Christmas Tea at BSAC

Today we had tea and an open mike at BSAC (Burbank Senior Artists Colony). I sang, read a poem, read a story and there were four or five others who participated. And an audience of about 15.

Now I am beginning my full time grandmotherly role. I'm spending the night tonight (just went home to put my two to bed) because Alwyn and Dan are leaving at 5am tomorrow. I'll get Ruby to school (I hope!) and then home to walk the dog and have my day until I pick her up after school. We'll bounce back and forth like this for a week, and then Alwyn and Dan will be home and Alwyn and I will fly to the Caribbean for a ten-day cruise. Do you think I have a cruise wardrobe? Hah.

Whew.

It's been a hard few weeks, but I woke up this morning and felt it lifted. That life lasted all day, and now I'm ready to write again. I'm learning how to go with the flow, as they say, and not reject the hard spots or try to blunder through them. Acceptance is the key. It really is. And it starts with accepting what is. Knowing what is is another challenge. I think I have been given the tools for that, but often I forget where I put the toolbox.

Whew, I say.

And for tonight, I'll leave it at that. Now I'll go walk Jenny Lind in the LA rain - it's a taste one acquires  from just living here.

'tis the season - really!

Alwyn, Daniel, Ruby, and I went to get the Christmas tree today - in 90 degree weather! Then this evening, while Alwyn and Dan were at a wedding, Ruby and I decorated it. And Billy undecorated it.

Reading: I finished (I think since I last wrote about reading and books) an Elm Creek quilting book called 
The Giving Quilt, by Jennifer Chiaverini. Cozy, nice talk about quilts and reminds me always of my two sessions of quilt camp while I was living in Murphys and a member of the Independent Hall Quilters. Then I read 
Me Again, by Keith Cronin, a find from bookbub.com.  It's a novel about a man waking up from a six-year coma. Oddly, it's quite near to the only sort-of novel I've attempted, through NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month), where the heroine becomes suddenly blilnd. Cronin's book is witty and poignant and completely enjoyable. Mine, as I recall, had very little humor, much less wittiness, and might put the reader into a coma. I've not had courage to read it again! The Cronin book finished, I chose another recent bookbub acquisition, only to find it a memoir of a woman who has a brain aneurysm. 
Rebooting My Brain, by Maria Ross. I hope there's no presentiment in these two books coming to me in quick succession. Ross's book is also witty and poignant. 

Thanksgiving in Paradise

As I was waiting for the walk light to cross the corner of San Fernando and Verdugo with Jenny Lind after our walk, a man beside me started up a conversation.

"My father, in Armenia, was a very religious man, but he thought differently from others. He said, 'I hear people talk about paradise and hell, but I've never talked to anyone who has come back to tell me what it's like. Here's what I think. They say hell is down there,'" and my new friend pointed to the ground, "'full of heat and unhappiness. So going up from hell, where to you arrive? Right here!'" And he spread his arms to embrace the world around us.

"Look at those plants, look at all the colors, look at the sky - it's paradise," my friend exclaimed. "And yet there are people who don't smile, and who complain. We are an hour and a half from the ocean, and people sit on the beach and complain. And they are already in paradise!"

I thanked him for his Thanksgiving message and we parted ways, he to his 92-year-old mother, me to take a bath and get ready to go to friends for dinner.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

"tis the season

Christmas is coming to Burbank! We found this very tall reindeer sitting by on a bench on the sidewalk as we walked home from a trip to the mall - a half mile walk! I've never ever ever lived this close to a mall.

Great news!! I have a bed! Dan and Alwyn helped me get it from Ikea this morning and then they put it together for me tonight. I like being a city girl and I like being near my wonderful and supportive daughter and son-in-law.

No real linen for the bed yet, and there seems to be a demon-eyed dog in the room, but here it is!

