One More Different, Smaller, and a Very Electronic Christmas 2022

This year we decided to stay in Southern California, for Christmas, in our trailer/cottage in Palm Springs. There were lots of factors in making the decision. Most of Doug's kids had other plans, or just didn't have time to travel the 8 hours down here from the Bay Area, and we thought Doug was going to have a second cataract operation on the 21st, but then he changed his mind. My kids are both back east, and we just planned to communicate a lot by FaceTime  especially when my new grand baby would be born. Doug's two sons and 2 of the grandkids promised to drive down on the day after Christmas, but that left us alone, together for Christmas, opening up a couple of gifts wrapped in Amazon packaging. 

It's a good thing that we put up our solar Christmas lights, because before Christmas, Covid raised its ugly head once again. First, Doug tested positive and I tried to not get it by insisting I isolate myself by masking around him and sleeping in the tiny bedroom at the end of the trailer part of our home, as instructed by the doctor. He confessed later, however, that it was a relief to him that I finally tested positive! I guess that's okay, since we both had mild cases. Besides, it was difficult to be so strict when we were in such a small space. My symptoms were mostly exhaustion, everything tasted like garlic, and I had heartburn and nausea. He had a little fever for a couple of days, a headache, and general malaise. We just self-isolated and were brought gifts of homemade sour dough bread, cookies, and even a huge package of toilet paper, (which we had gotten dangerously low on), from friends and neighbors.

I kept trying to force myself to finish up the annual family calendar I put together, and then when they came, I set up my Mom's old card table in the kitchen to gradually wrap them and any other gifts that I had to send out in the mail. When I finally tested negative, I went to the post office to get some priority mail boxes to pack up all the families' gifts and treats so I could come back to stand, masked, in a surprisingly short line to send them off.

We had bought each other gifts that we both wanted, even before Christmas. Doug did a thorough study of mobility scooters to buy, since he enjoyed the one we rented in DC a few months before, and he suggested I get an Apple Watch, so I would get credit for any steps I do.

The scooter came with a caveat that it would have to be stored in our parlour, in front of the wall where I usually compose my "wall tree". I was still tired from Covid, so it didn't take too much convincing for me to let that go. We went to the Angel View Thrift Shop and came home with a little 3 foot fake tree, and covered it heavily with solar lights, and ornaments, and put it in our bedroom. Thank goodness the solar lights are almost worn out. They only work for a few hours and then have a faint twinkle for the rest of the night, not keeping us up. It sits next to our little table with a minimalist creche on it. We added a couple of cute sheep to it this year. They're very cute. The bigger one looks over at the manger, and the baby one looks at us, as if to say, "Are you paying attention?"

Doug loves his little red "scooter", he bought it with the idea that it would encourage him to walk more, rather than less. When we start out, I ride in the scooter, while he walks with his cane, and after about a block and a half, we switch so I can get some steps in. We're in the habit now of doing our walk/ride a few blocks over to the market, or CVS, or to eat lunch at our favorite restaurant, Mario's. I've learned to switch my watch over to the workout mode to get credit for my exercise. It's getting ridiculous, how I'm trying to "close up all my rings" now. Before Christmas, when we both had Covid, my watch seemed very disappointed in me, sitting in my chair and reading or taking a nap, since it urges you to get up for a minute every hour during the day. It's training me pretty well, and I keep on increasing my daily goals. One night before bed, I confess that I went outside to walk a few more steps to close up the move ring!

On Christmas Eve morning, I baked a double batch of Toll House chocolate chip cookies with added pecans and tart dried Montmorency cherries to hand out to friends and neighbors in our mobile park. I put 3 or 4 cookies each in ZipLoc bags and placed them in a beautiful red bag that a friend made for me, and we looked very festive as we did our walk/ride routine all around the neighborhood and visited with all the happy recipients of the cookies. I told them, "If you're lucky, you might get a tart dried cherry in a bite", since the cherries were in short supply. The next day, some folks came up and excitedly said, "And I got a cherry in mine!" 

