WalMart

Not being a fan of Big Box Stores, I don't go to WalMart.  In fact, I think I have visited one maybe once in the past. But today I went. On my own.  OMG. 

The place was huge. It had a huge McDonald's restaurant right in the front door and I almost took refuge there and almost ordered an Egg McMuffin so I could pretend I was in a foreign state like Arizona, just traveling through, getting a little breakfast.  (This store opens at 6 in the morning, so that's something to keep in mind for the next road trip.)  But I soldiered on. Past the line of a hundred grocery carts, past McDonald's, always scanning, looking for the two small items I was searching for.  Did I mention that this place was gigantic?  I know there are bigger stores, ones they call something like WalMart Monstrosity in Texas. (I could be mistaken. Maybe they are called WalMart Superstores, but monstrosity would be better.) I walked and walked for miles, trying to find the aisle with furniture and the aisle with vacuums. I found the vacuum aisle and they had the bags I needed.  Furniture, sadly another story.

I am looking for a bookcase, preferably one that isn't a solid block of wood.  A folding bookcase would be great but I want one that is at least five feet tall. On line it appeared that WalMart had such a thing. In the store it was apparent that the Internet lied.  They had many things, many odd pieces of furniture, all in tidy boxes that a normal person could never lift.  A 7 foot couch, in a box.  A bookcase that was 6 feet long and 7 feet tall, in a box.  A combination bookcase, TV stand, storage cubicle, in a box. An entire portable bar with built-in ice bucket, in a box. None of these things worked for me.

With my two packages of vacuum bags in hand, I got lost trying to find the check-out aisle.  I ended  up in hunting and gathering equipment, fishing poles next to nets made for scooping up small animals to roast on the portable grill with the 50 pound bag of charcoal under the multi-colored portable shade tent.  And on top of all this, there is an entire grocery store that has not only groceries but treats like wine, beer, Jack Daniels (I was tempted to open a bottle right there in the store at 9:28 in the morning but the security personnel are wise.....the tops are covered with a security device that prevents drinking until you buy it. Sad.) and so much more.  Astonishing.  A entire aisle about 80 feet long of potato chips.  So much frozen food, I had no idea you can get frozen buffalo burgers, frozen cheese, frozen fried butter.  I looked for frozen human organs but I must have missed that aisle. I was starting to panic, expecting to see pod people from "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" or Steve McQueen running from "The Blob."  It felt like I was in another dimension, one not of sight nor sound.  Rod Sterling would have been a comfort at that point.

Finally I managed to check out, leave the building and return to my car.  It was a scary lesson in big stores.  It made Costco look friendly, small and intimate. I never want to return.  It's Crazy Town, that's all I have to say.

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Outside

It's getting close to six o'clock and I am sitting outside in the patio by the garden here at my small duplex.  The sun has left half the yard but the other half is still alive with bees.  Tall, graceful plants, some taller than me, have small blue flowers that the bees love.  They bounce from flower to flower, and then down to the thyme that is growing between the stepping stones, thyme that is seven or eight inches tall and lush and aromatic.  Cilantro plants have gone to seed and they look like lace with their tiny white tops.  Wild sage flowers compete with what I call "the plant of a thousand tiny daisies."  Tiny daisy-like flowers, about the size of a nickel.  In this yard are blues and yellows, reds and tangerine colors.  Some purple, some white, lots of green, of course, and some dark pink.  Not a lot of pink..... Laurel, the gardener, doesn't like pink so the colors are more intense than subtle. Tomato plants have blossoms, lettuce and beans and squash plants are all doing well and we still have lots and lots of chives and oregano that seem to be the plants that keeps on giving. I am drinking my favorite newly created summer drink, a cross between a whiskey sour and a mint julep and honestly, all is right with the world.

I have never been a gardener, definitely do not have a green thumb, and I have never lived in a place that had a garden like this. It's small, maybe 30 feet by 20 feet, and then there is the patio area which is additional and is bordered by huge black poppies and boysenberries and roses.  It is so nice to just sit and watch, see the hummingbirds swoop in, admire the energy of the bees, see Cooper stake out his place in the sun.  It is so calming.

OK, so this is the time to see the garden.  If any of you who read this blog get a hankering, come on up.  Sit with me, have a glass of wine and just enjoy the summer foliage.  It's great.

more later.

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Movie: "Beginners"

"Beginners"  might be the best movie I have seen in the last year, along with "Midnight in Paris."  (Well, "The Descendents" was pretty good, too.) If you haven't seen it, why not?  If you have seen it, you know what I mean.  It's quirky, funny, sad, real. 

At the end of the movie, as the credits were rolling, I was reminded that the character of Hal was played by Christopher Plummer.  That's how good is he, you forget there is an actor there playing this person.  He was simply Hal. 

The story is simple, an older man, in his 70's, buries his wife and then comes out as a gay man.  His son, in his late thirties, isn't sure what to make of this turn of events.  The older man, Hal, has only a short time to live and makes the most of that time.  It sounds maudlin and sad.  It isn't. It's happy, funny and a little sad but mostly it is real.  We all are struggling with our lives, trying to figure out what to do, trying to get it right.  That's all these people are doing as well. 

Ewan McGregor plays the slightly befuddled son, Oliver, who has major commitment issues himself. He is beginning a new relationship that he isn't sure he wants but knows he must pursue.  Neither he nor his father have been honest about themselves and their respective lives.  Now, as they confront Hal's impending death and Oliver's life beyond that, both of them have to come to terms with their internal demons, with each other and mostly with the future.  It's an excellent journey. 

In one scene, Oliver walks Hal's dog through its new home,  Oliver's house, pointing out the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. It is one of the most authentic moments I have seen in film in a long time.  It's what we all do, trying to get it right, talking out loud in order to not face the silence, hoping that by comforting another living thing we can find comfort ourselves.  In fifteen seconds, it captures the movie's main point: we are just trying to be OK. Plus, the dog is charming, and has wonderful lines, in little dialogue balloons over its head.   Sounds stupid but it works.

Really, go out and rent this movie.  It will make you happy.

Birthday

Great weekend.  I scooted out of the inn yesterday at 5:30, pretty early for me, with the excuse to the guests that it was my birthday and there was dinner waiting for me.  The guests practically shoved me out the door.  (Hmm, that might not be a good sign.)  Had a delicious dinner with my brother Steve, his best girl/friend Martha and their pal Michael.  Steve cooks ribeye steaks to perfection, and he pulled out a 12 year old wine that was possibly the best wine I've had in a couple of years.  Great time.

This morning all the guests at the inn said "Happy Birthday" to me, which was sweet, and they all had had a wonderful time in Healdsburg and thus left happy and wanting to return.

Then I drove to meet another brother, John, and his love Emily for lunch in Novato and we had a delicious and long lunch at Tavola, excellent service, nice menu, good time was had by all.

Now I am sitting in the garden of my small place, it is still hot outside but the garden smells good and the sun is low enough to give us shade.  It has been a nice weekend.  With people giving me love, it's OK to get another year older.

Well, sort of.  It's inevitable so why not just say 'yes' and move along.

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Get moving

Probably because I am reading a book that is set in the south and involves a road trip to get there, I am really jonesing to be somewhere else right now.  I never thought I would say this but for a moment today (like five minutes ago) I was wishing I was in Texas. (I know, call the mind police!)   I miss my girl and her adorable dog. I miss the tall bed in the extra bedroom, too tall even for Cooper to jump up on. (I had to get him a step stool to get onto the bed, believe it or not.)  I miss Jenn's great kitchen (don't get me started on my small kitchen here) and I miss iced coffee, which simply doesn't taste good anywhere except in the south.   But I think, bottom line, is I am missing a long, winding road trip to get to Texas. 

It's not that I don't like my life, I certainly do.  I like my tiny duplex, I love the garden here,  I am delighted with my cool neighborhood and I enjoy my job.  Life right now is good.  But that nagging feeling of restlessness is still haunting me and reading a book that drops me right in the middle of long, straight roads at the crack of dawn..... well, let's just say that as content as I feel about most of my life, I also know that getting in the car and driving anywhere for six days would not be a bad thing.

Ah, yes, but this will pass.  And if it doesn't, I can definitely hold it off until winter.  Come December I will either be on a plane to a foreign city or in my car to destinations unknown.  In the meantime I will have fever dreams of driving and I will read books that will take me away, at least in my mind. Thank goodness for good writers who can do that.

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Not bitching

OK, I take it back.  The people this morning were all lovely, happy, gracious and they loved their French Toast and sausage and fruit, ate every scrap.  Even the peeps I complained about yesterday were charming this morning. See what a good night sleep does?  Not just for them, but for me. 

Just wanted you all to know that I am not a grouchy innkeeper, at least not all the time.  Just when I want to be.

Bitching

Because my posts lately have been happy and cheery, not cranky and angst-ridden, I fear my handful of readers out there (and you know who you are!) will think I have lost my cynical mind and am slowly turning into Mary Poppins or Pollyanna or Julia Roberts, or some other fool who smiles all the time.  Alas, that is not to be!  This post will prove it.

This is a familiar rant, familiar to all who have known me for the past 20 years, which my innkeeper career spans.  I know this is a service job, as most jobs in the hospitality industry are.  But come on guests, when I specifically state to you that breakfast is served around 9:00, why do you insist on showing up at 9:45?  Or not showing up at all, leaving me to wonder if I should throw your breakfast into the trash or throw it in your face if I ever see you again.  If you want to be late, tell me.  If you don't want to eat, tell me.  If you are anti-social and don't want to eat with others, tell me. I am fine with all that.  It's the hanging around in limbo that is most infuriating.

Then, when you do come down for breakfast after EVERYONE ELSE HAS FINISHED AND HAS LEFT THE TABLE, please don't ask if there are more sausages or bacon.  Please don't tell me, at that late moment, that you don't like orange juice and do I have any other juice.  Don't ask for a new pot of coffee.  It ain't gonna happen and it is not making me like you.  It is making me want to yell "You are stupid!  Go Away!"  And then throw food in  your face.

And what about the folks who ask for a specific check-in time, like the ones I am waiting for at this very minute.  "Can we check in before 3:15 because we have a tasting scheduled at 3:30?"  I say "Well, sure!"  and I live up to my end of the deal by actually being here.  Are they here?  NO!  have they called?  NO!  Will they have the courtesy of calling anytime soon?  Probably not.  Do I care about them now, do I want to make them happy, do I look forward to serving them breakfast in the morning?  NO!  Do I want to yell "You are stupid" at them?  YES!  But I won't. 

This is not a hotel.  We do not have staff.  There are no minions to serve them, there is just me.  And today I wasted a good chunk of time waiting around, both this morning for tardy breakfast dolts and now late arrivals.  

Yes, in the large scheme of things, this is nothing.  It is my job and I get paid to sit here but it still is annoying.   Ah, I feel better now, getting that off my chest.  (Not really, but I am good at faking chest things.)

Insert happy, smiling face here and have a nice day!

(Silently retching.)

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