Our Prius "Camper"

Whenever we tell folks that when we camp, we sleep in our Prius, they say, "What? But you're so tall! How could you do it?" Well, for one thing, the clincher that helped my husband in deciding whether or not to even purchase a Prius is to make sure that we could sleep in it. He secretly took measurements before even letting me know he was interested, so as to not get my hopes up, only to be dashed. The newer version, in 2004 fit the bill, and we test drove it around Berkeley. The salesman wondered outloud, "Why is it that all of the Berkeley people want to make sure that the car is long enough to sleep in?" 

Well, we both liked the idea, since in our former lives we had enjoyed long trips across country. Mine was in an oxidized red '69 Dodge van made in to a camper, and his was in an Austin Estate Wagon. We both like saving money on motels, and we have fond memories of waking up in the morning to birdsong and cooking breakfast outdoors. Coffee tastes best that way.

This was the beginning of the hybrid craze. and we were right with the folks wanting to do everything they could to save the planet. The idea of saving money on gas made it even a sweeter deal. The Prius was so popular though, that Toyota couldn't seem to keep up with the demand. If we had wanted a certain color, the time for it to be delivered couldn't be promised, but if we took one of the next ones that were delivered to the dealership, we could get it sooner. When they came, they were all silver. Oh well, we weren't that picky.

Our first adventure was on a trip to Lake Tahoe, just a 3-1/2 hour drive from the Bay Area. We were one of the first in line at Emerald Bay campground, since it was on a  first come, first served basis . We scored a place right near one of the restrooms,  to make life easier for nighttime bathroom needs. We put our food in a bear locker, and then went out to shop for the rest of our supplies. Unsure of the level of propane we had for our camp stove, we bought a new canister, some tall Jesus candles to light our table at night, some pre-made shish kebobs to barbeque, and of course, Peet's coffee for in the morning. Doug found a deal on some Jameson's Irish Whiskey to warm us around the fire later.

Spotting a sign for Fallen Leaf Lake on the way back from our shopping excursion to South Lake Tahoe, Doug said, "Let's go check that out! I haven't been there for years. We've got time." So we turned off of Hwy. 89 and drove past the Fallen Leaf Campground, down the road pointing to the little lake. It became a very windy road and mostly one lane, forcing us to pull way over into the grass to let cars and trucks pass by. We finally made it to the end, saw the lake and turned around to go back, when it started to rain. Really hard. 

We turned on our lights and had the windshield wipers going at full speed, as we carefully navigated the curves in the other direction. Glad to be through that and back out to 89, it started hailing! Huge, golf ball chunks of ice rained down on us, and we pulled over to the side for protection under some pine trees, afraid that our poor new car may get dented. After about a half an hour, a drizzly rain resumed, and we ventured out to our reserved campsite, wondering if we should just get a motel room.

Our campsite hadn't fared very well. We sat in the car and took in the situation. The path to the restroom was flooded, and of course the picnic table was all wet. Doug looked at the radar app we had on our phone, and saw that it looked like the storm was headed north and should stop soon. He said, "Hold on. I'll be right back", as I saw him lift up the hood on his jacket, and run to the back of the car. He was back in a jiffy, a little damp, with our two camping wine glasses, the Jameson's, some crackers, two sticks of string cheese, and a newspaper. "Let's just sit here and wait it out. I don't think it'll be that long." 

I conceded that I'd give it a try, but started to dream of a hot bath in a hotel. We sat there, having a little early happy hour, at 4 pm, and did one of our favorite pastimes together.... the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. Doug specializes in the historical clues and I get the more modern answers. He kept glancing at the MyRadar app on our phone to keep an eye on the storm and bet that it would pass by in about a half hour. I looked at the pond that had formed between us and the restroom, still thinking about that hot bath.

 In about 45 minutes, sure enough, the sun came out. Doug opened the car door saying, "Let's go out and build a campfire! I put our firewood in the bear cabinet, so it will be dry." 

Wow, I thought. He really wants to do this. I put away our snacks, and stepped out, gingerly avoiding the puddle that had formed outside my door. I got out our camp chairs, and positioned them next to the fire pit, where he was busily balling up the green sports section of the newspaper to help start the fire. He got out his axe and chipped off some pieces from the pine logs for kindling. 

I ventured off to see how the restroom fared. There was still a pretty deep puddle between us and it, but there was a hill in the middle of it, providing me with a narrow path to navigate my way there. I decided to bring one of the tall Jesus candles with me, and my flashlight, since it was starting to get dark. Setting the candle at the center of the drier path seemed like a good idea to be able to find my way back without stepping into a pool on either side. When I got to the open door, I heard something inside, and a raccoon came running out. I guess he found a nice place to be in the storm! On the way back on the lighted path, I could see the glow of our campfire, and Doug sitting next to it, happily arranging our shish kebobs on a little rack that we carry with us. "See?", he said, "Everything is perfect!"

After a satisfying dinner, sitting in our nice, dry camp chairs near the fire, and a couple of more Jameson's with water, we thought we'd better get busy on our usual chores. Water was heating on our camp stove so I could do the dishes, which I don't mind doing at all when we're camping, since it warms up my chilly hands. 

Doug is the one who tends to our sleeping arrangement. He put as much as he could of our supplies in the bearproof cabinet, and then carried over the small hassocks he bought at Bed, Bath and Beyond that we store our camping supplies in. He made the front seats of the Prius go all the way forward, and placed the boxes on the floor behind them so they filled in the foot space. Then the backs of the seats are folded down, and our foam futon mattress goes on top. As I placed the washed dishes upside down on a dishtowel to dry on the picnic table, I could see him working with the dome light illuminating the inside of the car, and my heart melted. He was arranging our sleeping bags and pillows lovingly and folding back the corners to invite us to bed. All that would be missing was a little piece of chocolate on our pillow.

He had arranged our small suitcases and backpacks on the front seats, so we did what we needed to do to get ready for bed while standing outside the car. No one else seemed to be close by in the campground, I guess they chickened out because of the rain. One more trip over to the restroom with a flashlight, and I noticed that the pond was shrinking already and that the path was a little wider. I put on my jammy bottoms and a t-shirt and filled a bottle with water for us for the night, and walked back to our little nest.  I could see it, glowing ahead of me. Doug had added a colorful throw on top of the sleeping bags, and it looked so cozy. 

As I climbed in, I noticed that he had lowered the two back windows so we wouldn't suffocate, so that was good. We snuggled under the covers and looked up at the grey ceiling, feeling very satisfied and proud of ourselves, stretching our long bodies out comfortably. "And they said it couldn't be done", he said, and turned out the dome light.

I dozed off, but about a half hour later, I thought I heard something outside. "I think I might be hearing a bear!", I whispered, jostling him awake. 

"It's okay", he said drowsily, " They can't get to us in here. Don't worry. Go back to sleep"

I tried to relax, but heard more rustling, and remembered what the ranger at the little museum over at D.L.Bliss State Park told us about how many bears there were around Tahoe. She said that they can smell things like candy and even perfume, and want to break in to get them. "Remember what the ranger said about bears?", I said, poking him once more.

"Oh honey, go to sleep please. I put all of our food in the bear-proof cupboard. We'll be fine."

After thinking a moment, I remembered the candy I always had stashed in my backpack, and the bag of Werther's that we keep in the compartment between the seats for snacks on the road. "I'm remembering the candy we have in here."

"What? You want a piece now?"

"No! Just what if the bear wants to come and get some? What will we do? He could put his big claws inside the open window and pull it out! We have to have a plan!