On Christmas Eve, we went to a beautiful mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe, and I got teary eyed as  a little girl in a pretty red dress reverently walked down the aisle with Father Robert, holding the baby Jesus on a cushion, so  she could lay him in his manger. Between all the sparkly lights, and the beautiful singing of our favorite cantor, who we have dubbed, "Sings Like An Angel" singing Ave Maria, our Christmas was just about complete. 

When we got out to the car though, Doug said, "I don't want to go home to left over Chinese food tonight. Not on Christmas Eve!" He wanted to go someplace special, and his first choice was closed. I suggested a local "dive" bar, a Palm Springs classic, Pete's Hideaway. When we first got there, it was almost empty, except for an older woman all dressed up in her holiday garb at the end of the bar. "She said, "Oh! You're finally here!",  to which I curtsied, and then she said, "Oh, I thought you were someone else." We sat at the bar and had a cocktail, and toasted to each other, and then all the people who had reservations started arriving, and a singer came to start singing his holiday songs with his guitar. We decided to stay and share a plate of their Italian stuffed pasta dinner. A lovely time after all. 

Our Advent wreath.

Earlier in the day, we had decided that we would join in with our neighbors for a Christmas morning potluck, so I had to come up with a dish to bring. I just had to buy another dozen eggs, and I revised a Christmas sausage and egg and cheese casserole that I found online, similar to one that is usually served at my sister Lorraine's house on Christmas morning.

We also were invited to Doug's second cousin Greg's and his wife Julie's home in Desert Hot Springs at two on Christmas Day, so we had to leave the brunch early, having tried to not stuff ourselves. We were happy to actually have family to visit with on this special holiday. The desert is becoming pretty popular for retirees. A couple of members of my own family have moved down here recently too. Maybe we'll get together with them next year.

The story goes on.... Doug's sons John and Matt and our granddaughters Ava and Resie drove down to visit on December 26th in time for a dinner of what has been dubbed "Harboghetti". Then we all opened gifts to each other, so that seemed even more like a complete Christmas. 

John's better at electronic things than us, so he helped us to hook up an upgraded version of Roku that is voice activated for our TV. I had also surprised Doug with an Alexa, another toy that is voice activated, which he was delighted with. (He actually looked like a little boy on Christmas morning with a new train set.) He didn't think I would get one, since I had pooh-poohed the idea. John had to help install Alexa too, and then she, (if there really IS an Alexa), was probably tearing her hair out at all the ridiculous questions she was being asked, but she still happily answered. 

The weather cleared up for them one day for a nice day at the pool, since it's been unusually cloudy and rainy here. 

Doug went out to ride in a golfcart with them while Matt and Ava golfed, and I stayed home with Resie. We took a little walk, and then worked together on constructing a Disney Lego project out on the patio, and we accomplished it! 

The next day, we put together a nice ham dinner, and we've all done a good job of working on the great supply of holiday cookies, candies and treats that everyone brought. We're thinking of not looking at the scale for a few days.

Everything's quiet now. Our company is on their way home and we're feeling rather drowsy. Tomorrow night is New Year's Eve. Here's to a wonderful, and especially Peaceful 2023. 

New grand baby Thea and Petie

Wordle-ing

Probably most people who are in the habit of attempting the game, Wordle, once a day, just use their phones. I've found that I can't concentrate on finding the word within 6 tries by looking at the QWERTY keyboard displayed on the screen. I use a pen and paper, preferably one of my favorite BIC 4-color pens and a spiral notebook. It's probably seen by others as a little obsessive, but I enjoy writing down the 5 lines for blank spaces where the correct word will end up, and then quickly inscribing the alphabet in a fairly neat column. My husband Doug and I decided not to compete with each other on two phones, but rather to do it together, each with our own pen and paper. He'll do his figuring on any scrap of paper he can find, or on an old envelope. Every time we enter a guess, we have a silly habit that I do a drum roll with my tongue, and he taps his pen on the table, (somewhat irritating to me at times, since occasionally he starts his drum roll before I've even brought the game up on my phone!)

One time recently he said, "I don't have anything to write on. I'll just share your paper." That's when I realized how OCDish I had become about my own space. He started writing words we were going to try in the 5 spaces I had reserved for the final answer, and then CROSSING off the letters that didn't work....in MY SPACE! He also didn't have his own pen, and I had to wait my turn to use it.

