line photos via a laptop. As the day faded, we all grabbed large plates and filled them with too much food, poured another glass of wine around the group, and ate ourselves into a stupor. Then Peter brought out the cheesecake with fresh strawberries; we groaned, but we ate that too!

After the younger generation departed for some lowdown stompin' bar, we five old fogies sat around with candlelight and coffee, and talked about our plans for the month of August. Peter is going back to Europe for a few days; Ted and Teresa are off at mid-month for a family wedding in Ontario and then a trip across Canada to stay for a few days in Vancouver – where they plan to retire in 10 years or so.

I just can't understand why anyone would want to vacation anywhere else, much less retire to any place that is not right here, in the Paradise we have found.

A Week In The South

Last week we were in Santa Barbara, having a good visit with my siblings and getting some things taken care of that were necessary. I had my yearly physical and mammogram and passed both with flying colors – my doctor practically threw me out of the office, I'm so disgustingly healthy.

We had a couple of good visits with friends; took my brother out for a belated birthday dinner at the funky cook-your-own-steak restaurant in Carpinteria (The Palms); and saw the "Harry Potter VI" film at the beautiful Arlington Theatre. We got to Mass at Trinity, our dear old parish.

On the way down, we stopped overnight in Carmel Valley, and did some research on venues for the 2010 family reunion (the RU-10 Blog is almost up and ready, and everyone will be alerted when it is published).

Now we're happily back home in our dear cottage; and we are trying to finish up all the little odds and ends of chores that need to be done for this season – so that we can take the entire month of August "off" and just enjoy the beautiful summer weather on our deck overlooking the forest.

I have lots of good reading saved up for that time, including an anthology of James Baldwin's nonfiction and the newest McCall-Smith novel about Botswana's "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency." We will do some local excursions to places we haven't checked out yet, and begin a regime of daily morning walks. I plan to get back to regular daily piano sessions – and writing exercises to prepare for the first book of my memoirs (which will grow, I hope, out of my September visit to my childhood's home in Ann Arbor).

As part of my writing work, I will try to keep this blog going with a sort of Summertime Pastorale, to record what we hope will be a much more peaceful August than our last year's moving-in process could allow. (If I get too flowery or effusive, please send me a nasty comment-note and I'll tone it down!)

Summertime, No Blues

We love summer in the mountains: clear blue skies, temperatures around 75 F. with light breeze – and very warm in the midday hours on our back deck. The Glorious Fourth passed almost unnoticed up here (by us, at least). There was a kids' parade on Route 9 last Saturday, but we abstained; stayed home and had a very restful day. On Sunday, Joe and family came up for an all-American Barbecue (hot dogs, cornbread and beans, salad stuff and watermelon); otherwise we did little celebrating on the outside. In our hearts, of course, we were quietly celebrating a great Democratic president and the newly seated senator from Minnesota!

We are getting ready for an excursion down to Santa Barbara next week; I have my annual physical checkup scheduled there, and it will be a chance to visit with siblings and friends. So even though we don't like to be away from our mountain greenery, we will enjoy a little Southern (CA) hospitality, I'm sure. We plan to stop overnight on the way, in Carmel Valley, and will research the venues available there for next July's family monster rally.

John still has too many chores on his List, so I've declared a Month Of Jubilee, for August. We have promised ourselves that during that time, we will do no chores beyond the absolute daily necessities; make no lists; tote no barges, lift no bales. We need to practice the ancient and honored art of Doing Nothing (Guilt-Free). I'll let you know how that goes! But if we can't make ourselves take a real "Stay-cation" this year, it's my opinion that we just need to get away, next summer, for a month. To this end, I'm wondering if anybody would like to trade homes with us for next August? As long as this trade was fairly equal (i.e., the trader lives in a nice place, is reasonably neat and fair with our property, and trusts us with theirs) I think it might be a great idea for all concerned.

Any interest? send me an email, or leave a comment below!

One Year Anniversary

We are celebrating! We felt that our first wonderful year in Boulder Creek deserved a special observation, so we have given ourselves a holiday – no work, no list-making, no administration; just fun.

We began with a little breakfast of fresh OJ and a short-stack of fine pancakes with warm fresh raspberry sauce. This repast was followed by the unexpected arrival of some big trucks with tree-men, and we watched them take down a couple of dead oaks in the neighbors' yard. As the noise became rather obnoxious, however, we decided to drive down to Santa Cruz and have a fancy lunch at an excellent Italian cafe in the center of town: we had a wild arugula and prosciutto salad, shared a small appetizer bowl of fresh clams in a wine/butter broth; and I had a half-order of cannelloni with a glass of Veneto pinot grigio (John had a mixed-seafood pasta). When we got home, neighbors came by with a dozen fresh eggs laid by their hens this morning -- another benefit of living in the country! Tonight we'll have a bit of bread and cheese and share a bottle of champagne, and we'll be off to sleep in the beautiful, cool evening that follows a delightfully sunny and mild day.

For all of you who have shepherded us to this peaceful valley, and for the Good Shepherd who watches over us all, we are eternally grateful, today and forever.