Many quiet days

Here's what I think has happened. I started using this blog as a writing forum, and loved it. Then I moved to Burbank, and used the blog as a record of that change. During the past two months, I have tasted every activity offered here with the exception of exercise and art (although I did use the treadmill once, and last week to an expressive art class - even the teacher thought that was a redundant choice of words). The poetry class (since there's a facilitator) and the writing group (no teacher, just us) have captured me, and I've been pouring my words out there instead of here. Tonight I'll combine the two and give you a story. The way we do it is pick by number from a list of story prompts, and then write for 20 minutes, and include the prompt sentence in our story. Then we read to each other - no criticism, just encouragement. The prompt for today was the sentence: "Every move hinted at a brutal power restrained." Here's the story:

The cat had been left in the apartment, alone, for the holidays. The dog had gone to the kennel, but that cat only knew he was gone. The person had gone on vacation, but the cat only knew she was gone. Another person came in twice a day to replenish food, check the cat box, open or close the balcony door, and give a few cursory pats, but when no purr responded, the pats became fewer and farther between. The first few days, the cat slept.  Nothing was very interesting, so he slept. He didn’t find the food person particularly interesting, so he slept.The food was briefly interesting, but with just a few bites the cat found it dull, so he ate the barest necessary, and slept some more.

Three days of sleeping left him oddly restless, and he prowled the apartment, looking for life. The food person came and the cat prowled. When the balcony door was open, he prowled outside and looked disgustedly at the birds. He prowled the bed at night. He slept fitfully now, slightly aware of missing the warmth of the person.

Three days of prowling tuned his muscles and nerves to a fine pitch. His tail began to switch behind him, and he hunted for unknown prey. His sleeping was filled with dreams of battle and of kill. Dream cats cowered before him, and dream mice, lizards, birds were unable to escape his claws, which were growing longer and sharper.

On the seventh day, wound as tight as a wire on a spool, he was prowling the balcony and spotted a small moving object. He chased it into a corner where he held it down with one paw, and sniffed. He had no word for this thing, but his dreams of hunt and kill became awake to him. On all the seventh day he toyed with the creature, and in his mind it became ferocious and dangerous, and the cat became ferocious and dangerous in return. Every move hinted at a brutal power restrained.

The food person came in the evening of the seventh day, but could not entice the cat inside. Attempts to pick him up were met with rage and tearing claws. The person left food, left the balcony door open and left the apartment with shivers of a cold and unnamed unease.

On the seventh night, the cat paced his prey. It became slower, and slower, and finally the cat pounced and killed and ate. And finally slept.

On the eighth day, he awoke from his sleeping, and found a tremendous power in his heart and body. He looked at the food person with a sneer and a growl, and the person dropped his jaw when he saw a creature nothing like the one he’d left the night before. The cat was large, skinny and rangy. His pacing exuded brutal power, and his feet pounded like storm troopers on the floor. His open mouth issued sounds no cat had made before and the person was struck with terror. With barely a glance at the dry food and water, and without pausing, the person fled through the door.

What I'm Reading

I hope I haven't missed any books that I inhaled and forgot! I read Odd Thomas, Odd Apocalypse, Dean Koontz and report that it was less Odd as a character than it was a sci fi adventure. Seems to me that what I've read of Koontz, the chills are generated by seemingly normal, but not really normal settings and happenings. It's all in the characters, but this one missed that. Except for cameos by Tesla and Hitchcock. 

I started Me Again by Keith Cronin, about a man waking up six years after a stroke. I thought when I bought it (sort of bought it - it was free on bookbub.com) that it was a memoir, but it is a novel. Wonderful so far, but I remembered that I'd taken a book out of the library that I need to read first! My first book from the Burbank Library. It's The Fires Beneath the Sea, by Lydia Millet, and was recommended as a young adult fantasy book - the first in a trilogy - that focuses on the environment. Or maybe even on climate change; I can't quite remember where or what. I thought Ruby might like it, but I want to read it first. I'm going to take her to the library on Thursday to get her library card. Don't leave home without one, even if you have a Kindle and bookbub.com.

