But seriously, we are moving this week. If anyone wants to stop buy and give us
.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Moving
Most of you already know this but I am moving this week, from my small abode to a large one. This time with a roommate, my daughter! She moved back from Texas a month or so ago, has been sleeping here at my place on a blow-up bed, at her brother's house and a few other places. Now we have a house, here in Santa Rosa, and will be able to help each other out with the dogs, with life in general. The house has a large, blank back yard so we will try to be urban farmers, plant vegetables, maybe get a goat or two, a pig, a small cow, a horse to till the land and many, many chickens. We will delight the neighborhood by opening our backyard to the kids, charge them a little money and have a petting zoo. I am pretty sure the townsfolk of Santa Rosa won't mind. We might even pull up the fake astro-turf-like front yard (not kidding, it has fake grass in the front) and plant a small vineyard. Hey, if other people in Sonoma county can make a bundle on biodynamic wines, why can't we hop on that bandwagon as well? Since it will be in the front yard, we can call it "Not In My Backyard Vineyards." Catchy.
But seriously, we are moving this week. If anyone wants to stop buy and give usmoney moral support or just wants to see where we live, give us a call...... anytime in the next year, is fine. We will be there for a while.
.
But seriously, we are moving this week. If anyone wants to stop buy and give us
.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Sunday morning, Glen Ellen
This is a quick posting because I am feeling guilty for not posting anything for more than TEN DAYS! That's just no bueno.
Working at the little boutiquey hotel here in Glen Ellen this morning. Driving to work these early mornings on Highway 12 is so lovely. The sun hits the naked grapevines, which are more like gnarled sticks these days, and creates geometrical prisms that you don't see when they are leafed out. The sun bounces off the trellises that guide the vines and they shine like golden trapeze wires. Wild yellow flowers, some mustard, compete with the green, green grass and the overall effect is (dare I say it?) magical. It makes my morning so much more peaceful.
And then, this morning, to spoil all that goodness, we had two families staying here at this grown-up type hotel with small kids. Four kids under 6, all bad mannered. They didn't tell us about the kids when they made the reservation, of course. Needless to say, it was chaos. Kids with no manners, in a small, quiet dining space, running to the pastry tray over and over, knocking forks and knives to the floor, breaking a juice glass full of orange juice, whining because there is no hot chocolate. And the parents are as oblivious as statues. Half hour after they have finished trashing the three tables we moved together for them, they are still here in the lobby, playing with a computer and being obnoxious. I know they bothered other guests, people ate their breakfasts and bolted from the room. Sad.
Hotels like this should be no-kid zones. No kidding.
.
Working at the little boutiquey hotel here in Glen Ellen this morning. Driving to work these early mornings on Highway 12 is so lovely. The sun hits the naked grapevines, which are more like gnarled sticks these days, and creates geometrical prisms that you don't see when they are leafed out. The sun bounces off the trellises that guide the vines and they shine like golden trapeze wires. Wild yellow flowers, some mustard, compete with the green, green grass and the overall effect is (dare I say it?) magical. It makes my morning so much more peaceful.
And then, this morning, to spoil all that goodness, we had two families staying here at this grown-up type hotel with small kids. Four kids under 6, all bad mannered. They didn't tell us about the kids when they made the reservation, of course. Needless to say, it was chaos. Kids with no manners, in a small, quiet dining space, running to the pastry tray over and over, knocking forks and knives to the floor, breaking a juice glass full of orange juice, whining because there is no hot chocolate. And the parents are as oblivious as statues. Half hour after they have finished trashing the three tables we moved together for them, they are still here in the lobby, playing with a computer and being obnoxious. I know they bothered other guests, people ate their breakfasts and bolted from the room. Sad.
Hotels like this should be no-kid zones. No kidding.
.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Book - Memoir
"The Chronology of Water" by Lidia Yuknavitch is not a book I would recommend to many people. In fact, other than my friend Kara and Tom (who loaned me the book) I doubt any other blog readers here would like it. It is really tough, really rough, sometimes difficult to read. Lidia had a rotten life and there is nothing even remotely amusing about her recollections of that life. At one point, I put the book down and wasn't sure about finishing it. Her sentence structure, grammar, balance of narrative were all off to me and I hate books that are experimentally written.
But I returned to it and finished it in three days. It's a slow read and very intense, there is shadowy abuse and in-your-face sex, birth, death, drinking, drugs, despair and almost redemption. The writing at times is like water: it surrounds you and pulls you in and just when you feel like you are drowning, it buoys you up and pushes you to the surface and makes you take a strangled breath. Lidia doesn't simply share her life with the reader as many memoirs do. She forces you to be in her life with all of its hate and love, fear and faith.
If you are brave enough to pick it up, beware of the consequences. Honestly, it will make you examine your own life, your past, your fears and your accomplishments and your failures. It's a soul-searching book and not just for Lidia.
I sort of liken it to watching the movie "Amour." There were times I almost left the theater and when the film was over I wasn't sure why anyone would go see it. But it stayed with me for days, for weeks. It was so painful and difficult to watch but so true and such a story of love that maybe everyone needs to watch it. Maybe everyone needs to read "The Chronology of Water" but that isn't going to happen. Suffice it to say I am glad I did. Lidia certainly examines her life and in turn, forces the reader to do the same.
.
But I returned to it and finished it in three days. It's a slow read and very intense, there is shadowy abuse and in-your-face sex, birth, death, drinking, drugs, despair and almost redemption. The writing at times is like water: it surrounds you and pulls you in and just when you feel like you are drowning, it buoys you up and pushes you to the surface and makes you take a strangled breath. Lidia doesn't simply share her life with the reader as many memoirs do. She forces you to be in her life with all of its hate and love, fear and faith.
If you are brave enough to pick it up, beware of the consequences. Honestly, it will make you examine your own life, your past, your fears and your accomplishments and your failures. It's a soul-searching book and not just for Lidia.
I sort of liken it to watching the movie "Amour." There were times I almost left the theater and when the film was over I wasn't sure why anyone would go see it. But it stayed with me for days, for weeks. It was so painful and difficult to watch but so true and such a story of love that maybe everyone needs to watch it. Maybe everyone needs to read "The Chronology of Water" but that isn't going to happen. Suffice it to say I am glad I did. Lidia certainly examines her life and in turn, forces the reader to do the same.
.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Sonny Barger
I was watching some of "Sons of Anarchy" and the legendary (at least to me) Sonny Barger made a couple of appearances. It made me nostalgic, so here it is.
In the 1980's I worked for a motorcycle company in San Bruno. They hired me to work the front desk, write contracts, sell insurance, make nice with the clients. I could do the first three things quite fine but the last, making nice with the clients, was beyond me. (Keep in mind that this was when I was in my 30's. Enough said.) You have to understand that the clientele at a Honda/Yamaha motorcycle dealership then was a special group. I don't want to use the term "special needs" but sometimes, they were. At some point I had exhausted my "making nice" quotient and the owner of the shop moved me to the parts department. He could have fired me but he knew I was smart, just not tolerant of idiots. Plus, I was cute then, and that was a good thing in a motorcycle shop.
I knew nothing about motorcycles or their parts but in the parts department I organized the supervisor's desk, his in- and-out basket, the orders coming and going and I got to be involved with the ordering software they used. And this led me to the motorcycle software company that eventually liked me enough to hire me to be their West Coast liaison person. And it is in this realm that my story begins.
My territory for this company was the West Coast. From Southern California to northern Washington, I got to travel around and visit motorcycle dealerships. Mostly Honda but it became increasingly obvious that Harley Davidson had a strong interest in the software, so I got to know a lot of HD dealerships as well. My favorite was in SF, Dudley Perkins Harley Davidson, which was the most professional of all motorcycle dealerships ever. Dudley and his sons were stellar, they wore ties, the man who ran the office was Tom, a true gentleman, the parts department was spotless and they took me out to lunch at Hayes Street Grill whenever I was there. I loved those guys. I installed their computer with a Swiss Army knife, I made the electrical connections with a 24 bit squeezey thing, I ran wires, I made it happen hardware-wise. And then I trained them all on the software. They offered me the family discount on a bike. To this day, I regret that I didn't take them up on their offer. I did get to take a Harley out for a ride, solo, around the block.... and can we talk about the vibration....well, let's just say it was really, really nice.
I also did computer installation and training at Bob Dron HD in Oakland. This was still in the mid 1980's and that dealership was a rough place. The guys from Dudley Perkins HD warned me about working there, they were a bit nervous for me. But the main guy I worked with was named Conrad, he was the parts guy, a total Hells Angel but smart and kind and funny. The Oakland Hells Angels were legendary then, and not necessarily in a good legend way. But most everyone there was nice to me, I was the cute girl training them on software they needed. The kick for me was that Sonny Barger, the guy who started the Oakland chapter of Hells Angels, came into the Bob Dron store often. He had already had the laryngectomy and could only talk through a hole in his throat. He was pretty much on his way to prison for blowing up some other Hells Angels clubhouse. I have to say, he was a bit scary. I didn't like him, he and the hole in his throat creeped me out. (Barger and his crew were the guys responsible for knifing someone at the Altamont Music Festival in 1969, something most people have now forgotten.) Now he's an old guy, in his 70's, and when I see him on TV he looks ordinary. He was anything but ordinary in 1985. Even Hells Angels were wary of him.
All this is just casting back into the past, brought on by seeing Sonny Barger in an episode of "Sons of Anarchy." The motorcycle days were good, in a way. Bad in some ways as well, but, hey. We all have that. Good, bad, up, down. We learn, we move on.
.
In the 1980's I worked for a motorcycle company in San Bruno. They hired me to work the front desk, write contracts, sell insurance, make nice with the clients. I could do the first three things quite fine but the last, making nice with the clients, was beyond me. (Keep in mind that this was when I was in my 30's. Enough said.) You have to understand that the clientele at a Honda/Yamaha motorcycle dealership then was a special group. I don't want to use the term "special needs" but sometimes, they were. At some point I had exhausted my "making nice" quotient and the owner of the shop moved me to the parts department. He could have fired me but he knew I was smart, just not tolerant of idiots. Plus, I was cute then, and that was a good thing in a motorcycle shop.
I knew nothing about motorcycles or their parts but in the parts department I organized the supervisor's desk, his in- and-out basket, the orders coming and going and I got to be involved with the ordering software they used. And this led me to the motorcycle software company that eventually liked me enough to hire me to be their West Coast liaison person. And it is in this realm that my story begins.
My territory for this company was the West Coast. From Southern California to northern Washington, I got to travel around and visit motorcycle dealerships. Mostly Honda but it became increasingly obvious that Harley Davidson had a strong interest in the software, so I got to know a lot of HD dealerships as well. My favorite was in SF, Dudley Perkins Harley Davidson, which was the most professional of all motorcycle dealerships ever. Dudley and his sons were stellar, they wore ties, the man who ran the office was Tom, a true gentleman, the parts department was spotless and they took me out to lunch at Hayes Street Grill whenever I was there. I loved those guys. I installed their computer with a Swiss Army knife, I made the electrical connections with a 24 bit squeezey thing, I ran wires, I made it happen hardware-wise. And then I trained them all on the software. They offered me the family discount on a bike. To this day, I regret that I didn't take them up on their offer. I did get to take a Harley out for a ride, solo, around the block.... and can we talk about the vibration....well, let's just say it was really, really nice.
I also did computer installation and training at Bob Dron HD in Oakland. This was still in the mid 1980's and that dealership was a rough place. The guys from Dudley Perkins HD warned me about working there, they were a bit nervous for me. But the main guy I worked with was named Conrad, he was the parts guy, a total Hells Angel but smart and kind and funny. The Oakland Hells Angels were legendary then, and not necessarily in a good legend way. But most everyone there was nice to me, I was the cute girl training them on software they needed. The kick for me was that Sonny Barger, the guy who started the Oakland chapter of Hells Angels, came into the Bob Dron store often. He had already had the laryngectomy and could only talk through a hole in his throat. He was pretty much on his way to prison for blowing up some other Hells Angels clubhouse. I have to say, he was a bit scary. I didn't like him, he and the hole in his throat creeped me out. (Barger and his crew were the guys responsible for knifing someone at the Altamont Music Festival in 1969, something most people have now forgotten.) Now he's an old guy, in his 70's, and when I see him on TV he looks ordinary. He was anything but ordinary in 1985. Even Hells Angels were wary of him.
All this is just casting back into the past, brought on by seeing Sonny Barger in an episode of "Sons of Anarchy." The motorcycle days were good, in a way. Bad in some ways as well, but, hey. We all have that. Good, bad, up, down. We learn, we move on.
.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Dogs, daughters, ice cream
Most of you reading this have not yet seen where I live. Most of you reading this have not met my daughter's dog Bebe. Therefore, most of you don't know that Bebe is a large dog, probably 80 pounds of solid mass. Some of you know that my dog, Cooper, is not large but as solid as a 23 pound dog could be. Cooper and Bebe are good pals. Bebe and her owner, my daughter Jenn, have spent a couple of nights here in the last week or two, and we have all had a good time. But honestly, in a space that is less than 325 square feet, two women (neither of which is small in personality nor in size) and two dogs (see above) need to be accommodating in order to make this scenario work. And accommodating we are.
I get up early and walk the dogs. The dogs are happy. I make Jenn coffee. She is happy. I go to work. Everyone is happy. Jenn leaves and goes to job interviews and she is happier still. See how this works? We give each other space, not a bad thing. The dogs, one large and one small, also know how to dance around each other and they do it well. Bebe, given her pit bull breed, is the softest, kindest, nicest dog I have ever known, and is afraid of loud cars, school buses, motorcycles and homeless men. Cooper, the small mutt, has learned that those loud cars, buses, scary men are harmless as long as I am around. Our morning walks are good. Bebe cowers often and yet is still happy, Cooper pees on every blade of grass. We all get along.
Some of you know that my relationship with my daughter has been/can be contentious. This past week, however, it has been wonderful. She has remarked, not unkindly, that the next time I move I might want to find a place with a workable kitchen. I do not dispute that fact. She comes with a blow up air mattress because my bed (and the closet it is in) does not lend itself to sharing so there is no guilt about sleeping uncomfortably. We both sleep well in our own small space. And finally, Jenn knows that getting take-out food is a very good idea. It makes up for the fact that the kitchen I have might ostensibly be a kitchen but is in reality another closet. We are all happy.
The other day, I foolishly bought some Ben and Jerry's Greek Yogurt ice cream, along with a pint of Talenti Sea Salt Caramel ice cream. Talenti found me in Whole Foods in Texas; it called out to me as I strolled down the frozen food aisle. Because it is made in Dallas, I thought it would not be available here in California. I was wrong. Not only is it available in Whole Foods, you can also get it in Safeway. On sale! So these two ice creams currently reside in my small freezer, side by side, competing, I foolishly thought, for my attention. This evening I was digging into the frozen Greek Yogurt ice cream, feeling a bit virtuous for eating something less onerous than the Sea Salt Caramel. But then I stupidly looked at the calorie count of that Greek concoction and it was 200 calories per serving, four servings per container and this was after I had already eaten at least one (no, more than one!!!) serving! What's the point of eating something that is made from yogurt of Greeks if it isn't low in calories? I ask you that! I could have finished the Sea Salt Caramel for a few more calories and been much happier! Oh Ben and Jerry, how you have tricked me!
I wish I could say I tossed the remaining Greek Yogurt trickster ice cream down the sink but I didn't. Calories, be damned! It still tasted fine, but not as fine as that Sea Salt Caramel ice cream. Make yourselves happy, get some!
.
I get up early and walk the dogs. The dogs are happy. I make Jenn coffee. She is happy. I go to work. Everyone is happy. Jenn leaves and goes to job interviews and she is happier still. See how this works? We give each other space, not a bad thing. The dogs, one large and one small, also know how to dance around each other and they do it well. Bebe, given her pit bull breed, is the softest, kindest, nicest dog I have ever known, and is afraid of loud cars, school buses, motorcycles and homeless men. Cooper, the small mutt, has learned that those loud cars, buses, scary men are harmless as long as I am around. Our morning walks are good. Bebe cowers often and yet is still happy, Cooper pees on every blade of grass. We all get along.
Some of you know that my relationship with my daughter has been/can be contentious. This past week, however, it has been wonderful. She has remarked, not unkindly, that the next time I move I might want to find a place with a workable kitchen. I do not dispute that fact. She comes with a blow up air mattress because my bed (and the closet it is in) does not lend itself to sharing so there is no guilt about sleeping uncomfortably. We both sleep well in our own small space. And finally, Jenn knows that getting take-out food is a very good idea. It makes up for the fact that the kitchen I have might ostensibly be a kitchen but is in reality another closet. We are all happy.
The other day, I foolishly bought some Ben and Jerry's Greek Yogurt ice cream, along with a pint of Talenti Sea Salt Caramel ice cream. Talenti found me in Whole Foods in Texas; it called out to me as I strolled down the frozen food aisle. Because it is made in Dallas, I thought it would not be available here in California. I was wrong. Not only is it available in Whole Foods, you can also get it in Safeway. On sale! So these two ice creams currently reside in my small freezer, side by side, competing, I foolishly thought, for my attention. This evening I was digging into the frozen Greek Yogurt ice cream, feeling a bit virtuous for eating something less onerous than the Sea Salt Caramel. But then I stupidly looked at the calorie count of that Greek concoction and it was 200 calories per serving, four servings per container and this was after I had already eaten at least one (no, more than one!!!) serving! What's the point of eating something that is made from yogurt of Greeks if it isn't low in calories? I ask you that! I could have finished the Sea Salt Caramel for a few more calories and been much happier! Oh Ben and Jerry, how you have tricked me!
I wish I could say I tossed the remaining Greek Yogurt trickster ice cream down the sink but I didn't. Calories, be damned! It still tasted fine, but not as fine as that Sea Salt Caramel ice cream. Make yourselves happy, get some!
.
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