Shocked to see what was happening, I said, "What are you doing??"

"It's just my way of figuring", he said.

I tried to be more sharing, starting to make a new set of 5 spaces for my own figuring. "Could you please keep away from my alphabet though? I have my own little system where I cross off the letters that are wrong, and put checks next to the ones that show up yellow, and are somewhere else in the word, see? And then I like to put a little square around the letter that's in the right place." "Hmm," he said.  finding that after our first guessed word, the 4th letter, O showed up green, and therefore in the correct spot,  I placed it there and put a square around it. He kept marking up my original spot, but seemed to get it that that my new area was now reserved only for me.

We continued to brainstorm, mentioning possible words, and sometimes catching each other in a mistake, like, "How about canoe?"  "Nope, there is no N", or "The E can be anywhere but the end." "Darn!", I say, but happy to have missed a close call, and not wasting a turn. Two brains ARE better than one.

The Wordle people are rather kind if a word is misspelled and not on their word list. For example, for some reason, I have it in my head to spell "bagel" wrong. I put in "bagle", and the letters wiggled on the screen, and said "not on word list", not penalizing us nor counting it as one of our guesses.

When we first started playing, Doug said, "There must be certain consonants that are in most words.", so he diligently looked up on Google what they recommended. "S, T, R, and N are the most common, so what do you think of starting with store or story as our first word? Yesterday's word ended in E, so maybe we should start with story, since it ends in y."

He always tries to bring logic into the game and tries to strategize. He realized that past words have most often been nouns. In the last few games, we feel that the maker of the puzzle at the New York Times, is messing with us and giving us the most obscure 5-letter words, leading us to choose the most uncommon one we can think of, or making us take a chance on repeating an already used letter. "Robot" was the word that introduced us to the fact that we could re-use a letter in another spot.

We were trying to up our game, since at first we thought we were beating the system by starting with "adieu" or "adios" as our first try, thinking that we should try out a lot of vowels first. Then we realized that very few words end in U, and we have yet to see a plural word, so both of those words are a waste of a perfectly good try. Can't have that.

A few months ago, I traveled to Washington DC to visit my daughter and new grandchild. Doug and I worried how we were going to keep up our streak of about 98 Wordles straight without losing when we were apart. I told him I didn't want to take the chance of breaking our winning streak by doing it on my own. We finally decided to talk on speaker phone together each day, discussing each word.

One evening I called Doug and we both had our pen and paper ready. I had him on speaker, as we discussed each word possibility . On the 5th try, we had E, O, and Y in their correct (green) spots. Jennie had been overhearing us making suggestions and we both agreed that "epoxy" would work. "But it can't be that," Doug worried, "It's a brand name!" It was a chance to take, but we took it, and thankfully, on the sixth try, it was right. My daughter said it was so hard for her to hear our conversations about it, since she had already done the game for the day. She was thinking, "Yes! It's a word! Go for it!" but all Wordlers are sworn to secrecy, so she painfully kept her mouth shut.

Then, I said, "I'll have to report into Lucas and Jen, (my son and daughter-in-law), to let them know how we did. We do this every day."

"What?", she exclaimed. "I want to be in on that too!" Sooner or later, we had her husband chiming in as well, all competing together. For me it's made the world seem a little smaller, since I'm in California and my kids are in New York and DC. Now our little group uses the text also to share photos of everything going on in our lives. 

Actually, after quite a lot of time, Doug and I are the main devotees to Wordle. We're retired, and they aren't, and we all think that the words are getting harder. I mean, tryst? midge? aphid? Really. 

If you've gotten this far in my story, it's probably because you like the game too. We've talked to friends about strategies, and some are as enthusiastic as we are, while I watch others' eyes glaze over at the thought of Wordle. We however, still make time in our day to try our hand at it, even though today we got frustrated and finally lost. All of our logic flew out the window, as we tried all the most obscure words first, finally losing to what we thought would be the most common one, "power"!

There will be days like that, but I guess I'll continue to inscribe the alphabet each day on my tablet. I think my kindergarten teacher would be proud.

