Poeming: Hovering

In case you thought me dead, not posting for a month, I am indeed quite alive and visiting the GrandBrits (and their parents) in England. The poetry prompt over at Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides this Wednesday was to write an "on the road" poem. This was the result.

I would be the coolest ever if I took this photo--but I didn't.

HOVERING


I lean to the left
but not too far–
enough to keep my
neighbor from
sleeping
on my shoulder
but not so far
my elbow succumbs
(again)
to the metal cart
passing by.
twisting yoga-like
to skip to the loo
(my darling)
out and back in
to my space,
it’s ten hours
on the sky-road
(again)
to see my
grandBrits—
totally
absolutely
worth it.


jle 2013

More Cornwall wanderings, now that my cold isn't making me feel as nasty.

We went "on holiday" (as the Brits say) to St. Ives, a seaside town on the Cornish coast full of tiny houses on narrow rambling streets. Each little corner you turn on each tiny street (which you share with cars by plastering yourself against the nearest wall) gives a new view of another cute little house or stair or garden.

People here seemed to love their dogs, as everywhere i looked there was a dog or six.

See what i mean about "around every corner"? And the sign painted on the street directs one to the Car Park, where the cars go to play for their holiday.

When i saw the establishment below, i wanted to sing "... Alive, alive- o..." (Okay, so i did sing. i love singing in random places.)

                                  

A visual treat around every corner!

This store disappointed me when i realized it only sold clothing--the name promises so much more, like artery clotting clotted cream...or maybe fish and chips...or big hunks of beef.

i wandered through a gallery with several on site artists. i had a great chat with this artist while she was working on a painted portrait of a dog. Seriously, people love their dogs in England.

We watched the local wildlife for a while as we wandered the streets of St. Ives,

then went to have a pub lunch. i love the pubs in England--the ones i've been in are friendly places to take a family, and have pretty decent food and prices.

We sat directly beneath the well-used dart board with its list of dart leagues and players. It reminded me of lots of British and Irish movies i've seen. i assume they rearrange the seating when the darts are actually being thrown.

Ice cream stands and ice cream shops were everywhere, so of course we had to partake sitting on the benches facing the water.

And my tough little grandBrits were happy to be playing barefoot in the sand, even though Grandma julie wore her coat and scarf and often her gloves the whole time we were there.

Beautiful, tranquil, off-season St. Ives was a thing of beauty. Hope i get to see it again.

Stuff i didn't know about grapes.

Today was a hugely informative day.

Aren't these red leaves beautiful? But they're bad. The red means the vine has a virus. Yellow is normal for fall, red is bad.

To get really good grapes, careful pruning is essential. At the Von Strasser Winery, we got some one-on-one time with Dave, who showed us the equipment and the vineyard, and gave us the mini-tour overview. i loved what we learned. The pruning process happens once the leaves have all fallen from the vine. For you out there who are happy and informed gardeners, this probably is not new. For me, a semi-happy and largely UNinformed gardener, this was an "Oh. That makes sense." Anyway, our new friend Dave said that for them to get the best grapes, they will trim those little branches back to two offshoots. Otherwise the branches will go all wild and crazy, growing every which way, and pulling too much of the nutrients from the soil. More unpruned growth means less nutrition per branch equals poor quality grape flavor. (There was a lot more but i won't go all Encyclopedia Britannica on ya.)

Dave sent us over to Charles Krug Winery where i had a lovely chat with Ralph. Everybody at Krug loves Dave--he used to work there. Ralph gave me the lowdown on the difference between hillside grapevines and valley grapevines. Seems the difference in how the sun touches the vines makes a difference. There's the constant outpour on the valley plants, and the gentler change of the sun and breezes on the hillside plants. Those differences even in the same state can make quite a change in the fruit--the milder hillside climate yielding a smoother flavor. Now, i'm sure i've butchered Ralph's explanation all to pieces, but that's the basic understanding i came away with.

He also explained ice wines--made places like British Columbia and Washington state, where the vines are left with grapes still on into the freezing temperatures. This causes the whole ice expansion thing that pops the skins of the grapes, and then when the moisture evaporates, a super sweet low-water/high-sugar grape is left for dessert type wines. In California they use some other process involving a naturally forming mold. Ralph started losing me there, my mind being somewhat full by that point in the conversation. i always thought mold was a bad thing, but apparently it can be part of a good process.