A Poem

In our poetry group, we were given the assignment to make an anagram of the letters in the word Veteran. I did my best to make it into a poem, and because the last line is important, I made the word plural. I actually wrote the poem in my head, during my off and on sleep last night. Of course today, I can't remember that version, which I recall being somewhat polished than this one. 

Verses write and paeans sing for those who have served.

Each gave part or whole of life with their service.

Terrible it was, and terrible that it is soon forgotten.

Each of them cannot forget, nor must we, but we must

Rage and wail and rage against war,

As we praise the warriors.

Now please be the time for peace and we will

Study war no more.

Computer issues

I just found this draft that had remained unsent. Maybe I got sidetracked by a dying and gasping computer. All is well now, although the pictures are not yet uploaded.

In order to write this, I had to reboot my computer. I know its hard drive is full sometimes and almost full other times, and we need a trip to the genius bar! I took many pictures of a street art show today, on my regular walk down San Fernando Road. It was truly more art than crafts and even the crafts were art-worthy. Luckily I don't carry money on walks with Jenny Lind! Daniel and I returned there this afternoon, and found a great restaurant that will take dogs on the patio. If one (or two) can be cosmopolitan denizens, then we are. 

Cold November day in LA

Today I broke out the one winter coat that I moved with me from Murphys. I gave away two down jackets! I have not, however, yet turned on the heat. XieXie insists that I leave the balcony door open, but today I told him it was time to close it. 

A treat tonight. At about 3 this afternoon, just as I was thinking about what to do with the rest of my day, I got an email from my friend - a new, good friend - inviting me to dinner and theater. I was a substitute for Sally, who was stuck in Chicago and boy have I been there. Dolly didn't know what it was all about, but how could I say no? We went with a couple, and another car with three women made up our party. We learned that it was a murder mystery dinner at the Mayflower Club. The Mayflower Club is a British-American social club with philanthropic endeavors on the side. (On the side of the bar, perhaps - it was a very English pub at one end of the room.) 

I've been to one murder mystery dinner, and I shall not name where, but it was pretty awful. Some of my friends who read this ramble will probably immediately know what I am talking about. That dinner did not hold a candle to this! No - not true. The food at that dinner was vastly superior. But I digress. This was a play setting, with a well-set stage and lighting. We ate between acts, and were given ample time to talk to the actors at the end, before we cast our vote for the villain. Of course there was no lack of dinner table conversation as we discussed who was where, what the characters were like, who had the best motivation, who we liked and didn't like. I voted for the butler because somebody had to, but he didn't do it. 

Post-election

In poetry group this morning, we were all to say a word that described our current feelings, or state of being. "Relief" was mentioned four times, "elongated" was the most abstract. My word was "peaceful."

It was a great day today. The poetry group put on a coffee for ourselves and for Poets & Writers, the group that writes the grant for our group and its facilitator. We all read some of our poems, discussed, talked, discussed again. I read three poems that I've written since I joined the group four weeks ago. Poetry is a strange world for me, but I find that it opens inward doors, and allowed me to feel where I've been numb, and to distill and express where I feel. 

Then a brief moment in my apartment, and back down to chorus rehearsal. There's something singularly endearing about our chorus of eight (I did suggest that we do some madrigals!), and our director who talks about her memory loss, but there's no memory loss in her fingers! It's a new experience for my voice and, though I thought - again - that my singing life was over, my voice and I are finding it a lot of fun, and yet another opportunity for growth.

Errands for the next two hours. I got my computer back after less than two hours! So I sit on my familiar couch and write. Went to the library to pick up a book which I could have sworn - entirely erroneously - was ready for me. But no. Grocery store for cat food and dog food and broccoli salad and swiffer duster refills, and an impulse purchase of kitty grass.

Home just in enough time to take Jenny Lind for a walk, and run down to BSAC Players for a two-hour rehearsal. Another singular experience. I laughed a lot. 

And so to sleep!

Election Day

And that's all I'm going to say about that. I hope we all voted - it gets more important to me as I grow older. I am woman, hear me roar. Or at least hear me make little clicks in the polling booth.