In The Kitchen

We've lived in this old house for 33 years, and have been emptying it out, getting it ready to rent. The kitchen is one of the last rooms to evacuate, since we've still been cooking in it, but today is the day to empty the cupboards of food and pans, but for me, the memories are still there.
There are three of us working in the kitchen. My husband is changing the funky old knobs to cute chrome ones shaped like a cup and saucer and a teapot.

A friend is emptying out the cupboards so he can clean them, and putting the contents around the kitchen for me to sort through. I call my job "search and destroy", but it's not true. For each item, I have to decide if I want to keep it, (does it give me joy?)...... does someone else want or need it?..... Should I put it out in the changing pile of "leavings" that we've left by the curb for passers by to take?..... Can it be recycled?..... or, is it truly garbage?

The hardest part of this sorting for me, is to also consider if the item suits our mobile home in Palm Springs, or the condo at Lake Tahoe, or could we use it in the little "in-law" we're making for ourselves downstairs. Our kitchen there, will consist of a microwave, a crockpot, a coffee maker, a George Foreman Grill and an electric pot to heat tea water......no place for pots or pans. Storage is at a premium, so I have to be brutal, but if I have fond memories of an antique cookie sheet or muffin tin, I'll bring them to Palm Springs to replace things that were already in the kitchen when we bought the place. Things for entertaining go there too, since there are always a lot of pot lucks.

It must look as if I'm moving in slow motion, to my co-workers in the kitchen. I see the clutter on the counter of bowls and utensils and half used cleaning products growing, it's upsetting to me that I can't seem to keep up with the flow. My brain, in the meantime, keeps playing movies of times past. As I get out the muffin tins from a corner of the cupboards, I fondly remember the "apartment" that Tigger, our orange tabby had made in there. We found that he opened the cupboard door with his paw, crawled in and didn't come out. Turns out, he could see the side of the drawer that had dishtowels in it, and he reached into the drawer, and pulled out a few towels with his claw to make himself a nice little nest in the cupboard. I discovered his lair one time when I was suspiciously low on dishtowels. He watched as I cleaned it out, and in a few days, he had refurnished it.
Another time, I caught Tigger rubbing up against Tessa, our dog, and ending up with his head in Tessa's gentle open mouth!

The soon-to-be-replaced kitchen sink brings back a vision of a favorite photo of my kids, Jennie, 5, and Lucas 1-1/2, way back when, standing on chairs, "doing dishes". Lucas especially concentrated on the Tupperware cups that were unbreakable. Both of them had vintage child's aprons on, and Jennie's hair cascaded down to her waist. This has always been one of my favorite photos, and it has been the problem with getting this story done. It has gotten temporarily lost in this huge shuffle we're in the midst of, but when I find it I'll add it in. I promise.
The kitchen sink was also captured when someone got a picture of Polly, our cherry headed conure (one of our menagerie) perched on my back as I washed my hair.

This reminds me of more animal activity in the kitchen, which, when I think about it, was pretty common.

A few cocktail glasses appeared on the counter. Some were Christmas glasses with poinsettias on them, that would probably be sent to Goodwill.....but others were etched glass, ones that had been brought over from Hawaii, when Helen "Tutu" and Wally, "Grandpa" came over on the Lurlene, a cruise ship that brought my kid's Dad, Walt, at 3 years old, laiden with leis, to the mainland.

 I remember in 1998.. ., Wally was gone, Helen lived with me, and when I came home from a days work at Kaiser, I'd find her sitting in the old rocking chair in my kitchen, decked out in a nice Muu-Muu with matching nail polish, and sometimes a silk lei. While I jumped right in to cooking dinner, still in my scrubs, I told her what happened at work that day. She told me what happened at the house, and we had cocktails. We made up our own, one time calling a tequila and apple juice drink a "Juanie Appleseed". Good times.

There were so many other memorable things that happened in this old kitchen. Lucas shot magnetic darts past my back onto a target on the refrigerator as I did the dishes when he was 5, and Jennie practiced her shuffle-ball-change on the linoleum when she was seven. I truly hope that the new family that moves into this home has as many wonderful, wholesome memories in this kitchen and in all the other rooms. God bless them.