So, just to recap: Those pretty red leaves actually mean something bad. Careful pruning means higher quality fruit. The grapes that grow over a certain amount of feet above sea level will taste different than the ones grown in the valley. And freezing your grapes can be a good thing, as can letting them mold.

Some of this made sense, and some was quite the opposite of what i thought should make sense. Some of it has very clear spiritual application, like the whole pruning thing--"I am the vine, you are the branch. If a man remains in me and I in him, you can bear much fruit. Without me you can do nothing." (It's in the book of John, 15th chapter.) Some of the other i'm still pondering. Still not sure about the whole mold thing.

We're here! We're here! We're here!

In Calistoga, that is--at the top of the Napa Valley here in California. The colors of autumn are outside my window (above): trees covered in shades of yellow, green, orange and red. It rained earlier, so the trees and bushes sparkle in the morning light. Fog is hanging in the top of the dark green hill in the distance. Even the gray of the parking lot, dotted as it is with red leaves that have fallen, adds to the color scheme. These are colors that make my soul say "AHH!" Happy sigh of the soul, i guess.

Yesterday was a feast for the senses--the newness of experiences does that to me. i'm choosing to name it that rather than call it "being overwhelmed." It's that choice, i guess, of viewing it in a positive, non-stressed way, rather than the negative. i think it's easier for me to be positive now that i'm not as worried about my imperfections both real and perceived. Somehow, growing up in my *interesting* household, i learned that I Should Know Everything And Never Make A Mistake. Now, that's a whole lot of pressure for a kid! And whether or not anyone got up in the morning and said, "Hmm, I think we should teach our children that they must never make a mistake," that was clearly what i picked up. When this goes with you in life it makes everything about life more nerve wracking. "Should i have the windshield wipers on? Nobody else does, but it's sprinkling, but i'll look stupid!" (No joke, i can clearly remember the intersection where i had that thought.)

Anyway, back to yesterday's feast--this valley has its own magic. The buildings, the vineyards, the atmosphere of contented visitors (well, except for the one couple with their pre-teen daughter--the adults were making much more of a disturbance than they seemed to think their daughter was, since they felt the need to tell her off--LOUDLY--in the crowded winery gift store. That kid's gonna need therapy.)

Let me show you the sights that spoke--loudly--to my senses:


Buildings:

V. Sattui winery


Peju winery



Copper roof at Peju winery



Gardens, flowers, and foliage:

Peju grounds


V. Sattui gardens


Across the vineyards
from Peju parking lot


V. Sattui



Grapes, up close and personal,
Beringer winery


Relics:

Cool old truck at V. Sattui



Sign on V. Sattui truck



A real Sattui! George Sattui.


Dean and i!


Now, back out to have more fun--

Off to Calistoga!!

And a big thanks to Kerne Erickson, artist, and AllPosters.com for this illustration of the Napa Valley in all its fruity goodness.

To me, the sight of rows upon rows of grape vines on a rolling hillside is mesmerizing. It has texture, it has beauty.

Anyway, being farmingly and gardeningly challenged, i don't know what will be the status of the grapevines in October, but i'm just happy to be going! There's a room at the end of our travels today that i don't have to clean, with a bed i don't have to make. There are meals i don't have to prepare. i'm happy!

When i was a kid, we had an uncle who was a traveling salesman. (Please hold the jokes--i'm trying to.) He traveled to that far away golden land of *California*. We lived in Portland, Oregon, the land of a winter full of gray skies. He brought us a map of the Napa, Sonoma, and Mendocino area, and spoke of Wine Country. i memorized that trio of delightful words that felt so good on the tongue--"Napa, Sonoma, Mendocino. Napa, Sonoma, Mendocino." It meant vines full of juicy grapes and the land of neverending sunshine, to my young mind. The words still roll from my lips from time to time, like imagining my happy place.

