Thursday, March 28, 2013 — The frogs are conversing

Spring is here

I had dinner at the Wharf this evening and when I returned to Bobby and our house, the frogs were carrying on a huge conversation. As usual, they seemed to be talking from one pond to the other. Though I've always heard that we had more tree frogs than any other kind, these loud guys were definitely hanging out  in the pond by the house. Endlessly mesmerizing they are. A magical kind of welcoming home.

Do you ever have "fix it" kind of weeks? That's what this one has turned out to be. My hot water heater began the parade. I was in the middle of a nice shower Monday morning and then I realized the water was getting cooler and cooler until it was barely luke warm. I called Mark and it didn't take him long to find out that the pilot was out. Before I knew it I had  nice hot water. The next day the same thing happened and I called Mark again. It needed a new thermocouple, of course. By afternoon he was installing a whole new kit. Quick hot water again and this time it continued. But before Mark left I thought to tell him about the strange "fragrance" I had recently noticed each time I entered my bathroom. So we went upstairs and began the inspection. The first analysis caused the sink trap and adjacent pipes to be opened up. Not a pretty picture. But also no sign evidence of the strange "fragrance." I took all the pipe parts down to the kitchen and gave them the clorox treatment. Pipes put back in place — still the strange "fragrance." I suggested we look at the board on which the tiles were placed. Seemed OK. Then Mark placed his utility light below the sink and as I looked at the edge of the sink from above, I could see light coming up in several places around the edge of the sink from below. So a new, more aggressive plan was begun. At the very first shove of the sink, it moved off its center and revealed the edge of the tiles on one side. Didn't look good. So Mark disconnected the pipes and carried the sink out to my upstairs porch.  It seemed that the sink had been put in place with nothing to hold it in place or seal it. Took twenty years to discover that. Anyway, I spent a few hours scouring the whole area of its unwanted substances and Mark said we should let it all dry out for a day or two. I came home this afternoon to a completely reinstalled sink (with sealer) and it's beautifully done. Second fix checked off.

Last night when I was working away on the Pacific Textile Arts newsletter using InDesign for my layout, I suddenly began to have trouble saving or using "file." Then the doc disappeared and the menu bar above the screen came and went. Then half of the icons on the screen went away. This didn't produce a very good gut feeling. I quickly tried and succeeded in making a copy of PTA's membership list but when I tried to add another field to include email addresses, the whole thing disappeared.  More serious gut feeling. I did all the usual turning things off and on to no avail. I had just installed a new printer because my wonderful old work horse Brother lazar printer had taken a permanent plunge just before I left for Mexico. Of course all of this is happening just as we really need to get a newsletter in the mail. I'm determined not to panic and have a home visit scheduled with Sage tomorrow afternoon. He is the best on the coast and I'm praying that he'll be able to rescue my files at the least and save my computer if that's what the Gods wish to happen. So, another delay in the NL department.

I've spent most of today going between the Planning Department and the Building Department working out permit details and filing for a new permit to cover the arbor we are building in the PTA courtyard. Lots of little fixits needed. Suddenly our wonderful builder, Greg Tregoning has a one week window of opportunity to race ahead and build the arbor next week. After waiting nearly six months to get one little patch of paving done this winter, it's a complete switch to need to jump through the hoops to satisfy all the requirements in no time. Fortunately I had been told that we would need special plans and engineering calcs for this job and I managed to get that done just before I left for Mexico City. This is all very exciting but there are still more hoops regarding the handicap parking requirements to be dealt with. I'm determined to take it all one hour at a time and come out at the other end with a beautiful arbor that might actually be completed by the end of next week. Truly a feast or a famine.

That's probably enough "fixit" details for one night. Suffice it to say that you're getting off easy. There are more. I'll spare you and get off the subject. April is going to be an interesting time for PTA. Our annual "Feather In The Hat dinner" is scheduled for April -- and Pam Patrie and Trudie ----- are coming to be with us. Then, before we know it, May will be upon us. Taurus party, Mary Zicafoose teaching ikat for tapestry and India teaching natural dyeing. All good, all with details yet to be dealt with.

Yes, I do keep busy, but I go to the Senior Center salad bar each day and steal time to read every morning and evening. Just finished "Proof of Heaven'" I'm reading some other "out of body experience" things now and becoming more and more fascinated with other states of being. But some of the language that is used in Alexander's book and other related titles from his bibio leave me still feeling that I'm slightly out of my comfort zone. Anyone out there have any thoughts about these books and their revelations? I'd love it if you'd email me with your thoughts. I'm taking a break from that and just began another "prepare forVenice" mystery by Dona Leon. They are definitely a tonic and great for getting a taste of the neighborhood before I leave for Italy in June. I'm posting this now without much spell check. Hope you can stand it.

Sunday, March 23, 2013 — Back to this active life

Mike and Art trying to decipher the writing

Art and Mike admiring one of the moret elaborate stones

Art at the tombstone of a friend of mine

This is an ever changing shoreline

View as we exit the park

Bobby on duty

Something worth my while is happening here each day. Every hour I should really say. I love being here and I'm so grateful for the sense of inclusivity I feel. Friday afternoon my friend Art invited me to take a look at two of the newer Land Trust trails along the Headlands near the southern shore of Fort Bragg and the new Caspar trail that joins the road to the old Caspar cemetery. What a tranquil place that is. Graves dating back to the very early 1800's. Another friend, Mike, joined us for the walk and he fired off one question after another to Art about the flora, the birds and many things regarding the cemetery headstones which are in every possible state of preservation. Art grew up in Fort Bragg and knew many of the family names on the stones. A pretty interesting place to visit.

Friday night featured an amazing fish cake dinner at Caspar Community Center followed by a rare evening of music from Cape Breton, located at the tip of Nova Scotia. As some of you know, I'm going to leave on my road trip across Canada in mid-August. Jean Pierre and Yael may caravan with me for the first half of that trip. We'll visit mutual friends along the way and I'm beginning to get quite excited about the journey. After spending Friday evening listening to music from Cape Breton I vowed to add this eastern tip of Canada to my itinerary. What could be more fun than to have that special place be my eastern destination before turning westward across the U.S. toward Oberlin where our Leah calls home these days. I've long enjoyed Celtic music from Cape Breton, but had not, until Friday night, spent a whole evening listening to live music from there, including much Gaelic singing and some lively step dancing. 

This morning at a breakfast, one person after another raved about the previous night's performance to each other and all gave thanks to Tim Bray who helped bring this inspiring group to Caspar. It would be impossible not to enjoy the end of the month Sunday Breakfast at Caspar. I know, here comes more about food again. Try to live with it. To me, food is one of the great art forms we are privileged to enjoy along with good drink. Caspar Community Center has become such a joyful place to eat, listen to great talks or forums and hear a huge eclectic selection of good music. All the work the Tarbels and others in Caspar put in to make this such a hospitable venue for special events, has paid off a thousand times over. It is truly a community hub. 

After a delicious breakfast of panco covered soft boiled eggs on a lovely bed of greens, I drove back to Fort Bragg to meet with Greg Tregoning to discuss what we (Pacific Textile Arts) can and cannot do with our limited funds which include the grant money we will be awarded by the Community Foundation in April. We will have to shelve the plans to pour a concrete slab to go under the arbor but we hope to begin construction on the arbor within several months. That will definitely give shelter to students and also serve as a kind of green house roofing over our Pacific Textile Arts courtyard and soon to be dye garden. Very exciting to begin working on the final plans for constructing this vital addition to our educational site.

I followed the meeting with Greg by going home, picking up a left over salad from Saturday night's dinner at D'Arelios and putting Bobby in the Realta RV. I hadn't driven it for at least eleven weeks and it came alive with the first turn of the key. I made several trips back into the house for the usual forgotten items and then we took off with the engine purring. I'm growing very fond of that little home on wheels.

We drove into town and up the road to the Mackerricher State Park and pulled in facing the water. Bobby could hardly wait to gallup along to the end of the boardwalk. It was super to be out there on such a beautiful day — so much warmer and windless than the previous day. When we returned to the Realta I left water for Bobby in a little pot and took my salad up a little knoll to a picnic table that looks out over the lower parking lot and the shoreline. Several friends stopped and visited while I sat and ate while reading my Kindle. The perfect day — delicious breakfast, a pleasant ride in my cheery, comfortable rig, a satisfying bit of exercise, a blissed out little dog— a happy and grateful lady.

Thursday, March 21, 2013 — I'm settling in

The tree I came home to

I always think I can just do it overnight. But that's never the way it goes. First of all, there's a little jet lag. But not enough to matter, you'd think. Then it's the three shopping bags full of mail plus the three packages on the side. I was at least so pleased that, even though they said they wouldn't keep my mail at the post office over six weeks, they did. Then I drove home with it and began my sorting chore. It turns out to be so shocking how much of that weight is wasteful paper. I ended up carrying out three huge piles to the recycling box. Then, there is the actual getting down to prioritizing and writing out the bills from the stack that didn't end up on the floor. I've conquered that pile now and feel like I've really done something! Actually, I didn't do such a bad job of it this year. I have a few more things
automatically withdrawn and made double payments to several of my cards and utilities. So, each year I vow I'll do a bit more of this preemptive paying and it seems to be making things a bit easier when I get home. Fewer complaints this year than last.

But I'm still feeling like I'm not completely here yet.  I know I am, and I go through all the motions as if it is all back to normal. As they say, "poco, poco." Went to a Pacific Textile Arts board meeting this afternoon and the only thing I forgot to take — the nice scarves and beach  rock jewelry I had carefully set out as gifts for this group of people I love so much and who did great things for our little non-profit while I was gone. They kept me informed as the news came in while I was in Oaxaca that our grant proposal to the Community Foundation had made the first cut and they ushered the site inspection team from the Foundation through our property and helped fill in the answers to all the questions. I received the news that we had been awarded the grant several days before I left Oaxaca for Puerto Vallarta for my meeting with Kathy — some mother/daughter fun and relaxation. I had actually studied Spanish pretty diligently at the Institute for a month, so it was like getting a prize at the end of the stay. Now PTA will have to make some tough decisions about how we're going to be able to accomplish our goals while lacking the full amount it will take to complete the task in the best way. — It's called — back to reality. And I'll love being part of the team working to solve the next problems and make the necessary decisions. I guess, as every hour goes by I come a little closer to feeling like I'm home and happy to be here.

I finished the Barbara Kingsolver I spoke of the other day but can't comment for fear of telling you too much about the ending. She does it for me every time. Bravo, Barbara.

I'm now  reading a book about which I may come back to you for consultation. I need to get a little further before making any rash statements, but I'm finding myself way out of my comfort zone at the moment. Tomorrow I'm being led on several hikes along the Land Trust holdings on the coast. Definitely looking forward to seeing them for the first time and getting some good exercise in the deal.  After that, I'm planning on  dinner at the Caspar Community Center and then, also at the center, a night of Celtic music from Cape Breton. This is the gorgeous place I'm happy to call home. I'm feeling better about being back with every hour that passes.

Sunday, March 17, 2013 — A curse on passwords!

Breakfast on the beach at Lagunitas — So relaxing

Our darling friend Nareida wearing the
origami crane earrings that Elena made for us to
take down to three of our favorite staff at Lagunitas

The little guy Kathy kept seeing just below our room

One of my favorite spots at Lagunitas

The view from our porch

Kathy spoiled me with late afternoon margaritas
and guacamole in the round house

I am always so drawn
to the bone structure of these Brama type cattle

Thank goodness Kathy's camera was still functioning

Last few memories from our great stay in Yelapa

I know, I have only myself to blame, but I'd have at least posted a few welcome home to myself words if I just could have gained entry into my own blog. But no — because Kathy used my computer in Yelapa several times and had to log into her account, my computer was sending confusing messages to good old Google. So when I went back on to do a last posting from Yelapa, it required me to furnish my user name and password, which of course I couldn't remember for anything, and it wouldn't let me in. I spent almost two hours this afternoon trying to sign in to no avail. I finally worked my way into almost certainty with the user name but the password remained a mystery because I haven't been required to use it for over a year. In desperation, I finally called Steve, who helped me to set up my first blog when Skip entered the hospital. As you must be surmising, we finally figured it all out by the process of elimination. Most such dilemmas have a flip side. It provided a lesson I think I won't forget. I'm going to create a hard copy file with these elusive little numbers and letters in case the situation repeats itself in the future. I'd say anyone out there would save himself more than a little grief by doing the same thing.

I'm beginning to retrace some memories of the last days in Yelapa. The highlight, of course was the walk up the river path with the Larochettes after their wonderful surprise arrival on the beach. The last two days before we left were spent in the village and on the beach  being entertained by vendors and fellow visitors to this peaceful but happening place. Great people watching abounds. A mother with her two sons from Canada will not soon be forgotten. The older son might have been thirteen  or fourteen years old. He had beautiful coffee colored skin and lovely black hair. The mother is a slim blond with the body of a teenager. The younger son was a two year old with skills well beyond his age. Believe me, it was hard to take our eyes off him except when we were all at the stone lined pool where he spent time tottering and climbing like a rock climber from the top steps down to the water's edge. I've never been much of a fan of harnesses for little ones, but I could enthusiastically recommend one for this little guy. The mother was reading a comic book to the older boy who was occasionally watching out for the baby. I soon lost track of all the near misses. Each uneven step down to the water was about 26 inches high and their depth when not interrupted by a protruding boulder was about 18 inches. The possibililties for a stumbling toddler to make one misstep were endless. I had to turn my head away from him when the tension level was unbearable. This kid not only did his own thing fairly uninterrupted but ran from chasing Mom or brother with fiendish glee. I'd have a harness on that one in a minute. While we were waiting for the water taxi he led both mother and brother on more than one chase and ended up at the edge of the dock pointing to the agitated water fifteen feet below and shouting "pool" and looking like he was about to dive in, I could hardly keep myself from walking over and curbing his enthusiasm just a tiny bit. Yes, there might actually be a legitimate use for baby harnesses after all.

Kathy woke up the last morning in Yelapa with an excruciating nerve/muscle spasm out of the blue when she turned and rose up to get out of bed. We had been packing and lifting our suitcases quite a bit the night before and I think we were both a bit on edge about how the weather would be for getting onto the boat from the somewhat deteriorating dock at the end of the northern malecon on the bayshore in front of the Lagunitas Hotel. Poor Kath. She really was miserable and frustrated as well. She's so strong and used to taking charge and helping with lifting and carrying at times like this. I ran hot water and tried hot compresses. May have helped a bit. She took two Ibuprophins (sp) and toughed it out with a tense sense of fear that the horrible, unpredictable spasms would occur again any minute. I went to the office and secured some help in getting our bags to the dock over the sand and rocky path. The boarding was much easier than expected because the seas were happily calmed down from the previous days. A dear man we had bought some earrings from on the beach had asked us when we planned to leave and he came across the bay in the taxi boat and helped us and everyone else get their luggage aboard and somehow Kath and I loaded up without mishaps. Some lovely people we met the evening before on the beach were also leaving to return to Puerto Vallarta where they spend half of their year before returning to Chicago where they spend the other half. They helped us get our luggage to the welcoming restaurant at the Vallarta end of the trip. A perceptive waiter sat us down and immediately asked Kathy if she was alright. Didn't take her long to respond and was almost immediately receiving a neck massage from the son of this man who happens to be a waiter/masseuse. Somehow we made it through the airport irritations of strict adherence to the edicts from the U.S. officials. I foolishly had my tapestry tool kit in my check in bag and had to contribute my favorite little plyers and a blunt, double eyed needle to the inspectors' trash can. I could bitch about that all night but I won't. Kathy bought some expensive little pills to counter inflammation. When translated they read something like"block acid." She made it through the flight and the long walk through the Immigration line and we were soon met by Steve and whisked across the bridge where we were met by Sylvia and Russ Bartley who were staying at Marina Bay that night. Always good to be back on terra firma and in a warm and familiar place. They and Steve joined us for a late dinner at Salute which is never a disappointment.

Kathy's good friend Patti and her adorable daughter, Indie, drove down to Fort Bragg to retrieve Kathy and take her back to Trinidad. After some serious shopping in greater downtown Fort Bragg, we had a good Thai dinner at Viraporn's last night and breakfast at Headland's Coffee Shop this morning before they parted. I'm home alone and it's nice to be back. I made myself a nice stir fry for dinner and was reminded that I haven't cooked a meal in two months. It felt really good. Busy week ahead but I'll try to finish the Barbara Kingsolver before I go to sleep. I'm still not quite sure how she's going to end it.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013 — Patterns

Our woven environment

Paraglider landing yesterday morning

On their way to pick up cement

Our round house as I'm writing this post

Enjoying Yael's papaya treat at resting point

Our chosen destination

He's alive — A typical encounter on the river trail

A marguerita with Kathy at Angelina's Garden

This evening's fish tacos with mango salsa at Angelina's Garden

My comfortable bed in the round house

Changing view as I'm writing

Yael and Jean Pierre, hoped for guests

It's lovely to wake up to the patterns of the surf and its almost predictable rhythm mixed with the experience of being in a round house with woven walls. There is pattern everywhere once you begin looking and listening. It's late in the day now and I'm looking out our closable window at the bay and playa with at least 12 small boats all facing north because of some subtle combination of underwater pull and gentle above water breeze. The lights in the village are beginning to make their automatic appearances before the sky has lost its glow. Pelicans are doing their final rounds and bird chatter is dominating the sound track.

Yesterday Kath and I had planned to walk to the waterfall on the Tuito River but had not even budged from our reading material to eat breakfast yet. I was reading with the aid of my Kindle, still comfortable in my bed with the mosquito netting above my head and Kath had progressed to a beach lounge chair within calling distance. We were both involved with the same book, the very compelling latest Barbara Kingsolver, Flight Behavior. All of a sudden I was sure I heard the soft and familiar voices of Yael and Jean Pierre greeting Kathy outside. Good thing we didn't get that early start up the river or we'd have missed them. They had just arrived on somewhat difficult seas and were still getting used to being on terra firma when I hurried outside to greet them. I was exstatic. For the last two days I had hoped they would suddenly appear in just that fashion. But you know those kinds of wishes. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don't. We enjoyed a beginning visit, catching up on all the latest events and enjoying the space inside the round house. Before we knew it, we realized we were all hungry and decided to do the walk after a brunch on the beach. We begged the waitress to convince the kitchen to serve us fish tacos and salads just a few minutes before the usual beginning of lunch and somehow she made it happen. While sitting there waiting for our meal we had a royal feast of beach vendors, mostly with sarongs (made in Indonesia, of course) which have a thousand uses besides being endlessly beautiful. There was at least one piece there for each of us, so we were all happy campers when the food arrived.

When there was nothing left to eat we returned to our room and prepared for the walk up the river. I didn't realize that JP and Yael hadn't been up the river since so many improvements had been made including the foot bridge just under a mile upstream. It was such fun to share that walk with them and enjoy so many lovely sights together as we headed for the famed but sometimes elusive falls. It's a good long way and I was happy to reach our final vista point. Yael had brought gorgeous, cut up papaya along with small forks and we slowly devoured this beautiful treat before we started back down the trail.

I made the big mistake of suggesting that we stop for some ice tea at Christina's little riverside getaway before continuing on. I was so dry from the walk and it sounded good. Not! That's the last time I'll stop there. She was rude, slightly loco and totally unwelcoming. I'm the only one who accepted her offer to add sugar to my tea and the others didn't even finish their sour hybiscus drink before climbing back up from the water to the house to make a quick getaway. The Larochette's were eager to make the 5:30 boat from Yelapa so they bid a quick goodbye at Christina's door and off they went. Sorry for the slightly distasteful ending, but the unexpected arrival and walk up the river with good conversation more than made of for those few slightly sour moments at the end. Sometimes life is that kind of blend and you just have to take it in your stride.

Friday, March 9, 2013 — Vallarta was fun

Along the malecon
— We thought they were a sand sculpture
until one of them moved to clarify the situation

Entering the bay at Yelapa

Enjoying the ride to Yelapa on smooth seas

The pool at Playa Los Arcos —We loved to swim in it at night

A busy building
right across the street from the Aztec dancer

An Aztec dancer entertaining the night crowd
just outside our hotel

One of the rewards we returned to our room for — A cheerful
gift of towel folding from our ever hopeful room attendant

The iguana in the tree
 just off our balcony railing at the Riverside Cafe in PV

One of many little guys just outside Riverside Cafe 

Our exotic Marguarita at Maximillian's — The title was
 something like Alta Ice or another referral to icebergs or the like.
 Looked like a cross between Mike's gin bottles and swimming pool blue

Kathy and I had a great time in Puerto Vallarta even though it was only four nights. We're actually in Yelapa now— the land of total relaxation, but I'm going to back up a bit and describe our short time in Vallarta before I catch up to the here and now. The real reason being that, as usual, there was too much construction going on along our hotel's street so the wifi was fading in and out the whole time we were there and I finally just gave up on writing much or posting anything. Now, I'm writing from our round, hand woven room on the edge of the beach at Yelapa. There is a young man practicing his paragliding moves right on the beach in front of us. We're watching many of them taking off from the cliffs to the left of the village and then eventually landing down at the other end of the beach beyond the river outlet. More about them tomorrow. Now back to our Vallarta adventures.

To begin with, for the first time ever, I managed to miss my connection from Oaxaca to Vallarta in the Mexico City Airport. I'm not a big fan of that airport anyway, but I'll certainly play it more conservatively next time I'm there. Suffice it to say that I caught another plane two hours later and arrived at Puerto Vallarta with no Kathy in sight. I looked in all directions and decided to take a chance on her having gone on to our hotel at Los Arcos. Yes, she had and all was well. We had a joyous reunion. Mother was not kidnapped. Mother was still in one piece. Mother was just happy to be at Playa Los Arcos and looking down at my favorite pool from our balcony room. So much for that. We had a great dinner watching the floor show from the bar lounge and then retired to an hour or two of reading before we drifted off.

I had finished Laurie Lewis's book, "Little Comrads" while doing my penance time waiting at the "right" gate at Mexico City, and I passed it on immediately to Kathy who was still reading when I drifted off. A very good read, I must say, Laurie. For several days after finishing it I pondered many a description of her young adult life in New York City. I was captivated by reading her description of being caught in a historically significant snow storm with several other couples, looking for food stores still open and walking down the middle of streets where there was no sound of cars or other mechanical devices. It reminded me of a picture Tim sent me from New York where he and Jorin enjoyed  frolicking from museum to museum in the absolute quiet of snowy New York streets.

Our time in Puerto Vallarta whizzed by. It included a bit of shopping for gifts to take home, walking the malecon, eating at our favorite watering holes.These included Maximillian's and Archie's Wok. As far as we're concerned, nothing can outdo those two spots. We found me a fun black and white polkadot  blouse I may wear to the Taurus party and then take it on the Italy trip in June. It seems absolutely retro to me but such fun I couldn't resist it. (For all who have not heard, Taurus will take place May 19 this year). Finding an ATM that dispensed pesos turned out to be our final challenge because, as I said, there was construction activity on our street that involved the replacement of our favorite three stall bank ATM. Finally found one three blocks away with the help of two very sweet and earnest guys who definitely knew the complete and up to date banking score. The next day we walked the beach and the streets some more and finally retired to our room to figure out how on earth we might fit all we had in the cases and bags at our disposal. Of course, we worked miracles, went for a final night swim and retired. Our only regret during this short stay was not seeing Jean Pierre and Yael while there. We still hope they might join us for a while in Yelapa. The last breakfast at Los Arcos was filled with great people watching in addition to good fruit and yogurt. We checked out, walked the malecon to our Yelapa boat at the newly built pier and before we knew it we were on our way to Yelapa. There were several neophytes on the boat so our driver took us for a lovely tour between the arches with a hearty tide moving through one as we drove between outcrops to add a touch of excitement. The trip was on very smooth seas and was certainly one of the fastest rides to Yelapa I've ever made. The unloading, at low tide was not at all fun or to my liking, but I have obviously, with help, survived to tell about it.  All's more than well here in this gorgeous place — one of the most relaxing spots on earth. Much love to all,  Jackie