Palm Springs Musings

Twelve years ago, I met my husband. Just a few months later, we traveled to Palm Springs together to see his elderly mom. She was being cared for by his stepsister and her husband. I was happy to see that she was in such good, loving hands in her own home.... even though she was in a hospital bed. This made a good impression on me, that he hadn't put her in a nursing home. I had experienced caring for my relatives and thought it was an humane thing to do, (even though, admittedly, it could be difficult at times.)

We visited his Mom at the mobile home park where she had lived with her husband as "snowbirds". They traveled there from Washington state for the warm winter in Palm Springs for 23 years. Her brother visited at the same time with his wife, and he was teary-eyed to see his sister in what seemed to be a failing state. He spoke a little Dutch in her ear, as she lay there with her eyes closed.

Doug's family of 5 kids have many fond memories of traveling during the holidays to visit Grandma and Grandpa for a nice warm Christmas. They stayed with them at their mobile home, swimming in the pool and enjoying a great Christmas dinner. Their grandparents were popular, involved, making friends at happy hour with the Canadian "Snowbirds", and played in tournament shuffleboard.

After holding his Mom's hand and in a spiritual sense, bonding with her and meeting her, we went out for awhile. Doug said later, "I just love that trailer park! That's where I'd like to retire some day!" 

"Hmm", I said, "I don't think so.... at least I wouldn't."

Doug seemed very hurt.

The next part of the story is 11-1/2 years later.

We got married 10 years ago. I retired from my job a while ago, and then we worked together to close his store in Berkeley and he retired a year later.

Standing in the closed store.

One of the trips we took was to Palm Springs, for a week, but it was too cold....not at all the experience we had hoped for.  I said,"It doesn't even feel like we've been to Palm Springs!"

Doug had the idea to see what was going on at the mobile park. We went to visit his sister, but she was very busy. There was a shuffleboard tournament going on, and she was taking in the money for the bbq burgers, pie, etc that were being sold. There were lots of happy people mingling around.

We visited with some of them, and Doug said, "I wonder if there's a place we could rent for a week or so. There's supposed to be a warming trend."

When asked, folks said, "Nope, there's nothing for rent."

Those were fighting words to Doug. He pulled a map off the bulletin board of the park, and to prove them wrong, we drove up and down each street, looking for a "for rent" sign. The only sign was a faded "for sale" sign, and it had a phone number. A friendly neighbor came up to our car and said, "Call the number! Maybe they'll let you rent it!"

We did. The owner said he would come meet us the next morning. He was driving from San Diego and was late. We opened the gate and sat in the yard, waiting, and imagining what it would be like to stay there. Folks started coming in the open gate, since it hadn't been open for so long and was for sale! Luckily, everyone was gone when the owners came, and we signed a week-to-week lease for 2 weeks. 

Just then, a man came in and said he wanted to buy the place! Within a few minutes, our lease was turned over, and we had a new landlord. We could still stay the two weeks.

This was a great time. We got to know the community, and I figured out that they had a library, an exercise room, and  we joined the aqua-size class in the huge, warm pool. It was filled daily with friendly Canadian couples and their families, seniors who had lived there for years, and also friendly Gay men. Everyone seemed to get along famously.

The location is also fabulous. The Palm Springs Senior Center and the public library are right across the street, and all the stores, cafes, that you could ever need, including a frozen yogurt shop. There's even a thrift shop within walking distance, plus many, many more within the city. (It's amazing how excited I get about a thrift store. Doug calls me a "cheap date"). Plus, the weather, six months a year is lovely, encouraging folks to dress as if they're on a tropical island. The spectacular view of the close-by San Jacinto Peak is fascinating to look at as the sun sets behind it early every night at around 4 pm, providing a very long twilight.

Doug's sister, also a resident, "had her ear to the ground", and found out that someone in her neighborhood was looking to sell soon. She thought that Doug would be too tall for this darling place, but he wasn't. 

When we first saw this '55 Columbia Trailer with a long room with vaulted ceilings added on each side, I first thought of my Grandma Diddo's "Greenhouse" in Capitola. It looked like a beach house to me, and was artistically decorated from many garage sales. I told the owner, "I feel like I've gone to a thrift shop, I like everything, and I can have it ALL!'