Of course, back then i had no idea i would one day LIVE in that magical land, California... There are no grapevines in my neck of the woods, but we do have some rolling hills, and the sun really does shine and the skies really are blue a huge percentage of the time. And unlike my childhood winters, here my wool coat very seldom gets worn, as i can usually settle for long sleeves and closed-toe shoes, and maybe a sweater.

But regardless of the state of the vines in the Napa Valley in the month of October, i'm thrilled to be headed to Calistoga.

i'll keep you posted.

Julie & The Week Of Many Colors

Wow. It's been quite a week, and today is only Thursday. First there was my birthday on Sunday, with the Sushi House in Alameda, and Beverly's craft store, and cheesecake at my oldest daughter's house with the crazy-funny grandchildren.

Then Monday i lost my cell phone. Feeling somewhat philosophical, since i've done this before and found it before, i got on with my life.

Tuesday i went to part 2 of Chronic Pain Management Clinic's overview class. We discussed drugs of many shapes and sizes and how they work, and i think some of us tucked away some ideas for "dang, that one sounds like fun!" We received our Letters of Recommendation from the Clinic staff for which group they think we should be in. Mine is the intensive one--5 weeks of 4 hours 4 days a week, and a family support group meeting on Friday afternoons for those 5 weeks to which we bring a family or friend support person. They've found, in the 27 years this clinic has been running, that people with support tend to retain the positive results of the program much longer. i had mixed feelings about being put in the intensive program--do they think i really need straightening out? Do they think i'm that messed up? Or did i just exaggerate on the many-paged questionaire? Or are they just trying to kill me and get me out of the Kaiser health system? One thing was for sure--where many people got appointments with their letter because the staff felt they needed more information, mine came appointment free, because, you know me, there were words to spare on my questionaire!

At this point, still no phone. But i'm not too worried. It will show up.

That day, Tuesday, was also my 31st anniversary, not to mention the anniversary of the whole 9-11 awfulness. But we were there first--we had staked our claim on 9-11 many years before. And a side note, i know 4 other couples with anniversaries on 9-11, how weird is that? If it were a date in June i might expect it, but September? We celebrated by Dean going to work and me going to the pain clinic class. i was pretty tired by the end of all that, (plus the shopping at the HUGE Michael's craft store in Union City where the clinic is) so we ate leftover pizza for dinner and stayed home! Ah, the wild things we are, 31 years into this relationship. We'll celebrate on a weekend, we decided. Not this coming one, however, because one of those couples who share the date is having a 25th wedding anniversary party on Sunday, my good friend Julia and her hubby Greg.

Still no phone--we've called my daughter, asked the grandkids, checked under the furniture in the house, and the seats of the cars. i've even cleared out some stacks of papers on the kitchen counter in hopes of finding it buried in their depths. But no.

Wednesday night my good friend Melanie comes over to help me play with stuff for our friend Julia's anniversary photo album. We both love all the crafty gadgets and goodies, and agree that shopping for the stickers/papers/inks/pens/stamps etc for the project is just as much fun as actually using them. Therefore, we both have a mighty fine assortment to choose from at any given moment. Plus she is good for my cooking confidence--i've never thought of myself as a particularly good cook. i mean, nobody has ever starved to death on my watch, but they aren't exactly lined up on the front steps for my recipes and meals, either. But she tells me i am a fine cook, and eats what i make without complaint, but then we tend to like the same stuff--pasta, comfort food creaminess, chocolate. Anyway, we had eaten and were playing with the table full of scrapbooking goodies when my youngest daughter called from the train in Spain (falls mainly on the plain? No wait--that's the rain--.)

"We have a situation," she said somewhat calmly for someone calling at great expense from their cell phone in a foreign country. "We had bedbugs in the sleeper car on the train," pausing to let me absorb that bit of information. "And they're in everything. Do you have any idea how to get rid of them?" Well, if she was calling me for support and help, i may have not made the best choice of responses, as i immediately got very icked out. EEEEWWWW!!! BUGS!!!!! Apparently she had been unable to sleep, and turned on the light, and saw the little bugs all over their stuff and they had bites on them as well. EEEEEEEWWWW shudder.... i'm itching now just thinking about it.

"Let me go jump on the computer and look bedbugs up on the internet," i say. And jump i did. Nasty little buggers they are, bloodsuckers with an attitude. i read her what i'm finding, and most of it is descriptions of the little lovelies--who needs that, she has the actual bugs to study--HOW do you get RID of them?? While we're looking at that, hubby Luis goes off to find someone in the train to tell--they're in Spain, he speaks Spanish, it seems right. But apparently there aren't a lot of people up in the middle of the night Spain train time. i read what i can find about how to kill the little buggers (i'll never again be quite as casual about saying "the little buggers") in between shuddering and saying "Oh i'm so sorry! That is so gross and disturbing!" She promises to let me know what they find out. It is so bad that Luis picks up his jacket and the bugs sprinkle out. This is NOT how sleeper trains are on movies. Often someone is knifed to death or poisoned or some such thing, but there are never bedbugs.

All evening my dear hubby asks me questions about my phone at intervals: do i rememember picking it up Sunday night? Where else could it possibly be? Twenty minutes of silence. Did you check your pockets?

Melanie calls it a night, i stack our supplies for further use on Saturday. Hubby has already headed up to bed--he gets up at a time that i could much more easily stay up till.

i do all the usual light-turning-off and door locking and go upstairs where i flip the light on in our closet to find my jammies. Something catches my eye--a smallish dark object laying in the floor of the closet--"i just found my phone!!!" i exclaim happily. Even from where he is already trying to sleep Dean is happy.

i take that moment to plug the phone in (it's quite thoroughly dead) and text a message to Corinne on the night train in Spain: "Nighty night, and don't let the you-know-whats bite."

And it's only Thursday.

"Six Days, Five Nights," Maui.

We got this great vacation package offer from the Sheraton Maui, waaay back last summer. Perfect celebration of our 30 years of marriage! Trouble was, their dates filled up so quickly that the first available time was this April. Then i broke my toe, got the cast, etc etc. So we rescheduled to May 10th, three days after the cast came off of my AWEsomely hairy leg. So here is the accounting of random thoughts on the too short vacation, kept in my tiny purse size notebook:

Thursday, 10th May, 2007. We hoped for first class, (as we airline employees and spouses do) and got cattle class. Oh well, we're still on our way to Maui! i sat with a couple from Cape Cod who were celebrating a friend's 50th birthday along with three other couples. Great conversation, friendly people. Dean sat with a guy who never said a single word for the entire 5 hour flight.

Arrived at the Sheraton Maui feeling out of place--valet parking? We're more accustomed to the kind of accomodations with the loud ice machine in the hall outside our door. Everybody smiles and says "Aloha" when they see you--

Nice lunch at the Something-or-Other-Terrace in the hotel--easygoing wait staff. Made me think about restaurants at home, people taking themselves so seriously-- The hotel restaurants are sort of boundary-less, and you can approach from all sides--people wander in from the beach with towels wrapped around them, somebody greets them with "Aloha" and a relaxed smile and asks to help them. At home things seem so much more prescribed and edged. We watched birds landing on neighboring tables to steal leftover fries waiting to be cleared, nobody chases them away--we fed them crumbs from our rolls. Tiny birds argued with medium size birds, and everybody seemed to get something.

Nice room, pretty private lanai facing onto a grassy yard bordered by flowers--upgrading to an ocean view room was going to double the cost of the whole trip, so "garden view" it is!

Friday the 11th--i felt sexy for five minutes on Friday--i put on my gauzy black skirt and a tank top, and was standing with one foot up on the edge of the counter, shaving my leg. i glanced over and caught a view of myself in the mirrored closet door, and thought, "Hmm...not bad..."

Dean went for a brisk walk so i bought myself a vanilla latte and some canteloupe and blueberries at the hotel's coffee cart. i sat alone at one of those high tables in my gauzy skirt and concentrated on looking mysterious...

We drove a ways up the coast from Kanapaali, where the Sheraton is, stopping alongside the road every now and again to look at the amazing ocean view spread out far below us--at one stop we walked to the water through rainforest looking trees, all densely topped and dripping with vines, the ground covered with a deep floor of a vining plant--beautiful! And all this with my adorable sock and "post-op" black shoe covered right foot.