"A bear can't do that." I could hear sleepiness and a little annoyance in his voice.

"I'm gonna rollup my window and open the one in the front a little so at least his claws won't be so close to my face," I whispered. But when I tried that, "Oh no! It won't go up without the power on!" 

I struggled loose of my warm sleeping bag, and moved my pillow out of the way, to reach between the front seats to the dashboard. Doug opened his eyes to see my pajamaed rear end wriggling past his face as I stretched to reach the power button. "Now what are you doing?", he asked sleepily.

"I have to figure out how to reach the brake pedal with one hand, and then press the power button, right?", I said with my head under the steering wheel.

"Sweetheart, I think if you just press the power button twice it'll work the windows. I read it in the manual."

"Ooh. That's easier!" It worked, and I readjusted the windows to my satisfaction. "I know! We could also honk the horn and turn on the red hazard lights! I think bears wouldn't like to see all that commotion."

"Yes dear." I hate it when he says that. "Are you ready for bed now?"

"Not really, after all that workout, but I feel safer anyway." I couldn't envision sleeping, but snuggled back under the covers, spooning Doug, my face totally buried in his shirt, trying to get my nose warm.

And then it was morning.

Visitations

 It was a busy day at Lowe's garden department. The employees complained that too many plants had been delivered, and it was hard to keep them all watered. Customers were just filled with the hope of Spring and happy to see the abundance of flowers and bushes, even if there wasn't a sale. I had chosen a beautiful white rose, that I couldn't resist, with lots of promising looking buds on it. It even attracted the comments of other shoppers I passed, as if it was a cute baby riding in my cart.

I took my place in the long checkout line, and watched, as an older woman came through the doors from the patio pushing a flatbed cart with things she had chosen. Gosh, I thought, she looks so much like Helen, my mother-in-law who passed away in 1999. Her white, naturally curly, short hair and colorful clothes brought back memories of "Tutu", and made me feel good. 

Then, "Oh!", my heel had been run into by a cart behind me.....and there she was!!

"Oh my goodness! Did I hurt you?"

"It's not bad. Don't worry." She had made a quick u-turn to get into line behind me.

"You know", I said, "I'm glad to be able to talk to you, because when you came in the door, you reminded me of my mother-in-law. I haven't seen her for a long time."

"Oh my! I hope that is a Good thing!" she said with a little wink.

"It definitely is. We were great friends. I've even been wearing her wedding band on my finger for the last couple of weeks. It's made me feel closer to her."

We chatted about the flowers we bought and how busy it was, and I noticed her nice wrinkly Irish face, and her sparkling blue eyes. Hi Tutu, I thought. As I left, I told her how nice it was to meet her, and almost asked for her name. Then I thought better of it. It would have been too weird if it had been Helen.

I'm remembering another time I "saw" Helen. I was shopping at a Long's Drugs, looking for the perfect shampoo. A lady near me started chatting with me about which one to choose, there were so many types. Once again, the curly white hair and familiar face and attitude. I said, "My goodness, you certainly look a lot like my mother-in-law!"

She said, "All my life people have said I reminded them of Janet Gaynor. You probably don't know who she was."

"Actually I do! My Helen always said she was mistaken for that actress, since they were about the same age when she became popular in the movies in the 30's. Now I can see why there's such a resemblance! Thanks for talking to me first, it's exactly what Helen would have done. She was always so friendly to strangers."

This has happened to me at other times. Years ago in a church where my family attended. My husband, with teary eyes, elbowed me as he watched someone coming down the aisle. I looked and sure enough, a salty haired man who was identical to Wally, my father-in-law, took the seat a couple of pews ahead of us. Wally had passed away a few years before. Every so often we'd see the man again, never having a conversation, but aways nodding at each other and remembering.

One other time, when I worked as a waitress at a Baker's Square, a woman came in for lunch who reminded me of my Grandma Diddo. Talking to her, her voice sounded so familiar, even with the little chuckle I recall. I confessed to her what I was thinking, and she thought it was nice. After that she always asked to sit in my section, and sometimes I'd even say, "Bye Diddo" as she left. She'd smile.

What does all this mean? Probably nothing. They were all just what I call a visitation, a surprising little gift from God. I've heard that when a hummingbird comes and flutters near your face, it's called a visitation. This may be something a little bit more. My little visits bring back fond memories of loved ones, and make me think that perhaps they want me to still be thinking about them, and praying for them.

Helen "Tutu" and me

Wally Romer with baby Walt

Even Another Different Covid Christmas in 2021: Typhoid Patty!

 Thanksgiving went very smoothly in Palm Springs. Most of Doug's family came down from the Bay Area, and we all mingled very happily together. All of us were vaccinated, but we ate at yet another relative's home.....some of whom were anti-vaxers, having our celebration outdoors just to be safe. 

Soon after everyone left we started getting into the Christmas spirit,

putting up lights, our advent wreath, my "wall tree", and our little makeshift manger scene.

But soon, Christmas became a whole other deal since the Omicron virus raised its stupid head. We decided instead, to cancel our plane reservations in order to reduce our risk of exposure, and drove up to the Bay Area, in tandem with son Matt and his daughter Ava, who had been visiting us for a couple of days. 

We stopped for the night in Bakersfield, and the next morning I was delighted to find a See's Candy store in town. One more thing to knock off my list of things to do. The line was uncomfortably long, and indoors, but everyone was masked and in a cheery, holiday mood, once we all inhaled the fine aroma of chocolate. We all started chatting together about our favorite pieces of candy we would include in our specially picked boxes, and all looked forward to the free pieces of candy we would receive at the end. The lady next to me in line had some sort of chronic lung condition, was coughing occasionally, and was very enthusiastic. I was happy she was masked because of Covid, but she alone impressed me when she ordered her boxes. She chose several pieces and then when they were almost full, she said to the masked, gloved and hair-netted See's lady, "Now just sprinkle the milk chocolate covered raisins all around to fill it in."    What?, I thought. then I realized...we're paying by the pound, not the piece! My boxes were all sealed, but next time....

 We listened to the news on the car radio, and as more and more Omicron cases were reported, our plans kept changing. What started out as a big family potluck on Christmas Eve at one of their homes, with all 5 of my husband's kids and the grandkids, and even my son flying in from New York, was evolving minute by minute. We had a Zoom meeting to get everyone's fears out on the table.

It was decided that we shouldn't all be inside in a house together eating, drinking, talking, laughing, and exchanging gifts.....so what to do? We talked to different ones on the phone as we drove. One family decided to bow out since they all had bad colds. Since it was scheduled to rain that day, it looked more and more like we were going to meet in a park under cover of pop-up tents, and order pizza for our Christmas Eve dinner. Ho Ho Ho! Sounds festive, eh? One son volunteered to bring a camp stove along to at least make the traditional hot mulled wine and hot cider, vowing to make this a special occasion no matter what.

We were supposed to stay with one of the families, but felt they wouldn't want to take any chances, so my sister, who we were already scheduled to spend Christmas morning with, along with my son, told us to come stay with her. Phew! Still on our drive up California, we got a call that my son's wife felt really ill and had just tested positive for Covid in New York! By the next morning, he decided he'd better not get on a plane after being exposed, and that they would just stay home and have Christmas together.

As we neared my sister's house, I told Doug that it would probably be reassuring to her and her husband if we used the Rapid Tests that we brought with us to show them that we were fine. Telling her of this plan, we asked that they leave the back door open so we could go directly to our room at the other end of the house. We'd see them in about 15 minutes. The house smelled wonderful, of something scrumptious cooking in the kitchen. 