We made a quick decision to buy it, at what we think is a very reasonable price. Many new cars cost less! We had looked around at other places that might be coming on to the market soon, but I kept holding on to the idea of the "beach house". It didn't look like any of the others to me, and Doug soon knew that this was the one for us. (Especially since I had had such an aversion to trailers before.....he thought he'd better go with what I liked!)

We drove back up to the Bay Area to tend to business, and couple of weeks later we were moved in. Participating in the Park's rummage sale, we sold all we didn't need that the owner left. We went to a dance (and danced!), and we swam again in the aqua-size class with fun people we've come to call friends. Within 2 weeks, we both bought bicycles and were practicing on the nice flat terrain.

Pat with our colorfully painted wall.

This little cottage has been anointed as "ours", since we painted the cinder block wall surrounding our patio in desert colors of olive, rust, bamboo, and marigold. We named the huge palm tree on our patio, "Connie", since the previous owner planted it. (She cried when I told her, saying, "You guys are so sweet!)

Doug with the newly painted door at our "cottage".

We are not snowbirds, but rainbirds, we say, since we only escape the rain of the East Bay, in Northern California, rather than the iced over lakes and deep snow of Canada. Alas, there are only 5 or 6 months that you can appreciate the nice warm climate of Palm Springs. Snowbirds are heading north now, telling us tales of how to "close down" our winter home. 120 degree temps have been known to melt plastic salt and pepper shakers and weather and dry up bicycle tires. After interviewing several folks at the pool, we followed instructions and put two big garbage cans full of water in each side of the cottage. They say when we return in October, the water will be almost gone! This keeps up the humidity during the hottest temps. We also had to put mineral oil in the toilet, and then cover the tank and the seat with plastic wrap, so that the water doesn't evaporate too quickly, allowing animals to find their way in....!

The previous owner left covers for all the windows to put on the inside, with the foil facing outward to deflect the sun. A good neighbor will be coming around to water my "test" plants, succulents, lantana, feather grasses, and bougainvilia. A lot of those are planted all over Palm Springs, so I opted to be safe. We'll see if anything's left when we come back.

"Connie" our palm tree with view from the patio.

 God Bless you little cottage. We'll miss you. Be safe.

Staycation in Half Moon Bay....Number 2

It's Saturday, October 26, 2013, and as we drove home to Richmond from Half Moon Bay today, we felt very smug. There was no traffic going our direction on Hwy 92, yet cars filled with families setting out for the coast to check out the pumpkin farms were barely moving, backed up all the way to Hwy 280. They must not have checked their GPS. We wished we could tell them to turn around and get a pumpkin at Safeway.
Doug and I had the time to spend during the week at Half Moon Bay, and went to the best pumpkin patch around. It's called Arata's Pumpkin Patch. Some will be disappointed because they no longer have the big hay maze they were famous for, and now have a corn maze. I spotted a lookout tower that I think is used to look down on the maze to make sure everything's okay. This year I don't think it was needed, since I could see the adults heads above the corn. Kids were having fun in the petting zoo with the goats, and there were some good looking snacks to buy, but we weren't hungry. Just know that everything has a price. We made it out really cheap since we only bought one of their many assorted pumpkins, called a "turban"... and we didn't have kids with us.

The reason we go to Half Moon Bay is to stay at a favorite place of ours, The Cypress Inn. It's one of the "Inns by the Sea", and after you've stayed there one time, vacations are half off for you and your friends. This one is located near Miramar Beach, right on the coastal trail, and the sea is literally right in front of the Inn. It comes complete with an "innkeeper", Reg, who has hot and cold appetizers, crudites and cheeses, and lots of wine and other beverages for us to have our way with at 5:00 pm. We count this as our dinner.
At  7 pm, Reg brings out a homemade dessert, such as Apple Crisp with vanilla ice cream. Yum!
In the morning, you have a choice of breakfast brought to your room on a tray, or being served in the lobby by the fire and visiting with the other guests. There's always fresh fruit, an assortment of croissants and breads, yogurt, and sausages, plus something cooked to order, like Eggs Benedict or a big egg, potato, cheese burrito. We figure that with all the food we're given, the room runs about $90.!
And then there's the view...