8pm and we're sitting at the Lagoon Bar out by the beach, listening to a guitar playing guy singing pop songs--currently "Margaritaville" AND they have Orna-Glow type candles on the tables! For those of you unfamiliar with the Orna-Glow concept, one Christmas my friend Julia gave each of us in Bible study group an Orna-Glow tree ornament. It glows, phasing through different colors. An instant hit, we have spent the ensuing years delighting over every other Orna-Glow sort of find--Melanie thrilling us all with her (snowman?) addition to the Orna-Glow family last Christmas. And where are the Orna-Glow coasters Sabrina used for a time? ANYway, wish i could buy these candles from the bar!

The singer is having creative fun with the words to the songs--in Margaritaville, instead of "Don't know the reason/Stayed here all season/With nothing to show but this brand new tattoo./But it's a real beauty/A Mexican cutie/ how it got here I haven't a clue." he's singing, "don't know the reason/stayed here all season/with nothing to show but this brand new sunburn/but it's a real beauty/back there on my bootie/how it got there i haven't a clue."

There are all shapes and sizes of couple out--several spontaneously swaying and dancing together to the songs, out along the beach and edges of the bar--

Saturday the 12th--We bought coffees at the cart again, sat in this lovely seating area on a veranda-like part of the building talking. We rented a blue topped cabana on the beach (40 bucks!!) and lounged about and napped and read till just before dinner, cleaned up and ate at the Lagoon Bar and watched the Cliff Dive ceremony at dusk--very relaxing. Chatted with a woman from Minnesota and her visiting friend from Germany.

While in the cabana a cute little young couple was passing--she saw me and stopped and said "Oh! Would you mind taking a picture for us?" i said, "Sure! If i looked like you two i'd be having everyone ON this beach taking my picture--" They had a sweetly happy and unassuming air about them, and those firm young bodies that come naturally only to the 20 year olds--She had a head full of long dark curly hair and a tiny tropical print bikini, and he leaned over and kissed her and gave her a quick squeeze as they posed--So cute. Dean has taken a couple of photos for couples on the trip too--it makes people so happy.

Sunday the 13th, Mother's Day-- We got coffee at the cart again and skipped the 50 bucks a head Mother's Day brunch at the Terrace restaurant--took a really nice drive down the coast this time, ending at a lava field place with a gorgeous bay with black and white rock beach--

Back up to Lahaina where we had lunch at the Cool Cat Cafe (seriously.) and walked through an art fair outside the old courthouse under the famous banyan trees--i bought a print of a woman's watercolor painting of the old courthouse--her name was Marjorie. My mother's name. On Mother's Day. Crazy, eh? There were a number of older bohemian type women there selling their art, gaunt, gray, in flowing clothes--and some rather ordinary men and women who just looked like people you'd see at Back To School Night--

i ate a mango that was off of somebody's tree! How cool, mango trees in your yard--i know we are blessed to have citrus trees in California, but mango sounds so, well, tropical. i suppose because it is.

Monday the 14th-- We're driving along the coast highway on our way to the Island Paperie, "the only scrapbooking store on the island!" It's in Kahului, not far from the airport. When i told Dean i wanted to go there he groaned, but being a good sport he'll take me anyway.

Chain link is draped over the lava rock walls along the highway like a fine net skirt--

Continuing our drive after the Island Paperie (very well stocked, i must say, with many many beautiful and special Hawaii papers) we drove up into the neighborhoods and up the mountain to the Iao Valley--we ate lunch at a funky little nature area behind a gift shop, a pretty good crab and avocado sandwich for a place operating out of a kitchen with walk up service at a screened window, and a patio of battered and weather worn outdoor furniture.

We watched a couple of local guys jumping off the bridge at the Iao Valley walk into the 6 1/2 foot deep, narrow river 30 feet below, for tips--like a street musician. i thanked them for being crazy, it was fun watching! And way better them than me--

We drove around looking at the local houses, both new and really old, many with wide eaves serving i suppose as a way to shade the houses from the tropical heat, some wide enough to cover shady porches. We saw quail, 2 adults flanking a bunch of tiny babies, walking purposefully up a street and into a yard--so cool!!

Tuesday the 15th, and sadly, the sixth day and time to go home--We've had some great talks, great drives, read and basically just RELAXED. Time to return the car and to reality, hopefully somewhat restored. We spent last night chasing the sunset around the hotel--the Sheraton is spread over quite a large area, with a number of buildings. We wandered through all the areas searching for the best place to get photos as the sun went down. The colors change so as the sun goes down, its own tropical Orna-Glow...

What i did on my summer vacation.

My hubby and i got to spend time last month on two different farms. We visited relatives in Alabama where the young folk still say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir," where we stayed on one cousin's farm. Wow. Acres and acres of green pasture are anchored by the light and airy farmhouse. Horses wander lazily nearby. My damp Portland Oregon roots sighed happily at all the green-ness.

The occasion was the 60th wedding anniversary of my hubby's uncle and aunt--wow, huh?--at pretty much the same time as WE are celebrating our 30th! And i was impressed with that many years (Kind of in a "jeez, are we that old?" kind of way...) But apparently all that green comes at a cost--humidity--cousin Lea Ann said, "We call it 'air you can wear.'"

We had a lovely time visiting with our too infrequently seen relatives who welcomed us and fed us well and put us up in our own "apartment." (We too have a special place we can let people stay at our house--if ya don't mind all the boxes of Christmas decorations stacked along the bedside...it's that ambiance that says "homey, but not in a good way." )

And the countryside in Alabama--i want this view out my front door! --->
There was even a rather spectacular thunder/lightning/rain storm for entertainment--let me tell ya, that thunder and lightning bit sure seems closer out there in all that open land. And greenness abounds there, it seems--Uncle Joe and Aunt Pat's house has an actual woods in the backyard, and the church we attended better have some riveting sermons, because the walls behind the pulpit were windows looking out onto fields of green and trees...my eyes only wandered a little....

THEN we moved on to a farm in Canada--as in a working farm with crops and harvesting and all those things unfamiliar to my town-bred self. It's the family farm of my good friend Adina, in Plum Coulee, Manitoba. Her two sisters, brother, and brother-in-law were home as well, bringing the temporary household count to 9 adults, 1 almost adult (just kidding, Dorian!) and a baby. Here i am frustrated--i don't seem to be able to add a particular picture i have of the farm. So picture for yourself: a vast expanse of fields surrounding a collection of granaries, house, barns, and trees, fronted by a gravel road--all washed in a translucent rose-colored late afternoon light. And picture a big ol' red tractor with my Kansas born husband driving, a very nostalgic experience for him--although this time he could reach the pedals, no longer being 8--

<-- here's a shot of that red tractor between the granaries

Oh--and both farms had gardens--in Alabama, a softly overflowing cottage style flower garden, and in Plum Coulee, a garden full of poppies, vegetables, and fruit trees. The really disturbing part? The garden in Manitoba is larger than the plot of ground that defines our entire California homestead. Anyway, in Canada they humored me and let me play at gardening. i, who am duly impressed when i can keep a rose bush alive for more than a season, got to help harvest the remaining beans. And we had a campfire out in the backyard one night! How crazy is that? i mean, if i imagine building a fire in our backyard i know it would mean either the house or the fence or the neighbor's place (or all three) likely going up in smoke.

We attended the family's Mennonite church on the Sunday, and ate some of the meals that say "comfort food" to Adina--and i have to say, i'm good with that whole watermelon and fritter thing they call a meal! (They don't call it a fritter--it actually has a German name that i can almost say but definitely can't spell--) But, oh yum!

It was a great month, whether at a family celebration in Alabama, or a family meal or cup of coffee around the table in Plum Coulee. i won't go all philosophical and sentimental on you, but i loved watching the families in action. There's a commonality to the kinds of families who like each other, evidenced by the shared jokes and knowledge of and grace for each other. i know a lot of what helps both these families give grace is their own experience of God's unconditional love and with that, how can they give anything less to each other?

But even after my summer vacation of farms, i still don't know where the phrase "he bought the farm" comes from. Any thoughts?*

*Cousin Lea Ann has a link to the possible origins of the phrase: http://www.snopes.com/language/phrases/farm.htm