The tests came two in a pack, and I did my test first, setting the little vial with its test strip in the one hole provided. In order to do Doug's test though, I picked up my vial and held it while his marinated the appropriate time, and set the alarms on our phones. I became antsy, the 10 minutes dragging on, and swirled the liquid around, tilting it a bit to see if I could see if a pink line was forming under the label. When my time was up, we said, "Drum roll!", and we're shocked to see that my test strip had a VERY pink line on it! "I'm positive! I can't believe it!", I said, "But I feel so good!" I sat on the side of the tub with my head in my hands worrying about what to do.

Doug's timer went off, and his had no sign of pink at all. Hmm. What to do? We had been joking that I would come out and announce that "I'm negative,......but the funny thing is, I'm pregnant!" That joke wouldn't work any more.

We came out and stood one room apart, hearing my niece say, "Here they come!" and "Uh-oh you're wearing masks!" We told them our news. My sister kept saying that she didn't believe the results. I got on the phone to try to get a Kaiser advice nurse to tell me where I could get a quick, official test, but was on hold for over a half an hour, finding out that the testing was being scheduled too far out and then wouldn't come back till another day.  By the time I reported back with my findings, still keeping my distance, my brother-in-law's sister was putting her jacket on, and announcing that she had to leave, (because of me), and my niece took her back to her hotel.

My sister suggested that I take another test, since I had two more, so we went back to the other end of the house to our room, and I re-read the instructions for the test. Hmm. It Did state that the vial must be kept still, so I swabbed the inside of my nose the appropriate way, put the vial in the holder, inserted the test strip as if I was a lab technician, and left the room to work on some of the gifts I had brought for people, adding some of the See's milk chocolate balls to some. When the timer went off, Doug and I stared at the strip together. No PINK! 

"We're FREE!!", we said, as we returned to the Christmas clad living room, holding a box of chocolates. "Evidently it was a false positive! Can we hug you now?"

Everything proceeded as planned then. Doug was pleased to find that the wonderful aroma we had smelled  when we arrived was a tender roast beef, and we visited and laughed and ate and drank, all happy to be together after all.

The next morning, Christmas Eve day, I thought I'd better use my last test, just to be able to reassure Doug's family. Very carefully, I repeated the steps, but was shocked to find a very faint pink line! The instructions stated that even if it was very light, it was counted as positive! "I feel fine though!", I repeated. My sister assured me that she could hardly see it, but I wondered about how Doug's family would react. We went ahead and the four of us ate breakfast together, choosing our fruit, yogurt and cereal, and little ginger scones, and making frothy warm milk for our coffee, comfortably sitting at the long table reading the two papers they have delivered. 

Turns out it didn't rain that day, and since we would be outside in the park, it looked like our party with Doug's kids would happen. Just to be prudent, I sent a text out to all five kids about my false positive test fiasco, and confessed that the last one that morning was a very faint pink. We packed up our gifts and headed off to Berkeley to pick up son John. Grace had said that she would bring along the calendars I had made and had delivered to her house. While we waited in the car, for John to come out with his gifts, we received two notices, that the other two girls' families didn't want to take the chance of being around me. John and Matt still wanted to get together, so we drove a few miles back to get the calendars and leave off gifts, all masked up. Doug was sad to see his family's party dwindling by the minute and I started feeling like a pariah, calling myself "Typhoid Patty".

John had Christmas spirit enough for all of us, with his festive sweater on, and gifts, candy, and alcohol on board. Time was a'wasting though, and we discussed with Matt on the way to Alameda about changing our venue to the Cinema Grill, a restaurant only one block from his place, since it was getting chilly and would be dark before you know it. While we were waiting for his family to come out, we took advantage of the time and each had a swallow of the whiskey that had been brought to make hot toddies with in the park. We drank to a wonderful Christmas celebration.

John, Matt, his two kids and two grandkids walked with us to the restaurant where we were kindly seated outside with heat lamps to keep us warm.

The food was great, but soon after we got it, the rain started coming down! The wait staff graciously brought us inside, where we were just about the only customers, to finish up. 

After dinner, we walked in the rain back to our Prius, to open the back hatch, which someone said looked like Santa's sleigh. We exchanged gifts as quickly as we could, in the drizzle, and went on our way. We dropped off John again in Berkeley, and then drove back out to Lafayette to spend the night, wondering if we should just drive on back to Palm Springs in the morning and not take a chance on infecting anyone. But then Lorraine told me that her son promised to bring me another rapid self-test when he and his family arrived for her traditional Christmas morning brunch. 

As folks began to arrive, we decided that we would stay at our end of the house again, just in case, thinking we might just be delegated to stay there during the whole party. The sister-in-law had decided to forego the crowd that day and come by herself later in the afternoon for a less chancy late breakfast. The new test arrived, and I very carefully read and re-read the instructions. I could hear my little great-grandnieces had arrived and were happily running around with little toy puppies on leashes, squealing and laughing. While I timed the test with my iPhone, I kept putting the finishing touches on gifts for Lorraine's kids and grandkids.....should I be allowed to hand them out.

This seemed like a better quality test, and once again, we both looked at the results together. No pink line! No line at all! Brunch was starting to be served, and I came out waving my happy results, teary eyed. Everyone believed it, and we were welcomed at the happy table, our plates full of frittata, ham, fruit, and homemade cinnamon rolls. 

Next was the opening of gifts around the beautiful tree, and then in to the living room, each getting a red stocking full of thoughtful gifts from Lorraine and Bill.

My Christmas traditions had been met, but Doug still yearned for more time with his kids. We decided to drive back to the Bay Area and distribute the family calendars and a few more gifts to them. Met outside with masks on again, he got to get a little more family fix for himself.

While we were gone it was a good time for Lorraine's sister-in-law to have her lost meal, and we kept to our room till she was gone, to make her feel better. It was decided that we would stay one more day, and drive home when there should be less traffic, just resting after our ordeal. Once again the four of us sat around the table reading the papers, and eating yummy leftover frittata and ham for breakfast. 

Lorraine and I talked about how happy we were that the two of us decided to see each other this year, no matter what, and laughed that all of us had polished off both 1 pound boxes of chocolates. We've lost our other two sisters in the last few years, and we needed to hug and hear each other laugh. These days, you never know..... 

After a teary farewell, we decided to take the coastal route and headed for Doug's favorite spot for the night, Morro Bay. When we arrived, it turns out that all the power was out in the little town, and if there's no power in the seafood restaurants and hotels.....well.  We moved on down the road to San Luis Obispo, where we settled on eating at the Denny's that was next door. Not exactly what we had hoped for. In the morning, I looked online and found the Cowgirl Cafe for breakfast, just to make up for last night's dinner and see a little of the local color. This relaxing morning caused us to get off later than we had planned.

The entire drive along the coast had been gorgeous, emphasized by the fact that it had been so long since we had seen the ocean, but eventually you have to turn east to get to Palm Springs. That's when the rain started up, it began to get dark early, and we ran into the LA traffic. With the windshield wipers flapping as fast as they would go, we felt we were almost home. Our Prius was allowed in the fast lane, and after we passed the tall, familiar Morongo Hotel, suddenly the special lane veered off to the left, with tall berms on both sides. The rain was pelting down, and our lights couldn't see very far in front of us! I gripped the steering wheel tightly, and kept talking out loud about how nervous I was, like, "How long do you think this alleyway goes on? It's hard for me to see!", I'm sure giving Doug great confidence in my driving. He didn't help me by saying, "This is like we are a bullet going down the barrel of a rifle!"

Finally our terror was over, and we were let out into the normal stream of traffic, and saw the exit for Palm Springs. Thank you God!! We were so happy to see our solar Christmas lights welcoming us as we drove down our street, and went inside our little cottage-like trailer and turned on the heater. It was time to put on our jammies, have a celebratory drink, make a quick dinner, and turn on our usual SkyNews. Everything was back to normal. 

Here's to a "normal" and healthy New Year to all of you!

Evacuees! It's a Long Story....

On Saturday, August 21, 2021, we decided to make the trip down to the Bay Area from South Lake Tahoe for a family birthday party in El Cerrito. It had been getting pretty smoky from the Dixie fire, and now there was talk of a new one, called Caldor. By the morning, our usual and shorter route on Hwy. 50 was reported closed, so we had to opt for Interstate 80, which would add an hour or so to our drive. I hated that idea, since I still hadn't quite recovered from doing most of the driving on the 39 day road trip we took in June and July. Still, Doug's kids seemed genuinely excited to have us come, so we packed our bags, thinking we would be back in two days.

With the news of the highway closure, and the ominous look of the sky and atmosphere turned eerily a dark red by the smoke over the sun, we packed a few extra things. People posted items that you should pack in a "go-bag", that you would leave by the front door, in case of evacuation. Ours included our briefcase containing important papers, our big bag of pills and vitamins, and all of our chargers, phones and laptops, just in case. 

At the party we kept vowing that we would be going back home on Monday, but we were looking forward to staying with his daughter Grace for the two nights and getting in some good visits with the family. We had just about gotten used to the AQI (air quality index) from the smoke to be at 250 or so, and it was quite a treat to look out at the San Francisco Bay and realize that I was seeing fog rather than smoke. Besides, our raspy sounding voices were noticeable to everyone, and we should maybe give our lungs a break.

My sister Lorraine asked if we'd like to spend a couple of days in Lafayette with her and her husband, and I jumped at the chance to have a nice long visit with my sister. She'd had an awful lot of company lately, including my daughter and her new baby, but she encouraged us to come. Her comfy bed and nice leisurely breakfasts in the morning, with the four of us reading the Wall Street Journal and the SF Chronicle together sounded relaxing. We started listening for alerts about the spreading Caldor fire by installing the app for a Reno news station on my phone, and we all gathered around the TV for news of the debacle in Afghanistan. 

Doug and I decided to use our time well since we were in the Bay Area. The former store that he had in Berkeley had been vacant for about 5 months, so we went over with gardening tools borrowed from Lorraine and tackled the yard. I pruned the rose bushes and Doug raked up about 6 bags of huge maple leaves.

The next day we continued our project, and bought some succulents and gazanias for the window boxes on the sunny side, and some begonias for the other side that has more shade. Now it looks more rentable.

Things weren't looking good for poor Tahoe though. The AQI was reported at about 450, and the blaze was creeping toward Echo summit and had jumped Hwy 50. We sat with teary eyes as we saw videos of the area of the road when you have what the reporter called an "Aha!" moment. Normally you could suddenly see beautiful Lake Tahoe, but now smoke prevented that. Fire had fallen down into the valley below and was causing what they called "spot fires" in Christmas Valley, where some of our friends live.  Doug was asked if we would like to stay in my sister's place at Bodega Bay for a few days, and we of course, said "Yes!" We have many happy memories there, one of which Doug proposed to me, and I said "Yes!". 

 

Our time there was idyllic, the sea air, going to see the Bodega Head, looking for possible whales passing by,..... but we felt like we were cheating. Some evacuees where sleeping in Walmart parking lots, for heaven sake, and here we were going out to lunch at the Main Street Grill in Guerneville. We had driven to Guerneville to shop at the Safeway, since it was cheaper than the small, but cute store around Bodega Bay, and we stocked up for our stay.

On Sunday we went to mass at St. Theresa's church right in the town of Bodega, where "The Birds" was filmed. The schoolhouse that's in the movie is right around the block. We went for a little ride around the area afterward,  in denial about what could be happening up in Tahoe.

Thinking we might be away from Tahoe for quite awhile, we tried to forward our mail to El Cerrito, but they wouldn't let us do it online. It said you had to come in person. The phone line to the post office just rang, with no message tape. They were closed. When we looked online, it said that Tahoe mail had all been forwarded to Carson City, NV. We had also left our California recall ballots on our coffee table in Tahoe, so we called the election office and had them send another ballot to El Cerrito, in case we're still there.

Everything's becoming so unsettling. We're getting tired of living out of suitcases now, after not quite getting over our big trip across country to see my new granddaughter. This is getting old now. We'd like to be in our own bed, but we wonder if we'll be seeing our nice, king-sized one again. I worry about all the plants and trees I've planted, and if the sprinkler system has been left on to keep them alive.

We've put together an entire 500 piece jigsaw puzzle and watched every news piece that we could find about the Caldor fire and the poor people in Afghanistan. After hearing that South Lake Tahoe is under mandatory evacuation, we have decided that we should leave Bodega and head for Richmond to my house that is rented, but we have access to the basement apartment, where son John lives. News of the fire getting close to our area is making this very real now. Folks have been calling and emailing us to make sure we're okay. One friend said "You must be in agony, worrying about your home." We looked at each other and decided that there wasn't anything there that we couldn't replace, and our "agony level" was at about 2. On the way there, we stopped at a Kohl's store to add on to our meager wardrobe, which is short of underwear and socks, and t-shirts, and pants, since we weren't planning on such a long trip.

Living back at the old house is a strange thing, since, for one thing, we're staying under a family of five that are living above us in the main part of the house, and we can hear them clomping around, and going up and down stairs.

I'm down in a room that has a lot of history. I never lived here myself, but now I know what all the folks that did, heard from our family living above them.

For one thing, when Jennie took tap-dance lessons at six years old, she used to practice her "shuffle-ball-changes" on the wooden floor in the front hall. I imagine Nana, Walt's Godmother, who we took care of, loved to hear that. She never complained though.

I've been thinking of all the different people that I rented this room to to make some extra money. So many of them have passed on, but memories of them have been coming back to me. There was Nana, who actually died here, in her hospital bed. When I came into her room, I'd say, "Hi Butterscotch Sundae!" since she loved them so much, and if I anticipated her wishes, she'd say, "You're just like Johnny at the rathole!"

My mother-in-law, Tutu, said her prayers from her little Catholic book, told us jokes, dressed up each day with her muu-muu, with matching jewelry and shoes, and entertained and counseled my son Lucas and his friends. She sat in her chair and washed our dog Tessa's face tenderly each day with a washcloth. Tessa adored her.

For about a year, I rented to a stroke patient, a former customer of mine at Baker's Square, who heard about how I had been taking care of Walt, my husband, who also had a stroke. We sort of adopted him into the family, even taking him with us on little vacations. He was Polish, and when we took him to Costco he was astonished to see the array of products, remembering the lack he experienced when he was younger in Poland.

Even Doug's son Matt came to live with us with his two young daughters when he was going through a messy divorce. By this time, both of my kids had moved out, and it was fun to have the grandchildren in the house, doing artwork and learning to play the piano.

Now here we were, ourselves. We sleep well here, almost too well. My early alarms go off on my phone, and then we keep on sleeping until 9:30 or even 10, not having a real reason to get up. Voices are heard upstairs, people are coming down the stairs outside our door to do their laundry, a cat meows, and the familiar train whistle blows in the distance. We are starting to feel as if we might be a little depressed. We have friends and family close by, and have visited with them some, but just busy ourselves during the day buying things we need to make ourselves comfortable. It's frustrating that there's no wi-fi here, but John instructed me how to use my phone to get on a Personal Hotspot, and then I could hook my laptop up to that, and we could watch movies on Netflix. I even found we could watch some news on Pluto TV on the computer. We feel desperate for news, looking constantly for how high the air quality numbers are, feeling sad for the folks that will be returning to a pile of cinders where their home once was. Then it's time to sleep again.

Our big project on Labor Day was to make ourselves chicken soup in the crockpot. Doug did his usual job as sous chef, and after I collected some herbs and spices from Grace for seasoning, it was delicious. We left 2 chicken breasts in the bottom of the pot, whole, so we would be able to make chicken sandwiches with them later. Pretty crafty, I think.

Next day we hear that Tahoe residents are being changed to an evacuation warning, not mandatory, and are able to return home. We love that idea, but hem and haw about whether we should go, since the air quality is still in the 200's. Deciding to go for it, we packed up our bags and all of our food, including the leftover soup in a plastic container, cleaned up our room and left town. We both felt anxious and shaky, and I felt nervous driving at first. They say that being depressed can contribute to that.

Before leaving, we put in our destination on GPS, knowing that our usual Hwy 50 would be closed, and the route we'd take would be a little longer on Hwy 80..... but at around Sacramento, the British lady's voice on our GPS announced that "because of a road closure ahead, your route has been changed". Doug looked and saw that the new route had us traveling much further, all the way over to Reno and then Carson City, and then back up to Tahoe. Feeling even more discombobulated at this news of another 2 hours added on to our drive, we tried to find out if maybe the fire had jumped over to the northern side of the lake and closed the road there too. Nothing was on the news on the car radio, and wouldn't you know it? Google wouldn't come up on our phone! We decided to press on, and try our original way, and if there was actually a road block we would have to obey. About 1/3 of the vehicles on the road were Highway Patrol cars or emergency vehicles, or fire trucks, which was pretty disconcerting. We saw a sign at an exit for a Highway Patrol office, but it had closed 3 minutes before. 

Finally, we came to Truckee, and then finding the turn-off for South Lake Tahoe, we took it. No signs of road closures. Hallelujah! Soon after that we saw the beautiful lake. The sky was pretty clear, but smelled smoky. We could see across, but the south shore was enveloped in smoke.

The sun was starting to set and was so beautiful (smoke actually makes for gorgeous sunsets), we stopped to take a picture just before we got to Zephyr Cove. Finally driving through town at Stateline, we saw a whole army of firefighters walking past a casino. I wish I would have had the presence of mind to clap my hands out the window or honk my horn in thanks for all they've done. 

Driving through the familiar gates of our condo, we honked our arrival, but no one heard us. I think there are only a handful that have moved back in since yesterday. It's eerily quiet, as we walk down our path and discover that thankfully the sprinkling system had never been turned off. We had been worried that all the plants and trees that I had planted would be dried up. But no. They had some ashes on their leaves, but most were pretty healthy, also thanks to a neighbor who watered for me as long as she stayed. First thing I did was fill the blue water bowl I leave outside for the birds and other animals. It was pretty ashy too, and who knows? One of those bears we've been hearing about that are roaming around might want to quench his thirst.

Next thing was to light our electric fireplace and sit in our comfy mission style recliners and give thanks for our nice cozy condo to live in. We both notice the blue feeling leaving us.

On the website, Eastern Sierra Fire and Ice, they had a reporter showing a map of what he called the Perfect Storm that saved South Lake Tahoe. When the fire started raging over Hwy 50 at Echo Summit, he said huge "perpendicular" winds threw fire over Christmas Valley, where there are a lot of homes, and on to the Western slope of the Sierra, heading toward Heavenly Valley, and only showering Christmas Valley with spot fires that could be handled. The area is still under evacuation, but he called this "the Christmas Valley Miracle". We'll take that. We felt that some of our prayers have been answered.

The next morning, I got up to feed my birds, squirrels and chipmunks some nuts and seeds. Only had one taker of each, but word will get out that I'm back, I'm sure. I doused all the plants with extra water from the hose, while wearing a face mask, for the smoke. The fire is only 50% contained, and hopefully firefighters can extinguish it completely. There is a chance that we might have to evacuate again, but for now, life is good.

Living in a Snow Globe

Ahead of me, out the picture window at my daughter and son-in-law's home in the Catskills, I can see  the nearby mountain. It has a grey look about it, with its leafless maples, ash, aspens and oaks. Each day however,  I notice a little more color on the red maples, their red buds are starting to show us that spring is here, just a glimpse of the glorious display of reds, oranges, yellows and purples that I've been told so much about.

Yesterday, April 21st, it started to snow! I could see the wind blowing flakes across the front of the mountain, and behind the stand of trees that runs down to a creek below. Snow starts to stick to the screens on the porch and on its red roof, and on the branches of the few pines. I was the only one excited about this, since everyone here has already experienced enough for this year. That's what happens when you're a "snowbird".... one who chases the sun, leaving Palm Springs when it's too hot, and arriving in Tahoe only for the last snow.

I, for one, was mesmerized by the flurries swirling around outside. The wind blows across my view and then catches the flakes in the crook of the house, swirling them out in the other direction, giving the effect of living in a snow globe.

I hold my very tiny, new grandbaby, and stand, rocking her in my arms, swaying back and forth in front of the window, telling her about all that was going on outside that she might observe for herself some day. There's even a pond, complete with newts and frogs, that her sister will be happy to explain and explore more fully with her. Big sister is just the one to train her in making forts from fallen branches. 

For now, she's not interested in looking out the window.....it's too bright. "But it's your first snow!", I say. She squints and turns her eyes from the light, preferring to peck around on my neck hoping to find something more appealing there. She's fussy, and I resort to a song I sang to her mom, "For Baby". "I walk in the rain by your side, I cling to the warmth of your tiny hand...." Like magic, she calms and closes her eyes, seeming to enjoy hearing my voice as it rumbles in my chest when I hit the low notes. My chin touches the top of her head and I feel her soft hair. Life is good.

The next day, the snow continued, and since the temps dropped at night, there were icicles hanging from the eaves of the house. When I reported that to my daughter, she said, "Oh no! We've had enough of that! It's time for Spring!". Trying to make myself useful, I put on my brand new snow boots that I bought specifically for this trip, and took a walk down the hill to fill the bird feeder with seeds. With all the commotion of having a new baby, I thought that maybe the feeder was being neglected. My boots made a crunching noise as I made my way down to the post, where the feeder was hanging. I filled it carefully with the scoop provided in the jar, screwed the top back on the long tube, and hung it back up on the nail. Taa-daa! The walk back up the hill was more difficult, since I could feel it in my knee. Too much sitting, I guess, after all the self-isolating.

Warming up in the house and holding the baby again, I looked up from her sweet sleeping face to see a squirrel going at the bird feeder by hanging upside down. He had knocked off the top of it, and now was trying to eat the seeds from the random holes in the tube! I jumped up to get a closer look, and there was movement out of the corner of my vision....an animal, brown, and about the size of a beaver, but with a different tail. The word "marmot" comes to mind. It walks over the snow-covered grass right below us, chomping on the chilly greens. When I looked it up on Google (of course), I was right, but it's also called a groundhog. I'm thinking that he was disappointed to have snow on the ground again. He looked pretty cute crawling around out there, but when he sat up, he had a surprisingly ferocious looking face. Maybe tomorrow I'll give the bird feeder one more try, screwing the top on more carefully, but right now I can see why some folks are so anti-squirrel.

The snow continues to dust the trees on the hillside, and swirl past my window. I hope the snow doesn't shock the new growth on the trees. I imagine they'll probably just appreciate the moisture and be encouraged to grow even more. 

I sit back down with baby, wrapped up in a warm blanket. The wind is still blowing the snow from right to left in front of the forest of leafless trees. Drifts of snow are blown suddenly from the bows of the big pine tree, and fluffy flakes dance in front of the window.

Yep, we're in a snow globe. We rock and sit near the fire by the wood stove. Grandma reads.

One month later, we're back at our summer home in Tahoe, and on May 20th, it has started to snow, to everyone's surprise. The weather app on our phone kept predicting it, but even that morning, the sky was sunny. After lunch, little hard flakes fell, even though the sun was peeking through a few clouds. I wondered if I should be looking for a rainbow. We drove along, doing errands and watched the flakes aim at our window. Back at home, the snow started building up, covering the bushes and some of the new hollyhocks and pansies I had recently planted. Tulips were weighed down with snow, and the two tomatoes were already coated, so I guess it was too late to save them from frost. I'm hoping all the plants will take it in their stride.

Inside, we opened up our blinds wide, so we could watch the changing landscape. The stairs and railing had accumulated about 3 inches. I didn't want to be a stick in the mud indoors, so I donned my aforementioned snow boots, and went for a little walk. Flakes tried to accumulate in my warm pockets and collected on my hat. I only saw one other person out there, taking a bag of garbage out to the bin. She was so bundled up in her well-worn parka with a hood, and boots on that I didn't recognized my neighbor at first. I smiled and said, "Isn't it glorious?!!", and she just groaned and said something about "I'm just ready for summer." 

I wandered back to our condo, red cheeked, and happy. I have a better relationship with my squirrels in Tahoe. Since I'm running low on nuts and seeds to give the critters outside, I made my specialty for them.....two big peanut butter sandwiches, cut into little squares, and scattered them on the ground to watch the grey squirrels, chickarees, Robins and Stellar Jays come after them. Then I heated some water in our electric tea pot to add to their water bowl I have outside that had become all slushy with snow. 

Delighted with the day, I came inside to watch the show through the window. The American Robin drinking from the bowl, was the biggest I'd ever seen.....I think about to deliver, and the squirrels and even chipmunks seemed to think there was enough to go around. The snow continued to swirl around, some of it heavy enough in the branches of the pines to fall off in great plops, and then blow around in the slight wind. 

Once again I'm in a snow globe. Inside this one though, my husband and I judiciously work on a new jigsaw puzzle and have a cup of tea, while the fireplace glows in the corner....cozy and warm while the snow whirls outside.

One Maria Too Many

One of the good things about marrying my husband, is that he was used to having a cleaning lady come to the house every two weeks. So when he and a couple of his kids moved over to my house he kept up the habit. I called her "Mi Esposa", (my wife, in Spanish), not to her face, of course. Her name was Maria, and we hit it off famously.

When we moved to Palm Springs to a mobile home that we call "our cottage", the place was so small, we decided to only have someone come help us clean every couple of months, usually if company was about to arrive. We got a reference from a neighbor, and this woman came to our little trailer and accepted us as clients. When I asked her her name, she said, "Maria".....

So, every winter, when we're in Palm Springs, we call for Maria and her crew to come clean. They always marvel at the changes we've made, like painting, or new curtains, or lately, the new washer and dryer. When we were getting ready this time to make the change to the north, we had scheduled a cleaning day, but there were still a lot of painting and plumbing projects going on. It just didn't seem sensible to have the cleaners come when the place was in such an uproar. Doug called Maria to postpone for 2 days later. He usually does the arrangement, since he likes to practice his best Spanish with her. She answered and said that would be fine, and for some reason, asking if we would be there. Doug said, "Por supuesto!" ("Of course!", in Spanish). She'd see us on Friday.

Since the pressure was off to finish the projects, we went out to lunch. When we came back, the strong odor of something like Lysol surprised us as we opened the door. The house was clean, the bed made nicely, and the kitchen floor was mopped, ......except the 2 rooms where the projects were happening. 

"But I told her to come back in two days! Her crew must not have gotten the message!", he said. When he called Maria back, she said that she never got the message. Puzzled, and figuring it was just some sort of language misunderstanding, she agreed to come back in 2 days and finish the job. We'd pay her then.

Later in the day, we got a call from our property manager for the house in Richmond. He said the tenants were irate that "a friend of our son", who lives in the apartment downstairs, came into the house through the front door which was unlocked, evidently looked around, and then went in to the bathroom and used it. When the flushing was heard, their twin girls, who were home alone at the time, came from their room and asked what she was doing there. They told her to leave, or they would call the police.

Confused, our cleaner, Maria, left the house, and seeing son John working in the garden, she asked him if we were home. He was surprised to see her after so long, and said, "No Maria. They're living down in Palm Springs." He called us soon after, and told us he saw Maria, and that got our minds reeling.

I looked at our phone to see our last calls, and discovered that Doug had chosen "Maria Lopez cleaner", rather than "Maria Palm Springs" from the list of contacts. 

Poor, bewildered Maria! No wonder she sounded kind of hesitant to come. We imagined her, walking in the door, as usual, but finding it totally different looking from what she was used to. Before we rented it out, we totally painted and carpeted it and did new window treatments. Now it was decorated in the tenants taste, which I would love to check out, but it must have been so confusing to her. Then, I suppose she thought she might as well take a pee before getting down to work, and then was discovered by two irate teenagers! 

One lesson learned. Apologize to Maria, but make sure we have the right number.

Yet Another Different Kind of Christmas:Thanks to the Coronavirus

Now this is the strangest holiday season I think that anyone may have experienced. At least most of the people in our lifetimes have not been through a plague, since the Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918. It's taken us on a long, inconvenient and uncomfortable ride, and most folks are saying, "Come on now! Aren't we there yet?" 

"Pandemic fatigue" has set in, especially as the holidays are upon us. My husband and I made it through Thanksgiving with just the two of us with a roast duck. No kids or grandkids gathered around our table, so I made some yummy Tollhouse cookies without touching them or breathing on them, and handed them out to friends in our mobile park in ZipLoc bags. They were very thankful for the treats. We participated in a couple of Zoom calls from family and friends, which made us feel that we weren't alone, and we all texted photos of our meals and toasted each other on FaceTime. Thank God for Zoom and social media giving us a little feeling of togetherness.

I announced to my husband that "we need to put up lots of lights this year! Let's shine away 2020!" I ran to the laptop to order more solar Christmas lights from Amazon, since some years we've had lots of lights and a huge electric bill for December. This should do the trick. When they arrived, though, I found that some of the lights I ordered were classified as "fairy lights", very tiny, twinkly things, surprisingly bright for their size, but not quite right. I went back and ordered ones shaped like colorful snowflakes, in honor of the vintage 12-inch snowflake lights I used to string on the hedge each year. I checked the size on solar ones, and they were only about 1-1/4" wide, but they'd do. Then we ordered a nice, new 72 foot string of colorful solar lights for the "wall tree" that I've arranged on our living room wall for the last few years. As I kept on receiving the boxes in the mail, my husband said, "But didn't you just order some lights?" I told Doug that it was okay that I was ordering so many things, since we would be saving so much money every Christmas on electricity! Heck, we would even be doing our part to save the planet!

The lights went up pretty fast, and then the wall tree, with the traditional "Elf" movie playing in the background. It struck me as perfect, when I looked over at the TV and Will Ferrel, as Elf, said "You're very good at decorating that tree!"

I first arranged the lights, by using a string from the top to the bottom  as a guide line, and then zig-zagged them back and forth on nails, thankful that the 72 foot length worked out just fine! Next, I added the green foil garlands from the Dollar Store, and then layered on lots of favorite ornaments.

Everything automatically lit up the first night, at 5:03, as the sun went down, and now each evening it's getting a little sooner. Last night, the sky darkened at 5:00 PM, even, and on they came. 

It took me over a month to gather photos online of family members for the calendar I make each year,

and, being ever frugal, I figured out how to mail several of them directly to people with free shipping, saving a bunch on postage. Next was the task of finding age appropriate gifts for kids, mostly sent by Amazon, saving postage once again, but I refused mostly, to pay the $4.99 extra for a gift bag. Not realizing that my name wouldn't be on the outside of the box as the sender, only on the receipt inside, I told everyone, "If it is addressed just to the kids, don't open it, just put it under your tree." I imagine many trees are going to have lots of unwrapped cardboard boxes under them. Maybe we should stick a bow on top just to try to make it look a little more festive. 

I've never seen so many delivery vans, and now I notice UPS drivers in their brown uniforms and hats, sporting a blue surgical mask, driving U-Haul trucks. On Sundays you might spot a postal truck being driven around, since Amazon is renting them from the post office on a day they aren't usually used.

We feel really sorry for the local businesses and restaurants, especially here in California, where we are in such a lockdown. Our friend Kim and her family own the Mario's restaurant here in Palm Springs, and we try to get something to go a couple of times a week to support them. Besides, we miss going out to lunch. We're afraid that more small businesses will be closing before this whole thing is over. It's so sad.

When we went to Lowe's last week, most of their Christmas decorations were sold out. I just went in for birdseed, but I mean! Even outside where they sell their live Christmas trees, the pickings were slim, with only about 20 trees left. It was in the paper the other day that more people are staying at home and trying to brighten up their lives with a bigger than usual Christmas tree. I guess we aren't the only ones decorating a little early.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a short visit from one of Doug's kid's and her family. It was long planned that they and 2 other friends and their families would meet up in Phoenix for a week at an AIRBNB. Each family self-isolated for 2 weeks at home, and they packed all of their food so they wouldn't have to stop along the way. After their nice time of playing in the sun, they stopped by to see us, all wearing their masks. They texted that they would pick up burritos for everyone at Chipotle, and we sat out on the patio over 6 feet apart, So Christmas will be more Zooming with family, and this time it will be just us and a rack of lamb. 

It was hard, but everyone agreed to not come near us to visit, especially after we heard that a friend's wife passed away three days ago, after having family over for Thanksgiving. Most of the people at that party contracted Covid. This was both chilling and sad to hear, and a real wake-up call. 

So.... You know the drill. Don't forget to wear your mask when you go outside your house. Be "stand-offish" when you are around folks that aren't in your "bubble". Smile at people with your eyes, since they can't see your mouth.....and have the Merriest Christmas that you can. 

2021 HAS to be better, right?

Tahoe Wildlife

This title could be a little misleading. It's not about the wild life that we lead here at  South Lake Tahoe. No, we're actually pretty calm and predictable. The story is just about the critters that we come across right outside our front door.

There's been talk of a big bear that comes around many times a week, that folks are starting to call "Bob". We haven't seen Bob ourselves, but we hear he's pretty large, and lumbers along. He seems to know when garbage day is, since he makes sure to check out the garbage enclosures the night before, opens the gate with the handle and then lifts the heavy lid on the bin with ease.

Our most exciting story, was when a black bear probably drank all the water from a bowl we have outside our front door two nights in a row. The missing water was first noted one morning when our neighbor's fence had been knocked down the night before, and the next day, it was reported that a bear had torn off a plank from the garbage enclosure. He must have worked up a thirst after all that work, and knew he could come by for a drink afterward. When I told my husband about all this, he said, "What?? I've been coming in and sitting in my recliner chair right by the door the last few nights. He was about 6 feet from my head! I think you'd better get rid of that water bowl, or at least move it!"

I opted for moving it, since I've been providing water for all the smaller critters for the last 5 or 6 years, and I think they depend on me.

The blue glass bowl was repositioned farther away, over behind a bush, and I placed a stone next to it so that the birds and chipmunks would have something to hop up on to get a drink. I watched and worried every day to see if anyone noticed the change. I sat and read quietly in my zero-gravity chair, looking around the edge of my book to see if I had any takers. I even put extra bird seed close by, which would get eaten, but there were no takers for a drink afterward. For a few days, the water level never went down, and finally Doug told me it would be okay if I put the bowl a little more out in the open. Soon after, it was discovered again, not only for refreshment, but for lovely baths!

The bathers, are the occasional American Robin, but two or three Brewer's Blackbirds from the flock that frequents our yard are appreciating a dip at the same time. One gets in and flaps around while the other two politely sit on the edge awaiting their turn.

Every morning, I go out with a copper cup that's meant for a Moscow Mule cocktail, filled 2/3 full with birdseed, and then topped off with shelled sunflower seeds and peanuts. I don't want a bunch of shells littering our forest floor, and I think the little animals appreciate the little effort they have to put out to get a nice buffet. Later on, I'll add a few grapes that have past their prime or some crusts of bread. I think they'll all be missing me when we go back down to Palm Springs in the end of October. A neighbor says that she fills the water bowl during the winter if she sees it getting low.

The squirrels are knocking down an abundant amount of pine cones from the Ponderosa pines lately. Someone told us that this means that we'll have an early winter or a big one. One of the two. They chew them off from way up high, and the immature cones drop down like bombs, with a big "thud" making you wonder if you should be wearing a bicycle helmet along with your mask. Then, the squirrel runs down the tree and very conscientiously chews off bits that are called scales, leaving them in a mess all over the ground, and eating up the seeds that are underneath. Only something like a corn cob is left on the ground. The more mature pine cones, that are all opened up, with their scales all flailed out,  are left alone by the squirrels. I just noticed the difference this year, since I have so much time on my hands, I suppose. 

Doug laughs that I identify the squirrels as babies, teenagers, and adults. But I keep watching. These brown squirrels, called Douglas, or Chickarees, seem to first appear as small as chipmunks, squealing like birds, and mostly brown, with golden bellies. As they age, to the "teenage" years, they start getting darker strips on their sides, and grow larger. The babies are fearless, and don't mind coming close to me, but the teenagers seem to grow more skittish, undoubtedly having had some experiences with danger. 

I used to think that the smaller brown squirrels were the younger grey squirrels, but no.

The Grey Squirrels are much larger, with deer-like faces, longer ears, and have huge, fluffy tails. As they grow older, they grow more salt and pepper grey. They climb down the trees in the morning to see what I've provided for breakfast. 

Right now, in the beginning of September, I'm starting to think that both of the species don't appreciate my thoughtfulness so much, since they have been digging around many of the plants that I have planted recently. I always say that they think that there's a new squirrel in town that has hidden a nut, but a friend told me that they just like to chew on the roots of my plants. Still though, I'm just glad that they aren't voles, like we had a few years ago, tunneling around and killing the plants. Some may hate them, but I still love watching my squirrels.

The chipmunks have been just darling lately, baby ones I'm sure, coming around in pairs of two, just like "Chip and Dale" from the old cartoons. They skitter around so quickly, from a bush, across the path, and under the steps, that I can hardly point them out to Doug in time, before they are gone again. Even the older ones, with their striped backs, (they all have them from birth), are so quick and wary, jump up to take a drink from my blue bowl. I'm delighted to provide for them.

The species of birds are many, from the big flock of Brewer's Blackbirds that I mentioned, to the Stellar Jays and their cacophony that we hear telling their friends that breakfast is served each morning. Later on in the day, a couple of mourning doves will show themselves, sometimes defending what they believe is their territory, making us think that their reputation for being so peaceful is in jeopardy. A few American Robins hang around, not necessarily interested in my bird seeds, but I think more concentrating on the worms that might be attracted to our automatic watering system. Most of them have orangish-red breasts, and some have speckled ones. I thought those were maybe the females, not being as flashy, but I've read that they are the juveniles.

Notably louder, we have huge crows, that swoop over our heads near the pool so low that we can hear their wings flap. Then they go up high in the pines and caw to each other or make a strange gurgling sound, we think is to attract a mate. There are even a few even larger ravens, that march around on the ground, almost as big as turkeys.

Another special bird is the Northern Flicker. My ears are getting so attuned to the calls of the birds, that I joke that I may have been one once. The other day I was inside, and heard a different birdcall, and looked out to see a big bird on the side of a tree, pecking at it. It didn't have a red head like some of the woodpeckers up here do,  just a little bit on it's cheeks, and it was tan and kind of speckled. When it took off flying it had a beautiful salmon color under it's wings. I ran for my trusty bird book, and found it! A Flicker! Today, I found that online I could hear samples of this bird's call, so I did a funny thing and brought my computer outside and played a couple of them loudly. The other birds looked shocked and took off, but on about the third try, a Flicker swooped over to land on the side of one of the Ponderosa pines! Then he hopped down to the ground and pecked awhile. He didn't seem very interested in hearing any more of my calls, so maybe it was just a coincidence. 

For the last two years, a pair of Chickadees have made their nest in a knot hole in the trim above our condo. They're winning the award for my favorite flock of birds. They fly down to a small pine tree out front, and sometimes come close to me when I'm walking by, or they hop around near by while I'm gardening, seeming rather curious and friendly. Their chirp sounds like a sort of smooching, kissing sound. I try to make that sound when I come out in the morning and every so often one flies down to me.

Their heads look like they're wearing little bicycle helmets, and sometimes the peanuts they try to pick up and fly away with, look half the size of their little round body.

A couple of months some of the neighbors were delighted that a mallard duck had made a nest, but were worried that she made her nest full of feathers in a precarious place, down low in a juniper bush. There were three eggs in there, and we all looked forward to when the little ducklings would be following their mother around the condo complex. Our hopes were dashed one day, when it looked like a coyote had found the nest. All that was left were the shells amongst her soft feathers, and Mama was walking around quacking, looking forlorn.

A few days later, Mama duck had taken to swimming in the pool, which seemed okay, since it was closed to us due to the pandemic. We were entertained by her dramatic landings in the water, and were happy that she had a spa, (or pond), to recover from her loss. She'd hang out at the edge, and eventually surprised us by depositing a large egg right there on the cement.... and leaving it. The neighbors all talked about how to help her, all wearing our masks and socially distancing, of course. We worried that the abandoned egg would get too cold, since the temps were going to drop that night. Finally, the maintenance guy checked it out closer and found it to be cracked. The poor thing was unceremoniously deposited in the garbage bin. Mama never showed up again.

Well, it looks like from my ramblings that I still have a lot of time on my hands. I've told you about everything wild here so far. Guess I'd better go outside again to see what's up.

The Little Creep!

We've been up at South Lake Tahoe since the beginning of May, and I've been having a grand time gardening for the whole condo complex, with the larger stipend of $750. they've given me for plants. I DO like to find the best deals I can, and it's even better when I'm spending someone else's money.
My new saying is "I work for compliments", since I don't get paid for the digging, but I consider gardening my main form of exercise. Besides, one of the owners said that whenever she spots a new flower, she says to herself, "The gardening fairy must have been here!" That's my new moniker, and I like it.

My routine in the morning, after we do a short meditation and prayer, is to go out and feed the birds, squirrels and chipmunks. I fill their water bowl and toss a mixture of birdseed, and peanuts and sunflower seeds without the shell on the ground like I'm feeding chickens. It's delightful for me to watch their movements out the window, but for the last two mornings, I've gone out to find the two most recent plants I've planted in our own little plot, with holes dug next to them. Whenever that happens, I just figure that one of the critters must think that there's a new squirrel in town that has buried a nice juicy nut, so I use the toe of my slipper to fill in the hole, forgiving them.

.

Once again, right next to the Milkweed I planted to provide Monarch butterflies a place to set up housekeeping, and my nice, red Coral Bells plant that I got for Doug for Father's Day, big holes, and the red-leafed one had had it's roots chewed on! Now this morning, everything was fine, until after I fed the little darlings their treats. We dished up breakfast, and then I glanced out the window to find the Coral Bells completely uprooted and lying on its side! Oh no!
"What the.....! Don't you guys know that I'm the one that provides for you every day?" This means war!

Leaving my coffee and turkey bacon and toast with honey and peanut butter on it to get cold, I ran back in to the kitchen to rummage through the spice cupboard to find my stash of hot red peppers like you put on pizza. These were left over from the arsenal I had used to fight off the voles 2 years ago. Doug watched as I whizzed by him to defend my territory. I plopped the poor plant back in to it's hole, filled it in, and sprinkled the hot peppers thickly around it. Take that, you little creep! Then I went in to eat my breakfast.

About an hour later, we were dressed up to finally go to mass, (we had to make reservations), and Doug saw through the window that there was a big fat squirrel standing up holding the Coral Bells and chewing on the roots! Perhaps he enjoyed the extra spicy seasoning! I opened the door and he ran off, leaving the plant looking wilted and missing half of it's roots. I only had time to toss it back in it's hole and give it some water and wish it well.

When we came home, it looked like it needed artificial respiration. I decided to give it more water and then cover it with a big glass bowl, sort of like a terrarium. Then it got overheated in the sun, and the glass was coated in moisture, so I set two ice cubes on top of the bowl. Desperate measures.....

That worked for a little while, but then when I took off the bowl, even though it looked a little perkier, I worried about the plant being attacked again over night, so I put the bowl on again.
After being exposed again in the morning though, some of the leaves were feeling as crispy as potato chips, and I decided to dig it up and put it in a pot, (no less, a ceramic pot I made myself back in the 80's).

The next day, I sat in my zero-gravity lounge chair and read a book, while glancing up intermittently to gaze lovingly at my group of critters as they grazed on their morning buffet. One of the chipmunks, not realizing I was there sat near me on the ground chewing on seeds. A robin skitters to and fro, and I notice that she keeps her head down and forward as she runs along, and then stops, more upright, and looks and listens.

But then I notice a big squirrel that is sniffing around and pawing at the ground across the way, digging little holes, and then stopping to scratch himself. Maybe he has a flea. "This is the guy!", I'm thinking. He repeats the process a few times, and by now I'm calling him "Itchy". Then he comes right over to where the red plant had been, and sniffed around. "Aha!" I wish I had a squirt gun to surprise him with.

Oh well. At least my little plant is safe up on the table. Hmm. Perhaps I should bring it in to the dining room at night.
I know there are other folks who might get out a BB gun at this point....and I AM considering a trip to the Dollar Store later to shop for a Super Soaker, but in this time of self isolating, at least I have some cheap entertainment.