This is a quick note tonight to say that my computer finally got tired of my ignoring its messages telling me that the hard drive was full, and on Sunday, pouted and went to sleep. The first appointment I could make at the genius bar - and that is not a misnomer!! - was this morning. My new iPhone helped me limp along, but suddenly I remembered that I can use the BSAC computers in our lovely business center. However, away from home, my passwords grew shy and I was unable to access the blogger. It was a full day today, including taking Macbook to the geniuses, and, upon their diagnosis and recommendation, taking it to Melrose Mac. Still can't quite figure out why, but there you are. With all that I was doing, I remembered thumb drives, and password retrievals, and here I am. Three poems printed and saved, blogger password recreated, and a very warm good night to you all.

Change is Comin'

I can feel it - change is coming. 

Part is the election. It's tensely exciting, and no matter what the outcome, it will change our country, I think. 

Part is the weather. It's beginning to be fall here. Although the temperatures are veering into the 90's in the next few days, the nights are cool and the leaves are falling. Falling palm leaves are not exactly what I'm used to, but the willingness is there. I'm not in New England any more! 

I've reached a point in my life here where I have traffic jams in my schedule and it's time to sit back a little and feel my way and direction. I'm on an amazing adventure. Life. 

Energy always flows strongly in the fall. It's the blood thinning with the cooler weather; it's the final surge of energy to be ready for the long quiet time of winter. 

Maybe it's just the excitement of getting an extra hour when the time changes!

Reading: I did finish the second short book of the Richard Castle Derrick Storm trilogy. Can't be a trilogy when each one isn't even a book, but no quibbling allowed. And I am about on the last pages of the third. Don't know what I'll read next. Got a Burbank public library card today. They don't yet have ebooks for Kindle, but promises are being made that they will soon. Glendale library - the next town - does have ebooks for Kindle, so I'll have to get a card there. Forgot the book I wanted to take out and the reference librarian, though kind, was not able to help me with that. And now I've forgotten what email it was that promoted the book. I guess I won't be reading it soon. 

Post-Halloween

Here's the picture I was hoping for of my step-granddaughter on Halloween. She didn't wear my costume, but made herself up - very effectively!

When I wrote last night, I forgot to mention that I had noted a strange phenomenon. My half-mile of San Fernando Road in Burbank was nearly deserted! I had expected to see parties and costumed revelers spilling out of restaurants and bars onto the street, but they were not there. Were they all staying home giving out candy? Were they at parties? A mystery. Tonight the half-mile was back to normal with its everyday - but not holiday! - merriment.

Still waiting to hear from some friends on the east coast.

Halloween

I woke up this morning to Los Angeles fog! Not really dense, but my first taste of it. And the weather turns chilly. But where the BSAC Players rehearse, in the theater, the air conditioning continues to chill the chill. During Zumba, I'm sure it feels good.

The BSAC Players' five short plays - skits, really - are not quite coming together yet. I recall the line from Another Open'n Another Show that says, "Five weeks, we rehearse and rehearse, four weeks, and it couldn't be worse." The title of the evening, as of now, is Varicose Variety. That might give you an idea. We're all more or less reading lines right now, but we actually got on stage tonight, where holding the scripts really holds us back. Not only do I have to learn my official part, that of a prosecutor in "Snobitude," but also Scarlett, in Gone with the Wind (revisited in 12 Aches Plantation, Home for the Incredibly Aged) which I've now read as often as the assigned actor. 

Drove to Glendale to the beautiful public health facility where I got a TB test, required for the mentoring project. Feeling slightly as if there's a cold in the back of my throat, so I stayed in instead of trick-or-treating with Ruby, Alwyn, Daniel. Hoping for pictures.

I did finish the Persecution of Mildred Dunlap and it was pretty good, enough so that I'm glad I didn't quit. Then I read a Richard Castle Derrick Storm short book - actually a third of a story - that's how they got me to pay $6 for the whole thing, by charging $2 for each third! Cheating, I call it. But it worked, and I bought the second third. Confession - I think I read the Brewing Storm before, but remembered only pieces as I came on them again. At this rate, I'll never have to get another book. I'll just read the old ones again and it'll be as if they're new!

The day between

The day between a hurricane and Halloween. A bright, just past full moon lightens our night, and I hope the night of all who are living the aftermath of the storm. And it will still be bright enough for the trick-or-treaters tomorrow. Ruby is wearing my hat and gloves. It'll be a whole new look! 

Alwyn came home yesterday and will be here for nine days before she takes off again. We all - Daniel, Alwyn, Ruby, and I - had dinner together tonight. I confessed to Daniel how badly I am eating and sleeping, and now he wants to feed me. Good, I say! 

The Persecution of Mildred seemed less daunting while I was reading it last night, so I will probably finish it. 

Even in Paradise . . .

Even here, one gets tired and I've spent a couple of days mostly sleeping. Except for the usual walks with Jenny Lind - who today got a compliment for her "fit condition." And for writing group today, where I am learning to be terse, with pleasure. 

Of course Hurricane Sandy is whirling around in my mind, and I am concerned about my sister. Last I talked to her, her power had gone out, and she was ready for a battery lit early bedtime. I hope her phone is working in the morning. She's not exactly on the coast, and is not in probably danger from flooding, but this storm is so huge that results are unpredictable. I worry about her being alone and cold. She's on the Town of Essex's call list, and I trust in them right now. 

We all know people in New York, and the most recent pictures of Manhattan are other-worldly. And how is my friend in Newton Corners? And my friend in South Portland? I hope I hear from them soon. 

I have been reading. Of course. Finished the World War II London Blitz, by Ruby Alice Side. Perhaps I already mentioned that. Very good diary/memoir. Then started reading The Persecution of Mildred, Paulette Mahurin, but was interrupted by a Google loan of The Secret Piano, by Zhu Xiao-Mei. I read it in two sittings, and was almost entranced. Perhaps it was the Chinese emotional stoicism that kept it from being a real gripping tale rather than a good page-turner. The Persecution of Mildred is a very dark story of two lesbians in the early days of settling the west. I think it's going to get darker, and maybe I won't read much more.

Halloween Ball

Light Shard 2

I was in the clubroom today, and glanced under the piano. I spied a light shard, and was able to capture it for you. 

Light Shard

I saw a hard of sun on the floor in the hallway.
My hand reached down towards it,
                            Came back,
                                      Told me,

"We can't pick up a shard of light."

I went back down the hallway
To pick the shard up with my camera.

But it was already gone.

Still unpacking?

I know there's no one out there who would have lived for five weeks out of boxes, but that's what I've been doing. I talked to someone the other day who told us that she'd spent the first month here "doing" her apartment, and didn't meet anyone or join anything until after that. Takes all kinds. My first month has been full of activity and meeting people and what's a "done" apartment anyway? Or at least, what's it to me? 

But now that my schedule is settling into place, except for changes and new opportunities that will arise, my nose is to the grindstone. Two boxes emptied today.

Burbank Senior Artists Colony

Which shall be referenced from here on out as BSAC. 

I love my laundry room. It's right down the hall, has two washers and two dryers, and I've not yet seen a traffic jam. The people I have run into there have been up for conversation, which makes folding clothes so much less of a chore. The room is clean and bright and now so are my clothes. One last load in the dryer now, and then I can go to bed early at 10.

Another housekeeping chore done today. I went to Kaiser Permanente in Glendale for a conference on their Senior Advantage program. The conference was thorough and informative and professional and, like so many things with this move, with this time in my life, the choice is an easy one and as plain as plain can be. I am in favor of Kaiser in principle, since they are the closest thing we have to socialized medicine. In fact, should we ever arrive at that (ahem) fine state, Kaiser will probably be at the front of the parade. Okay. Off my soap box.

Resident Writing Group this afternoon, and you, my readers, will be relieved that I was encouraged to be terser. I wrote a short story in 20 minutes that was well received. Then I read the story I finished from last week and after the initial burst, I managed to put everyone to sleep. Much as criticism is a jagged pill for me to swallow, I am grateful to my new friends for their feedback. I think I'm grateful. Who knows, they might be squashing the new Joyce James. Whose brother put all of us to sleep.

Then a lovely evening walk downtown and home again to laundry. 

I learned tonight - by my keen observation of city signs that had gone unnoticed for five weeks now - that this whole section of Burbank is a non smoking town, at least in public places, like on the street or in outdoor restaurants. 

This is all heavenly.

Now it's really Sunday!

My Sunday in Burbank yesterday should have been titled Saturday in Burbank, because that's when it happened.

Today, early supper at Hill Street Cafe, a hike, a swim, a walk, a quick trip to Trader Joe's for ice cream, and back to the Chandler Boulevard house of Ruby, Daniel, and Alwyn. 

The hike.

Sunday in Burbank

I got up early this morning. That's enough news for me! I haven't been able to get to anything before 1:30pm in weeks, but today, my pleas were answered. 

After I crawled to my feet (still sleeping on a futon on the floor), I dressed quickly to take Jenny Lind for a quick walk. The walk was shortened even further when I discovered that the fog was heavy enough to be called a drizzle, and in less than a block I was cold and damp. We in Southern California are always grateful for this problem. (Did you notice that "We"?) Came home, dried off, went to a 9:30am meeting, and then out to lunch or breakfast with my new friends. The blackboard in the entrance announced pumpkin cobbler and it sounded like breakfast to me! Not so to the cook. It wasn't ready yet, so I settled for a "senior" (meaning small and inexpensive) waffle with one perfectly cooked egg and two perfectly seasoned sausages. 

It was two o'clock, and I'd already had a perfect day, when Daniel called and we decided to go to a movie, he and Ruby and I. The plan was that I would walk down and meet them at the theater. They called after a few minutes, and said that parking was impossible, so they came to me, parked, and we three walked the half mile to a movie. By the time we got there, it was sold out, so we bought tickets for the next show, and in the festive courtyard, chose Chipotle Grill. Ruby was starving. Then to Cold Stone Creamery, next door. Then to the street, where there were two Halloween stores, and I bought my first ever, and I plan it to be my last ever, Halloween costume. (There will be pictures, but not until next week, after the Halloween Ball, where the BSAC Chorus is open the festivities.) 

Now it was time to get back to the theater. We saw a half hour of mostly commercials, including one for the movie we were about to see, then the movie started with the requisite 15 minutes of previews. I love previews. There are a lot of enticing movies coming up soon. The movie we saw was Seven Psychopaths. I give it two thumbs up, with one thumb wriggling with remnants of confusion. Violence, nudity, language, blood and gore, and a very funny script. I'd say very funny story, but I haven't quite figured the story out yet.

All this a half-mile walk from my apartment. Which is more like a hotel. I will sleep tonight with much gratitude.


A cultural note: The ticket for me cost $11.50. The same movie in Sonora would cost $7.50. But they well might not show it in Sonora. And then the gas to drive to Sonora from Murphys and bakc might make up for the lower cost!

An LA Story

Driving in LA is notoriously considered very difficult. There are freeways, impossible in themselves, that cut through towns, so streets are marked north, south, east, and west, depending on their relation to the nearest freeway. I think that's true. There has to be some logical explanation. The voter registration form has a box in the address section that is labeled "direction." I couldn't figure this out for a long time. I looked up the address of a place I was going to, and three places, online, paper, iPhone, used three different letters of the four directions.  Also dyscalculia, from which I'm sure I suffer, made it impossible to separate 1171 from 1711.  Small wonder that I got lost there.

So tonight, after a meeting, I sat in the car and looked up the address for the nearest Vons grocery store. I had my GPS ready, and looked up Vons in my (new) iPhone. On the iPhone, they gave me a map, but no directions, so I entered the address on the GPS, started up the engine and pulled out of my (beautifully parallel parked) parking space. The Australian gentleman said his usual opening sentence, which I haven't understood a word of yet, but he didn't tell me what to do when I got to the corner. The iPhone also was unclear to me as to which of those little pins was me, and where was Vons pin? Gathering my courage, I headed toward the intersection, three car lengths away from my parking place. I still had no idea of whether to turn right or left, and neither device was of any help. "You're on your own from here on," they were laughing at me. 

I inched to the intersection and luckily no one was behind me in a hurry (that's another story about LA cars - they have really mean horns). Checked GPS and iPhone. No help. About ready to turn left and go home, I glanced up, which is actually recommended at intersections. There in front of me, directly across the street from where I was, was Vons. 

These modern electronics really are amazing.

Thursday nights

Thursday nights are for Ruby and me - and I hope Alwyn too, when she gets back on land. One of the things we do is come back to my apartment and get Jenny Lind to take her for a walk, and then play catch in the parking garage.

They tired each other out! Note Jenny Lind's mouth with ball firmly gripped on one side, and tongue hanging out the other!

BSAC

Burbank Senior Artists Colony. Located at the corner of E. Verdugo and San Fernando. The bird of paradise in yesterday's blog was snapped at that corner, looking down San Fernando. Tonight, after BSAC Players, Jenny Lind and I walked the beautiful length of the village street - six blocks one way, or a half a mile. It is festive, with people smiling and shops glittering, and restaurants tempting. I could eat at a different place every night for at least a month, but I've only been to the Wild Carvery, since I can have Jenny Lind on the patio. And their food is very good. A little pricey, I think.

BSAC chorus today. I wish I could tape rehearsals. And then the rehearsal of the Players, which was hysterical as we read through a scene in a brothel where all the women play prostitutes, and our single male actor tonight faked an orgasm. Very well, too. It will bring down the house, I sure. It may bring us all down as well.

Today was a red letter day. I found the dumpster. There is a trash chute at the end of the hall, but I need to throw away some large items, like delivery boxes and an old cat box, which has been replaced by a Salle de Bain du Chat. Is that not elegant?

Last night I finished Elsie, and started World War II London Blitz Diary, another diary cum memoir. Reading other people's lives is fascinating, and I can only hope to emulate. This is another book from bookbub.com

Someday, far in the future, someone will stumble on the cloud, and there they will find a rich mine of blogged writings. 

Halloween

The birds of paradise

 

are putting on their scarecrow costumes.

Diary

I have not written for three days, and in that time have gotten two writing assignments. The first was from poetry class, and that was "write everyday." The second was today in resident's writing group, where I am assigned to finish the story I started in the group. They want to know how it ends. So do I.

Imagine a life where you get to do exactly what you want to do.

Recourse to diary form, then. Might be boring to readers, but is, I hope, informative to me. I am reading now a book titled Elsie - Adventures of an Arizona Schoolteacher 1913 - 1916, by Barbara Anne Waite. The book is based on letters from Elsie to her family, on research and interviews by the author, and by short diary entries. It is impressive how just a few words limn a life. (Please forgive the alliteration - I seem to have a bad case of it.)

Friday October 11, 2012
Writing from Life, with a wonderful teacher. The usual group was there. Then philosophy group, and the video sparked a good discussion on Can We Eliminate Evil? Ruby came to Happy Hour with me; long walk with Jenny Lind, then Scrabble, reading, until bedtime.
Saturday October 13, 2012
I believe I did nothing on Saturday! Except the usual Jenny Lind walks, reading, email.
Sunday October 14, 2012
Dan and Ruby came over and Dan put together my cat box cabinet. I hope XieXie is as pleased with it as I am. What a lovely piece of furniture in my bathroom, rather than a dusty plastic and obvious Litter Box. Tried to go to a meditation meeting at night, but it was in Los Feliz where parking is a challenge. A few turns around the surrounding blocks, and it was way to late to go to the meeting. I drove north on I-5 (known in Southern California as "the 5") to find out what exit I should tell my friends to take when they travel down to visit. Obscurely, it is called Verdugo. I live on Verdugo! I live only two blocks from the freeway, but hear nothing of it.
Monday October 15, 2012
Again I slept late. This is beginning to be worrisome. Resident's writers group in the afternoon, walks with Jenny Lind. What would I do without her?

Books and Reading

Still reading. Although I don't have a bed yet, my futon is a perfectly comfortable reading in bed bed. I trust that my new bed, when it appears, will be as good. 

I finished Frances Fitzgerald's Fire in the Lake. The book was about 82% over, when it suddenly ended. The rest of it was footnotes. I'm afraid I missed a lot not reading the footnotes. I didn't know if they were merely citations, which can be skipped, or expansions on and explanations of the text, and they were the latter. It would be worth going back to read them. There was an afterward, which was very helpful, to bring me up to date about the country. Frances' knowledge of and writing about the country, politics, people, times is deep and broad and it was a privilege to read the book.

Then I read JK Rowling's new book, written, I gather, for grownups - not that the Harry Potter was beneath us. This book, Casual Vacancy, is very odd. There is not one character in it that I wanted to root for. There were a few that showed promise, but that was soon dashed by some dastardly deed or vicious verbal attack. As an exercise in writing or reading a book people exclusively with characters I hate, it was a rousing success. It still gripped me, but I wouldn't recommend it without a warning. I must read the reviews.

Now I am reading a 13th Century mystery in a monastary - or nastiness in a nunnery - Wine of Violence by Priscilla Royal. I can't help but compare it to the Brother Cadfael and the Sister Frevisse series. I liked them both, and think I'll like this too. Who would have guessed that the medieval era would be a rich mine for characters and plots. Well, come to think of it, there is Chaucer. This is a book I got free through bookbub.com. It is tempting to get many more than I can imagine reading, so I do let days go by without adding to my electronic hoard.

Beautiful Downtown Burbank

You'll never guess what lies behind these doors. It's not a saloon, it's not a museum. It's the downtown Burbank Post Office - officially named by Congress in 2003 as the Bob Hope Post Office. It's a building decorated by the WPA (Works Progress Administration for trivia buffs and I had to look it up); the mural below was painted in 1940 by Barse Miller, and is "a reminder of the industry that made this community a boom town," according to the LA Times.

The day today included - in addition to my first trip to my new post office - a 5am trip to LAX with Alwyn, a poetry class, a chorus rehearsal and a drama class. A trip to Ralph's, the grocery store, made my day as I found they carry both the dog food, cat food, and kitty litter that are necessities for Jenny Lind and XieXie. As crowning glory, a new friend invited me to have supper with her after the drama rehearsal. She plays Ima Snoot, defendant, to my role as Prosecutor, in a trial that addresses charges of involuntary snobbitude and big mouthatry.

The box to the left is still there, but the box on top of it isn't! We're making progress. I found the kitty litter, which saves me a quick trip to Target. Those from Calaveras County will know the irony of a quick trip to Target. Today a wonderful group meditation led by Dolly, one of my new friends here at Bsac. Dinner with my family, and tomorrow I pick Alwyn up very early for another trip to the airport. So goodnight!

Catching my breath

My sister, Lucy, told me she knew I'd been busy because I haven't written since Wednesday! She is absolutely right. Also, I found that writing the Story of Jenny Lind was an emotional exercise as well as a writing one. (Spoiler: It's a happy ending. And the story hasn't ended yet.)


Here's what I've done. Spent the afternoon and evening with Ruby on Thursday. First, we came back to my apartment to take Jenny Lind for a walk and as I was showing Ruby around, we stopped at the gym for some exercise. Got Jenny Lind, walked three blocks down to the Wild Carvery for supper. They have a pet friendly patio, and served Jenny Lind her own bowl of water. Then we walked two more blocks down the street (San Fernando Road) to Ben & Jerry's for - of course - ice cream. They even let Jenny Lind come in the shop! I got a new flavor and hits the spot - Chocolate Therapy. 

The big activity for Friday was picking Alwyn up at LAX. Daniel, