Spectacular!

Heroes.

I find myself with an extra day of summer break because I had to go visit this guy (on the second day of school, which I find amusing.  "Hi, kids. Bye, kids.")

Want to give a shout-out to Dr. Robert Avery, who I met Monday, September 21, 2014 just before emergency surgery to re-attach the retina in my right eye.  Full detachment, including the macula, that occurred over an almost-three-week-period.  Usually you don't wait that long to figure out why your eye seems to be filling with putrid pond water, but that was the three-week period during which school started and my husband died, so I was more than a little preoccupied with other things.

The surgery was actually entertaining.  They put me under general anesthetic just long enough to completely deaden the eye with locals, then brought me up so that I could respond to instructions if needed.  They didn't need any help from me, but it was interesting to "see" the procedure from behind a blue plastic mask.  If I had any discomfort at all it was my frustration at the conversation.

They were talking about concerts they'd seen at the Santa Barbara Bowl, my favorite venue for anything.  I wanted to contribute, but somehow flapping one's jaw while someone was using a laser in their eye didn't seem prudent.

I had several follow-up visits with Dr. Avery over the course of the last two years.  As warned, I noticed my vision in that eye not improving as well as might be hoped because the cataract that had been developing over the previous dozen years bloomed following the retinopathy (and vitrectomy).  So, once I got the "all is well" after a year of healing, I was back to see another medical hero of mine.

I've been a patient of Dr. Stuart Winthrop for over thirty-five years.  At one visit, he and his optician and I all compared notes and learned we were all the same age, so you might say we've grown up together.  Sort of.
 
There is nobody I trust with any part of my life the way I trust this doctor with my eyes, so when he said it was time for cataract surgery, I was all go.  I had to postpone the timing a little.  Because of the complications caused by having no vitreous solution (a gel-like substance in the eye that acts like a cushion during normal cataract surgery), Dr. Winthrop wanted to use new technology for the best result possible.  Insurance didn't cover that, so I needed some time to save the money.

Once I had it, though, we were full steam ahead.  That was another interesting, eye-witness experience.  (tee hee)

I had my follow-up on that one early this summer.

I really am trying to learn not to be such a people-pleaser, but admit that it was such a pleasure to watch this man go through my file and see what he'd accomplished.  In 2001 he had done my lasik, which took me from being legally blind (since fourth grade) to normal vision.  Within a year, though, the vision in my right eye had slipped 50% of the way back and he had the sad task of informing me that this developing nearsightedness was the first symptom of a cataract.

I know few people as dignified as Stuart Winthrop, so it would be too big a stretch to say he was giddy at the result of his surgery.  But he was close.  And when I asked him to "consider himself hugged," he accepted it with pride.

Anyway, today was my follow-up - first one post-cataract surgery - with Dr. Avery.  Who is also a dignified man who trembled on the edge of giddiness when he saw the result of my vision test.  When he greeted me and asked how I was, I responded "spectacular."  He then checked the scans and used the word back to me, then checked into the eye and recapped where I'd been and declared the recovery, "SPECTACULAR."

These two men have taken me from no vision due to a complete macular detachment two years ago to 20/25 vision in that eye today.  I don't think I've EVER had 20/25 vision without corrective lenses in my life. I am fully functional, and able to do simply everything I want to do that requires decent vision.

The day of my last appointment with Stuart (in Santa Barbara) I treated myself to chowder and calamari at The Enterprise for lunch, then went out on a whale watch (we had to settle for a huge pod of dolphins, oh gee darn) to celebrate how well I can see.  I can do my fine embroidery and soak up the sunset.  The new lens is actually "set" for the computer monitor distance, so I'm more comfortable using glasses for greater distances (especially when I'm driving) but otherwise I just do whatever I want.

I want to celebrate today, but since I'm back in Weight Watchers (82 down, 40 up, 25 down, 7 up) and in the detox-from-sugar stage, I will forego the food part of the party and just enjoy writing this celebratory post.

Which includes a recap of my "spectacular" summer.  Best one in a long time.  Maybe ever.

I noticed a few years ago that the more productive I am over a vacation break, the longer the break seems and the more satisfied I am with the memory.  So I set some goals for myself.

I didn't achieve all of them because I was determined to just do stuff for the fun of it and not beat myself into a stress mess if I didn't get everything perfect (another character challenge I'm dealing with.)  I had fun and got quite a lot done that I had set for myself.

I started with my backyard pond.  I built it (I mean, I BUILT it, not that I hired someone to do it) about 15-20 years ago.  Fortunately, my yard is really easy to dig (mostly fill, which means not much grows in it, but it is easy to dig), but I was thrilled when I got all the holes and placement right the first time.  (The only way to know that is to fill it all up and turn on the pump.)  Now it is that many years later and it had developed a full crop of duckweed (one of my favorite water plants) that I could not get rid of.  Since it uses up all the oxygen in the water, everything else died off.  The only thing I could think to do was let all the water evaporate then let the weed die off.

A year later I was ready to start the refurbishment.

The first thing I had to do was scrape and scrub out all the dead stuff clinging to the sides of the pond, then sweep out the big chunks.

Which was when I discovered a tiny crack at the bottom edge of the lowest level's vinyl pre-formed shell.  This explained why I was having trouble with the water level (I thought it just evaporation), but was not good news.  I researched patching, but my gut feeling was that even if I was successful at patching, I was probably facing more cracking over time.  So, I decided to invest in a new liner.

Which meant moving the rock collection.  Which was not good for my back.  Or knees.  But I am stubborn.

The best way to check that I had the liner the way I wanted it was - again - to fill the pond.  Happily - again - I had it the way I wanted it so was able to trim it down and return the rocks.

 

I only worked in the cool of the morning, so it took a little over a week to get this much done.  The pump still worked so I had it making pretty water music pretty fast.  At this point I left it and moved to another project.

It must have been about 1975 when my husband and I took a day-trip up to Solvang and wandered the shops.  One artist had a display of almost life-sized pelicans perched on pier pilings.  We both fell in love with them, but at about $170 each and up, we didn't feel we could afford the extravagance.  He then proceeded to whine, "We should have bought the pelican," all the way home and for the next several weeks.

That year, I decided to do something that was, for me at that point, very daring and brave.  I saved the money, then took myself off to Solvang to buy him the pelican for Christmas.  Today I smile at that youngster, gathering her courage to go drive those highways along the coast and through the hills.  Today I haul myself all over the place and enjoy it.  But I was in my early 20s then and not nearly so tough.

I got the thing home in time to hide it, and it was - I believe - his favorite Christmas gift in the over forty years we were married.  So he felt a special sadness when he broke off the beak in the last weeks of his life.  I didn't know how to fix the beak, but didn't have the heart to just throw the bird out so saved the pieces.  After my husband died, I moved the pelican outside (the beak just nagged at me) where it wasn't so noticeable and where it actually looked awesome next to the pond.

One of the things I wanted to try over the summer was repairing the pelican.  I researched adhesives and decided to try the white Gorilla Glue.  Armed with the broken pieces, the glue and some painter's tape, I spent part of a morning doing reconstructive surgery on this bird.  I decided his name was Harold.  Not sure where that came from, but I was in a reminiscent mood working on the thing, and probably my subconscious was remembering going to see Music Man with Dick Van Dyke as Harold Hill.  Whatever.

Anxious for a full recovery, Harold cooperated fully with his doctor's instructions to, "Just lie still, now."  The next morning I removed the bandages and, with the exception of his rather remarkable scar that may require further plastic surgery, he is looking very healthy again.  He is much relieved.

This is another little souvenir that fell apart and only took me twenty years to gather all the parts together to repair him.  I got this in a tiny gift shop along the road outside Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park along Highway 1 the first year I "met" this stretch of road.  My favorite drive.  Ever and ever.



As I said, I only worked in the cool of the morning outside.  Once the sun was overhead and the outside started to heat up, I retreated inside.  I had decided a few months ago that I wanted a little quilt that matched my studio.  I keep a recliner in there, and in the winter (since I rarely turn on the heater) it is pretty chilly in the mornings (for meditation) or evenings (for crafting).  I collected some fabrics and spent a day sewing this together.  I still need to sandwich the batting and back, then I'm just going to stitch in the ditch where the stripes come together and add a binding.

The studio, which my son named "Mom's Happy Room" had received very little attention over the last two years becoming mostly a "stash and dash" spot, so it needed some focused work.  I started with this area, as I want a space to pick back up my elementary yoga practice.

All of my chores took a while, because I was careful to return EVERYthing to its proper living place, and in many cases, the flotsam and jetsam of my life had not yet nested anywhere.  But, I was patient with myself and my collections, and eventually...

Everything had found a home.

My time was split between the outside mornings and the inside organizing for most of the summer.  My next outside target area was the courtyard outside my front door.

This...

  ...and this...


 ...became this.

I'd had this little collection of cymbidium orchids for years.  I'd never potted them up, nor fed them.

 

They got cleaned up, re-potted and fed.  I need to hit them with the food again.  They've bloomed every year, so I hope I haven't messed them up with my TLC.

 


It took me several days, mostly because I had a lot of plants that needed to go into larger pots.  But I'm really pleased with what a restful place this became.  It's very nice to walk from my car, through this courtyard and into the house after work.  This place no longer screams at me.
 

 

Thrilled that this is doing so well this year.  I've had it for several.  Saw them at a restaurant in Downtown Disney one year and tracked one down.  This is the first year I think I'll be able to divide it.  I need more.

 Back in the house, I next tackled the sewing area of the Happy Room.

 

This space tended to stay a bit tidier than the rest of the room because I did do some sewing in here over the last couple of years.

 

The strips in the basket are leftovers from the quilt.  My next sewing project will be covers for the sewing machine and iron.

I'm pretty excited to have been able to work in space for my expanded ironing table.  Got it out of the way and useable (and since it's propped on storage boxes, I added storage, too).

The closet door ribbons were actually for quilt blocks, but I am so happy with my little love display that I think the blocks will stay stacked on a table.

 

On a best day I can sit here and enjoy the ocean breeze, the songs of the birds and the scent of the brugmansia ("Charles Grimaldi" that grows in a big pot outside the window.)  Gets close to my vision of "bliss."

 

After the pond and the courtyard, I returned to the backyard to finish up the view from the Happy Room.  I discovered that Lowe's has an amazing selection of rocks and picked up a few bags to finish up the north side of the pond and the deck right outside the studio.

I admit to being particularly proud of this project.  That looks like a railroad tie, but had actually rotted out some underneath, which made it unstable (not good with my vision and knee issues).  In addition, that little empty space was a little too tempting to the ground squirrel that took up residence back here.  I gathered up a couple of pieces of used brick I had laying around and shoved them under the tie, then filled in as much empty space as I could with larger river stones.  Next I filled in the remaining space with smaller rounded river stones, continuing with them to fill the space up to the pathway.  That tie is now "rock" solid and looks good, too.

 

I NEVER thought I would be dragging bags of rocks to go around my pond (not the original vision at all) but all in all, I'm more than pleased with what I did with this space this summer.
 
 

Lowe's also has some pavers in a gorgeous color and clever design.  With seven different angled sides, the pavers can be arranged in a random design that I think will look fantastic on the unfinished side of the pond.  I can pick them up a few each month (or all at once as they aren't that expensive) and get that done at my leisure.

Next to the pond is a deck (oh, the year after the pond I also rebuilt the seven decks that go around the house, create a small patio deck area and then surround the spa).  I did some tidying there, although I'd stayed on top of it pretty well through the winter.

I am really happy with this water lily experience.  I bought the pot at Costco this spring and didn't drill the holes, so it makes a nice water pot.  Then I ordered a lily from Lily Blooms aquatic nursery.

Only $25, so I wasn't sure exactly what I would get.

And was thrilled when this arrived.



Then, saddened when every single leaf fell off, one sad day after another.  Kind of like Beast's rose.  I was so upset when the last leaf fell off that I avoided the deck for a few days; kept busy elsewhere.

But when I finally returned it was to THIS!  Oh my gosh!



Whoosh!  And it hasn't slowed down yet.  (Pet store feeder fish rescue.  They seem happy there.)



Look!  Babies!



I didn't just work around the house.  Astrologically, I am a Cancer on the cusp with Gemini.  As in, if I'd been born nine-and-a-half hours earlier, I would have been a Gemini.  I joke that this must be the most schizophrenic of signs.  Cancer wants to stay closed in the shell of home, puttering around dividing trash from treasures.  Gemini wants to go party!

So, I've taken my Mom to Disneyland about once a month (with another trip planned this Saturday).  I've also been taking her to her weekly quilt club meetings (she had stopped going; I hope she continues).   I took my SIL to The Last Bookstore downtown (ohmygawd) and then to Newport to our favorite nursery.  A few weeks later I took her up to Carpenteria to Roxanne's Make a Wish quilt shop, Seaside Gardens nursery and then - yum - Cafe Nouveau in Ventura for lunch (although we both opted for breakfast instead of lunch).  Tack on multiple trips to Simi to Red's for meals, my weekly taco at Ola's here in town, and Baja Fresh and a movie a few times with a friend, and my social calendar stayed full enough for me.

 

But, as the summer drew to a close, I realized I would have to double down on the projects if I was going to be able to check off what I considered my minimum accomplishment.  I started with a few concentrated days in the Happy Room.

This was the hardest space, believe it or not, because nothing here had a home yet.




Partway there.


And done!




In the end, the Happy Room clean out ended with this.

I did manage to create a home for them.  Somewhere.  Don't ask me where, because right now, I don't remember.

As my final task outdoors, I moved to the south side yard.  I've been trying to get stuff to grow here for years, but starting with the first dog, the last two and rude guest dogs in between, this space became a canine commode and nothing will grow here.  So, I decided to dig up the plants worth trying to salvage and lay mulch.  It has become another container garden.

My husband liked to grill, and just before my older son and his family came for a month's visit in  2014, I bought a new one because I thought we would eat a lot of grilled food.  He used it to make one meal.  And it sat for two years.  With my younger son's permission (he lives with me) I found it a new home.

And the after.

Working toward the service area, outside the kitchen window it looked like this:

And now looks better and is much safer (from the other direction).  The hose used to stretch down this sidewalk.  With the grill gone, I can store it in that space.

Because I love Disneyland, most of my friends think I'm a supergeek expert on all things Disney.  And that my house must be all Disney Decor.  Not really.  But when they were selling these in the Courtyard of the Angels in New Orleans Square one year, I had to have one.  I've never been able to get any flowers to grow in that pot, but my string-of-pearls plants are doing really well, so I decided to try some in this guy's pot.  It will look adorable if it works out.

I did pick up a new hobby this year, and enjoyed it through the summer, ending with buying this toy.

It all started when a friend in Juneau posted a picture of some dye samples on some pretty planner pages (she owns a yarn shop and dyes her wool).  I asked about the planner, and she responded that her Erin Condren planner was the first that ever worked for her.  Since I'd never found one to work for me, I ordered one to give it a try.  It's the first planner to work for me.

Thing is, the people who love these things don't stop with buying the planner and writing their commitments in them.  They decorate.  Extensively.

Now, I don't have much interest in decorating, but it didn't take long for the archivist in me to realize the potential as a book of memories.

So, the toy.  It's a cutter.  I will be able to have it cut out all the little pictures out of sticker paper, which will reduce my time.   Cutting.  And gluing.

There's a learning curve.

So, I had this great summer and it was the day before school started up again.  I had this amazing idea.

I LOVE bubbles.  So, I had purchased one of the new bubble wands at Disneyland at the beginning of the summer, and I decided to save it just for this day, this day before work begins again.

I would take it to the backyard at twilight, my favorite time of day.

I would appreciate my beautiful brug, with its wonderful fragrance and the promise of many flowers still to be enjoyed this summer.

 I would appreciate the little school of fish (about 20) that has established in the pond.  (Another 80 became part of the circle of life.  Raccoons, I think.)

I would enjoy the company of my faithful doggy companion.

 

And I would fire up the bubble wand to enjoy the quiet evening, the music from the waterfalls and the floating bubbles.

That floated right into my face.  To an obnoxious version of "Under the Sea" belting from the wand.

Oh, no.  These things play [sort of] music.  Loudly.  Horrible stuff.

I couldn't stand it.  What a waste of money on something that should have been so delightful.

 

 

I'm going to buy a bubble machine.  A quiet one.

I'm not sorry, though.  I got to catch the sunset through the sycamores.  (They are already entering fall mode, always the first to show.)

And this!  Not the music I had in mind, but much better than the wand cacophony (or caca-phony).

Do you know what a group of crows is called?

It's a "murder" of crows.

Halloween up next.

It was a good summer, and fun to think back and document it.  This may be (will probably be) my last year of teaching.  I read an astrology article over the weekend that talked about the Mercury retrograde offering signs as I make a decision.  So far, this year's snafu start (I laugh, haha) is only making the decision easier.  Seriously, though, I'm really expecting to have as good a year as last to end my teaching career, and begin my MASTERYEAR in the same month.

Oh, yes, I have plans.

Measure

How do you measure a life?

I boxed up books to donate to the library bookstore today.  Some were from my personal classroom collection, but the rest were my late husband's.

Next week will mark the second anniversary of his death.

It confuses people when I am matter-of-fact about his death.  After all, most people only knew us as a couple, and we were together for forty-two years.  They don't know that I nearly ended the marriage in 1984, and that only our mutual love for our two sons kept me where I was for decades.

He wasn't a bad man.  In fact, he was a good man with his heart in the right place.  But, as my older son once pointed out to me, he wanted to be the center of attention at all times.

Not quite twenty-one when I married the thirty-two-year-old who had been one of my college professors, I grew up.  And I outgrew the role of adoring fan.  So he found others to fill that role for him.  Not physical affairs, but I think most women - and maybe some men - would understand when I say that the emotional damage that comes from being treated not as an equal partner but as an irrelevant footnote in a spouse's life takes its toll.

He did good work, but he did it for others and at the expense of his family.

Enough.  That part's over and not what I intended to write about, anyway.

It was his books that struck me today.

I labeled him a fundamentalist atheist when I married him.  The grandson of one of the first celebrity evangelists (first to transmit a ministry via radio in the 1920s), he had turned away from Christianity before I met him.  Which was no nevermind to me, as I had not been raised in religion.

But he never really let it go, and was searching for some spiritual connection despite his professions.  As I boxed up his Zen collection, I remembered the times when I would come out to get the day started for our boys and find him in sitting in the dark in his time of meditation.  He didn't keep it up, so I assume he didn't get what he was looking for.

I didn't give away all of his books. I kept the old Bible from the times that he did believe and taught Sunday School.  The coffee table edition of The Power of Myth,  the Bill Moyers - Joseph Campbell interviews.  The Time Life Latin American cooking book with his favorite mouth-watering green chili enchilada recipe.  But from this room, anyway, most of the books will likely be picked up by someone new who might find more enlightenment from them.

It has been a long, deep process.  He had kept financial secrets from me that I will be dealing with for a long while.  (I AM dealing with them well, so no worries.)  But in the end, he had very little in the way of possessions.

I am grateful when I run across something that makes me smile.  When I met him he used a gold fountain pen - always a fountain pen - that he refilled from a bottle.  Left-handed, he would never allow anyone else to use it or - he claimed - the nib would be ruined.  When I found it, happy memories came with it.  Memories of the man who introduced me to Ed Ricketts and Big Sur and nudibranchs.  Who shared with boyish glee the hand-blown marbles that came every month until he filled to overflowing the crystal bowl I'd given him to display them.  Who took me to see Willie Nelson sing about a red-headed stranger.  Rex Harrison as Henry Higgins and Dick Van Dyke as Professor Harold Hill.  Anna Netrebko as Juliet.  And Dolly Parton's first ever stage performance, where he brought a giggle from her when he asked her to autograph his shirt.  "Raght on yer beely?"

Old books, worn-out clothes, antiquated computers and an ancient television that had been left behind in the HD revolution.

It has an effect on me every time I deal with something of his.  His legacy cannot be this trash that I have sorted and discarded.  It must be the students that he encouraged, the foster youth he supported and the beautiful, talented, brilliant boys we both raised.

The rest is just stuff.

Came around again.

  

Always glad when this comes around on facebook, but I decided I had to add it to this blog journal of mine.  Impeccable harmonies and a delightful sense of humor.  Such a lovely family.

Episode One

Daily Value Players

My son is deciding whether he wants to further his education and get a masters in nutrition.  To study for exams for his last class, he and some friends did a weekly nutrition podcast.  Being who they are, they decided it would be fun to do a production in the style of the old-time radio mystery shows.

First episode is done. 

It was really fun to have this going on in my kitchen for a few weeks.  Couldn't keep the dog quiet or the mom from coming through the front door at inconvenient times, so they moved the studio to a quieter venue.  I kind of miss it.

No Fear.

 

The kids are all right.

Dear Future Boyfriend,

Rocks.

When you ask me what I want for my birthday and I say, "A rock," I'm not speaking euphemistically. 

A rock.

And if you really want to make me swoon at your generosity, go drop $20 on a bag of polished river pebbles.

Yeah, I'm a cheap date.

(The pond is about done.  Just a couple more bags of the little pebbles ought to do it.  So happy with how this turned out.  It sounds divine, too.)

Flexible

Gotta be around here.

At the end of the last school year, I was contacted by the district and asked to do a presentation at their tech ed camp at the end of summer.  It's in a couple of weeks, but if I want them to do my copies for participants, the originals are due this Friday the 12th.  Today is the day I set aside to do the preliminary outlines and pull together the masters to email to the person who will arrange the duplication.

Unfortunately, I can't get into the district system from home.  No configuration of my log-in works, and the password I'm pretty sure I changed to at the end of the last year does not work (even messing with all the possible capitalization options.)

Oh, well.

I can pick up my keys Monday and will just run my own stuff.  No biggie.

And now I have a day that wasn't supposed to be mine.

Hot cha.

I'm about a half day away from having my studio at it's delightful most elegant and useable best.  So I'll do that next.

For now, though, I thought I'd do a REAL catch-up post as the summer winds to a close.

Most of the summer had flown by before I was able to take Mom to Disneyland on a day where we could stay for the All American College Band performances.  We finally made it.  When we debriefed it a few days later she said it hadn't been a good visit, but I thought it was great.  The weather turned out to be pleasant (the previous week had been a scorcher), the higher admission prices seem to be controlling the crowds some so it was easier to maneuver the wheelchair around and we had some nice entertainment all day.

As always, we started with breakfast at the Carnation Café and a stroll through the Emporium.  My goal was to keep us as cool as possible by moving from one air-conditioned location to another until the AACB's Flag Retreat set.  This was a Tuesday, so we didn't know who would be on the ragtime piano.  Until we have that information, we can't decide on the schedule for the day, so once we'd
had our fill of shopping we headed up to the Coke Corner to see who was playing.  No name was posted on the marquee yet, so I suggested we head to Frontierland to the Golden Horseshoe.  It usually opens about 11:30 with the first set of Laughing Stock at noon, but sometimes we get lucky and get to see some of the traditional Disneyland Band members in new roles in a western tavern combo show before Laughing Stock.

We got there just after 11:00 and the saloon was already open with a happy surprise for us.  Ragtime Michael, our favorite piano player, was doing a set of honky-tonk ragtime in the Golden Horseshoe.  Then, shortly after he finished, the combo we'd hoped to see took the stage.

Back story:  During the 50th anniversary of Disneyland I got the folks to buy annual passports and made sure we all got to enjoy the Happiest Homecoming on Earth together.  The best thing we did was to skip most of the rides and instead move from one musical venue to another.   For a while Dad's favorite was the Side Street Strutters because he was so impressed with tubist John Noreyko.  After a while, the Strutters were dissolved and some of the musicians, including Noreyko, became part of the Jambalaya Jazz group.  Unfortunately, that was a wandering minstrel show whose set times and locations were not posted, and it was too difficult for the three of us - Dad in his 80s and Mom in her wheelchair - to plunk ourselves somewhere to enjoy them.  If we did manage to catch them somewhere, they had a female singer who was consistently flat and who, in our opinions, ruined the show.  So, we stopped trying to even hear them.

We did, however, keep up with the traditional Disneyland Band and Toby the bass trombone player took the "favored musician" spot for my dad.  We always tried to get a seat on the brass section side of the band in concert so we could really hear Toby play.

I had the added delightful experience of being chosen to read the introductions for the Saturday "Let's Go to the Movies" set which featured music from Disney animated movies.  I got to sit in the director's chair right next to Toby, who kept me in giggles throughout the set.  He is, as it turns out, a very funny fellow and it really comes out in this Golden Horseshoe show.








After their set, it was time for Laughing Stock.  Ragtime Michael transmogrifies into Michael T. Pettibone to get everyone clapping and stomping (sort of, maybe) and then the comedy begins.  It was a cute show that I hadn't seen yet.

There's something about his guy.  I dunno, maybe if I added a big nose...

Because we were as interested in the air conditioning as the entertainment, we stayed for a second show which was one I had seen many times, then wandered over to the Pizza Port for a Darth by Chocolate parfait and something to drink.  Afterward we wandered back to the Coke Corner for a little piano.  It turned out that the Tuesday piano player is the same as the usual Saturday piano player, who is not our least favorite but also who does not put much effort into his performance.  I come from a family of human metronomes and so this guy getting off beat - frequently - makes us twitchy and we don't last long.  We did stay, though, for Musical Chairs.  It wasn't Mom's Favorite Hatter (it was her Alice, however) but all the Hatters do a good job so we enjoyed the show.  When they were done, Hatter and Alice came over to where we were sitting for the autograph and photo session and it was lovely to watch them, especially the darling Alice, interact with the folks.  I had read once that  part of the character audition was improv storytelling and these two are awesome at it.

Mom wanted to see the Flag Retreat, but we were still pretty early so we stood by the firehouse for a set with our former DL Band slash Golden Horseshoe combo slash Firehouse Four +1 +1 friends.  Just as they finished, the Soundsational Parade started across Town Square.  It turned out to be kind of a nice, shady place to enjoy the parade, which we haven't seen for months.  I doubt Mom could see much - I could only see the tops of the floats as it was - but we could enjoy the music.

It turned out to be an interesting vantage point to play with the telephoto.







HOLD THE PHONE!!!

When did they add the girls to this float?

I think I would have noticed if they'd had my faeries flying around this tower from the parade launch!



As always, the parade ends with my beloved chimney sweeps.  I couldn't actually see the dancers, but am tickled that I was at least able to catch this kick.



After the parade we snagged our seat for the flag retreat (touching, as always) and then for the All American College Band. 



Mom took advantage of the lull to do some calendaring for the upcoming week.  She may have taken a little nap.  Maybe.

And then they were there!  Some new arrangements this year.  A new "Jungle Book" medley and a different Michael Jackson medley.



The always enthusiastic, always charming Dr. Ron McCurdy.  Mom told me the next week that she was a little offended on my behalf because McCurdy included some of us "Old School" guests - one at a time, starting with me - in his intro of my favorite Earth, Wind and Fire medley.  I told her later that I was actually flattered.  When EWaF was a force on the music scene I was finishing my third year of college, getting married and having kids.  Completely missed them.  Dr. Ron was including me with people a full decade younger.  I'll take it.

We left the Park right after the AACB set, which earned us a limotram ride back to the parking area.



Back home, things have been restful and quiet.  Actually a stellar summer with limited drama and lots of time doing the things I love most.

I managed to pretty much keep my gardens alive through another summer with isolated weeks of extreme heat.  Oh, my, am I appreciating living close to the Pacific!   Right now, and for the last several days, the temperature is perfect for summer puttering.  Some highlights:

Alexandra Stephanotis is STILL blooming all along her length.  This has never happened before.  She usually shows one flush and that's it.

I had a passion vine covering the trellis I built in the Faerie Garden for a few years, then lost it.  I bought a couple more young plants from Annie's Annuals in Richmond and am optimistic that their third year will find them making their way up the slats again next summer.  But for the last three years, it's been bare as they are being kind of pokey (probably because some rodent chewed them down the first year).  Anyway, last year at Roger's Gardens I picked up this one-gallon vine with a bud that was showing blue.  It was labeled only "blue" but I thought it might be one like the slowpoke in the faerie garden so I bought it.  I at least was smart enough to wait until it bloomed before actually giving it a permanent home.  It is NOT the plant I thought it was and, to be honest, I'm not fond of this bloom.  So, I didn't plant it in the faerie garden but put it in a large pot and placed it next to the front plant rack.  In one year it has climbed up the rack and is very pleasing.  I like it here.  And - I'm happy to say - so do the gulf fritillary butterflies, one of whom I saw laying eggs on it yesterday.



Aside from an attack by slugs or snails, the brugmansias I grew from cuttings are doing well in this spot.  Again, it's been a challenge to keep them watered in the heat and they show some damage, but they are still alive and so I am grateful.  I'm planning to clear a planter in my south side yard as a permanent home for these potted trees.  They should be spectacular along the walkway there next year.

One victim of the heat was the original geum "Totally Tangerine" that I had growing here.  Fortunately, I have several in the front yard.  I dug one up to transplant here.  Geum are a plant that needs to be divided anyway.  This is one of the small "daughters" from the "mother" plant. 

"Although she be but little, she is fierce!"

Now, if can just keep her going through the fall heat, I should have flowers next spring.



Added benefit:  I got four more little girls to pop into the ground somewhere.  I do think, though, that at least one needs to be in a large pot in the sunset garden.

Happy to report that milkweed it coming up everywhere.  Perfectly fine with me.   I have no problem with being surrounded by beautiful Monarch butterflies, especially if they are giving away kisses like the one I got in the spring.

This one is growing in my Cara Cara orange pot.  The orange doesn't seem to be suffering, but I will have to remove the milkweed if it seems to be stunting the orange.

There are even plants coming up in the Faerie Garden.  They don't exactly match my color scheme in this bed but, hey.  Butterflies outside my bedroom window.  Not a bad thing.

Brugmansia "Peach."  So crazy about these things.  Gorgeous flowers, delicious fragrance and easy to grow from cuttings.  I think I'm up to close to a dozen varieties.  Want to order some more come fall.

Something new this year.  My little birds don't fly away when I come into the garden.  Such a compliment.  And the hummers...  I have a pair of hummingbirds that use a feeder in this yard.  One morning I was watering and the male came to the feeder, all decked out in bright metallic red waistcoat and top hat for a drink, and then he flew to me and hovered about 18 inches from my face for a full three seconds before flying off.  He was immediately followed by the missus, a little more plainly dressed, who also sipped, then came to about 18 inches from my face for a full three seconds before heading back home.

One on the feeder, one on the house hanger.  See them?

Continuing into my territory in the back yard, I am thrilled with the results of my work this summer.  The pond is a daily pleasure, and my new plants are growing nicely.  This is "Mayla" a water lily with a bright magenta flower.  She has bloomed once already, and continues to put out more and more leaves.  Seems like I'd be stating the obvious, but  I've invested in lilies that have not adjusted so well in the past, so this is fantastic.  I have hopes to see her fill a good part of the pond by next year.  She is a hardy water lily, so should survive our relatively mild winter just fine.

I'm secretly pleased with the result of a mistake I made in choosing this purple plant.  It is ruellia, a native from Mexico.  A contractor I worked with a few years ago saw it and said, "That will take over your yard," and it turns out he's probably right.  Since then I've tried digging it out and even - shhhh - put Round-up on it (before we all learned the truth).  But, it is doing great.  I guess I lucked out and bought a sterile plant.  I've never seen seed pods and have no seedlings anywhere that I've noticed (the plant is over 15 years old).  But it spreads by rhizomes that I try to dig up when it invades the walkways.

About five years ago I planted a salvia "Hot Lips" in the same planter.  The two plants have hit it off and each has spread into the other, producing this fabulous  red, white and "blue" effect.  This space gets very little water, but they seem to be flourishing on the oversplash by the pond.  The good news is that the tortoises eat the ruellia, so a couple of times during the summer I can cut it back for them and it comes back looking fresh and happy.

All of the water plants I added to the pond are doing well this summer.  The water hyacinths have spread from two small plants to several larger.  In the container that catches the flow from their barrel, the water lettuce has also grown from two small heads to almost filling their area.  Now, if I can just get the lotus I want come March, it will be complete.

Last week I spend a couple of hours taking advantage of my sister-in-law's talent and expertise as a painter of rocks (which she sells).  My first attempt is not nearly as spectacular as hers, but I learned some tips and techniques and look forward to adding some treasures to my gardens as she has to her own.

Goosebump time!  Yes, I am that thrilled. 

This is the area I call the Sunset Garden.  It is outside my studio window.  The studio that is painted in three different shades of the colors of the sunset that I can sometimes enjoy from the studio window.  At certain times of the year it's like actually being in the sunset back there.  After a year of that thrill, I decided I wanted a garden filled with plants that bloomed in the oranges and orangey-pinks of the sunset and have been collecting ever since.

Disneyland roses.  Brugmansia "Peach" and "Charles Grimaldi."  Bearded iris "Coral Charmer."  Miniature roses in bright orange.  Abutilon 'Orange Hot Lava,' again from Annie's Annuals.  And, of course, the orange milkweed to attract the orange butterflies.

I visited a couple of different water garden nurseries searching for a peachy colored water lily for this container, but couldn't find what I wanted.  Finally I ordered one called 'Georgia Peach' from Lily Blooms Aquatic Gardens.

I couldn't believe what I received from them in the mail.  A big, healthy lily with a half dozen leaves and a thick clump of healthy roots sealed in a plastic bag.  The instructions said to plant it with food immediately and set it shallowly in the water.  I couldn't get to it immediately, but within the week had planted it and sank it - shallowly - in this container.  One by one, the leaves died.  Finally, I remembered that I had not fed it, so tracked down some aquatic plant food, pulled the pot, stuffed it with food and lowered it a little deeper into the container.  A couple of weeks later the last leaf died off, and I beat myself up for not following the directions better.

Four days later - FOUR DAYS LATER - I went out and counted fourteen -FOURTEEN- tiny leaves floating on the water.  It's been popping leaves ever since.  I'm so thrilled.  A little worried that I might have to choose another container, but for now I'm just going to enjoy the abundance.

My tree milkweed is WAY over my head.  I've seen caterpillars feeding on it as well.

The heat has really affected the blooming of the brugmansias.  This one is in the Sunset Garden and bloomed all summer last year.  These things don't bloom until the stems create a "Y."  This is the first Y of this season.  I'm hoping for blooms but they sure are late.

Charles Grimaldi grew to this size from a 1-gallon plant purchase last fall.  He needs feeding (again) but you can see the nice orange flower in the right.  He's been blooming all summer.  Wonderful fragrance.

I still have quite a lot to do with what little summer I have left.  I need to make up a batch of potting soil and pot up some brugs into larger pots.  Also bought a dwarf pomegranate for the Sunset garden, and want to divide the alstromeria that's has been so luscious this summer.  I still want to tidy the Faerie Garden (never got done last year, either) and the south side yard (which needs mulch, too, before I can make the container garden I want there.)  The entire front yard needs maintenance "in the gloaming" as my SIL says.  I did a lot of work out there last year and the layer of mulch I installed around the roses did the trick to keep the spring grass and weeds out.  But the despised Bermuda needs to be pulled out, as usual, and the roses groomed.  I may go ahead and feed them for another flush before winter.







Inside my focus has been on the studio.  I've been in this room for three years now and have never gotten it to the point where I can just walk in and start working.  It is now only hours away from being able to do that, and I will be heading there after I finish this novella.

My little Maleficent collection has a new member.   Please share (you know who you are.)

Must share.  A few years ago my SIL, a big fan of ETSY, gave me a set of Flower Fairy wooden die cuts for Christmas.  I bought a set of tiny clothespins and glued the fairies to them.  When I put the studio together, I tacked white grosgrain ribbon across the massive middle closet door.  I use the clothespins to hang all kinds of wonderful things from those ribbons.  Inspirational pictures, wooden die cut treasures, quilt blocks and, of course, pictures of loved ones.

For my birthday this year she gave me die cuts of Rose O'Neill kewpies (I've collected O'Neill art and dolls for over forty years).  On one magical day in the summer of cleaning this space I managed to bring together the Kewpies, the clothespins and a long-lost hot glue gun.  SO cute.

I had planned to write this summer.  And enjoy the stack of books that I had stacked for summer reading over the course of the year.  And I had every intention of beginning Julia Cameron's newest program, Never Too Late to Begin Again. 

Nope.

I had a bit of an epiphany this summer.  All my life I've been a reader.  I remember my third grade teacher telling my mother that he had gone to the junior high to pick up something for me to read because I'd moved beyond the rest of the class.  As a kid, as an adolescent and later as an adult I jumped from one novel to another.

The last six years have been all about transformation.  Non-fiction.  Read with highlighters and sticky tabs and pencil scratchings in the margins.

So, I was looking forward to reading fiction this summer.  Drienie Hattingh's Forever Friends.  Kenneth Roberts' Arundel. 

I can't.

I get about three pages into whatever, and the siren calls.  "You could have your hands in the dirt."  "You could be stitching."  "Remember the quilt?"  I've contacted (and spent time with) more friends and family this summer than in the previous handful of summers together.  I take my mom to her quilt club meeting every Thursday.  She's known these women for over forty years.  What a gift they have been to her.  And now to me.

Twenty some years ago I had a dream.  I dreamed I was in my eighties and tucked into bed.  The dream me knew that I would not wake in this world again the next morning.  I was not afraid.  I lie there, thinking back over my life.  I was happy, smiling.

Six years ago - at about this time - a friend wrote in a facebook conversation that he had not taken the time to explore facebook.  Knowing something about his schedule, I wrote back, "You have a great big life."  His answer to me was, "Do you imagine that you don't?"  It brought me up short.  I have never forgotten it.

When I woke up from that dream twenty years ago, I vowed to create a life for myself that would make me smile when I looked back on it.  I kind of slacked on that until my friend reminded me of my "great big life."

I realize now, that for all my years as a reader, novels were an escape from what was a small, isolated, often unhappy life.

Plenty of time later - when I'm not so mobile, not so energetic - for novels.  For now, I will listen to the siren that keeps calling me back into my great big life.

Genetic Memory.

In my 67th year...

I will visit the home of my ancestors.

There should be bagpipes.  

This evening I heard this for the first time:

Through the entire piece a little genetic memory was whispering "pipespipespipes."

Powerful how they used them.