This time, we made sure to spend the night on a Thursday so we could listen to our favorite piano player, Terry Disley, play his songs at the Miramar Restaurant, only about a 2 block walk along the trail. We're always delighted to hear his renditions of everything from Beatles tunes to Gershwin and listen to him speak with his great English accent. I suppose we might be becoming "groupies" since this time we bought a CD and had our picture taken with him!

The next day we had time to take a drive further down the coast and have lunch at a usual haunt, The Paradise Grill, at Capitola Beach. The locally grown Watsonville artichoke marinated in spices and stuffed with tons of shrimp salad and served with Caesar dressing was luscious!
We were fascinated by the unusual amount of seagulls that were bathing in the end of the San Lorenzo River. The restaurant's patio looks out on it and the Capitola Venetian Court, a scenic attraction. There were SO MANY birds...layers of them, now some pelicans, flying over the sand and out over the ocean and beyond the pier....it was like being in "The Birds"!

The hordes of birds were fun to look at, but most folks didn't venture out on to the sand for fear of getting bombed. We sat on a bench for awhile and observed more pelicans diving for food, sometimes 4 or 5 would splash into the water at the same time. Even some seals were barking and getting in to the action. On our iPhone, we discovered that there were schools of anchovies that they were all going after.
I had a kind of embarrassing thing happen as we sat on a bench  by the beach. A woman near me said to her husband. "Look honey! I think the splashes are fish jumping out of the water to be eaten by the birds!"
Well, since we had been sitting there so long and had the whole thing figured out, I said, "Actually the penguins are diving down into the water to eat the schools of anchovies!" She looked at me kind of funny and they walked away. I slowly turned to Doug and re-listening in my mind to what I had uttered, said, "Did I just say 'penguin'?" He nodded. There I go, being Miss Smarty Pants, and come out with the wrong word! Oh well.....
Another reason to come to Capitola was to buy myself a nice new silver ring, since I had lost one and my finger felt naked. I have a fat finger, so most of the little shops didn't have my size 10 ring and they all refered me to Super Silver Capitola, where they had 3 Trays of size 10 rings! Everything was 1/2 off as well, and I love a sale! It's a good thing that I wanted something simple and light, since they sell rings by their weight. Doug was once again impressed with my frugality.
Even ANOTHER place drawing us to Capitola was Petite Provence, on Bay Ave. I looked online for vinyl coated fabric with French prints that I had seen in Provence a few years ago. This is part of my plan to jazz up our patio. I'm going to cover the patio table with a beautiful yellow and red poppy pattern that also has painting of lavender on it. Check out their website to see the beautiful designs. I bought the fabric by the yard instead of a ready-made tablecloth, and I'll tack it right on. It should last 10 years in the elements, or so the owner said.
When it was time to head for home, we drove up the coast, watching more and more flocks of pelicans gathering and diving for their anchovie lunch.

Next stop, after a little traffic going back across the new Bay Bridge in SF, was home. We brought out a gift that Doug bought me, a great free-standing hammock. We bought it in Half Moon Bay and the wonderful Twice Is Nice Store, where they have seconds from Costco at unbelievable prices. It popped together with no assembly required.
As my Grandma Diddo used to say....

                                                                  "Ain't life Grand?!"

Travels With Our Prius, Part 6: The Great Pestigo Fire of 1871 (rated PG for horror)

After spending a night in a campground in Peshtigo, Wisconsin, my husband and I were encouraged to visit the Peshtigo Fire Museum. It wasn't hard to find, since most streets have signs pointing visitors in the right direction. The Great Fire is the claim to fame for the little town that actually had to rise from the ashes of despair, since about 7/8th of the population was killed within an hour and a half on the evening of October 8th, 1871.

The people of Peshtigo want everyone to know about this tragedy. We were shocked to hear that it happened on the very same night of the Great Chicago Fire, which killed 250 people, and has the added legend of Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicking over a lantern to start it all. Peshtigo was isolated for a couple of days, without news being spread, since all forms of communication had been damaged. Within less than 2 hours, at least 1500 people had died....perhaps up to 2500 folks due to records having been destroyed.

It had been a mill town, using the technique of "slash and burn" to clear plots of land. The mills in town had piles of sawdust around them, and the town's streets were covered with even more sawdust.
There had been a drought, and many small wildfires had been starting up, and put out as fast as possible by men with buckets.  For two weeks before the big fire, a woman who lived on the outskirts of town told her children that "the sky was so smoky from the wildfires that the sun couldn't shine through". The clothes on her line looked grey and the smoke made it hart to breathe. The location of their home saved their lives so they could tell their story.

They said that at 8:30 p.m., the "heavens opened up and it rained fire". Men dropped their buckets and ran to try to save their own families. Someone said, "It was like the air was on fire!" Clad in nightgowns and caps, they "shrieked with horror as the fire engulfed their loved ones and they saw them burned alive." Some folks jumped down their wells for safety, but were boiled alive.

Hundreds of people felt that the Peshtigo river, already at a low ebb was their only chance. So many parents led their families into the water, followed even by their cattle, horses and pigs. Unfortunately, the bridge over the river became compromised by the raging fire and succumbed to the weight of carriages and horses and fell in to the river to crush those under it.

Some made it through the night and the next day, staying in the river, trying to stand securely on the mucky river bottom or holding on to horses, or whatever they could. Still, the river wasn't safe, for "swooping sparks and bits of fire dropped out of the sky burning entire bodies". Still a rushing river, some citizens died of hypothermia in the frigid water.

A nice story out of this tragedy, is that Father Pernin, of the Catholic church in town, rescued the Tabernacle, which holds the communion host (Christ's body) from the church and brought it down to the river. It was found later, floating in the reeds, untouched by fire, and not even smelling of smoke. It is on display at the Fire Museum in Peshtigo, encased in plexiglass, good as new.

There have been several theories of how this inferno enveloped so many lives so fast. The true cause is uncertain. Between drought, wildfires in the area, the fact the town was rife with sawdust, kindling for the fire. Studies by weather historians suggest there may have been meteorite falls to add to the possibilities. Other scientists say that there were several fires that occurred that day in Illinois, Michigan and Wisconsin that could have been caused by the impact of fragments from the Comet Biela.
When it comes down to a root cause, no external source of ignition was actually needed. On the day of the fire, a cold front moved in from the West fanning the smaller fires, starting the firestorm. It raged hotter than a crematorium, turning sand into hot glass.There were reports that the firestorm generated a tornado so powerful that it threw rail cars and houses into the air.  A wall of flame, a mile high, five miles wide, traveling at 90-100 mph, covered 1.5 million acres of forest and prairie till there was nothing left to burn.

A very welcome and heavy rain finally fell the next day, calming the fire. In the days ahead, the father of the family mentioned before who lived on the outskirts of town, came with others to pick up the dead and make rough boxes in which to bury them. As many as 5 bodies from one family shared a casket, since they were reduced to only bones.  Others weren't burned, they just suffocated from the intense hot air. Up to 350 bodies that couldn't be identified are buried in a mass grave, in the memorial cemetery outside the museum in Peshtigo.
So there. I've told about a piece of history that is little known. Sorry if it was hard to take.
God bless the souls of the people of Peshtigo.

Butterfly, Oh Flutter By!

Oh Butterfly, thank you for choosing our yard as your own!
I look to the sky on any day, and I see you.
Even when I look down, your shadow floats by
My heart melts at the sight, endearing my closeness to you.

I watch you flutter around the edge of the property like a sentry guarding the perimeter.
Then you pose on a chair till I say, "Look at that there!"...
...but not long enough to snap a picture.

Once more around the yard, and then you tease me,
pausing on a branch of a bush that I'm pruning.
Your yellows and black show off the blue spot on each wing,
like a jewel encased in a setting.

As you sit on the branch, your wings pump slightly for balance,
about to take off again, I'm betting.

Oh sweet Butterfly, do your dance. Flutter by. Fly for me.
Guard our yard if you think you must, from those tiny intruders.
Little moths give you chase,
then you fly like an ace, protecting us from the marauders.

As I sit in my chair, I imagine one day that you'll come to land on my finger.
I'll be patient, and quiet.
I am kind. I can wait.
I have time for you to come sit on my finger...and linger.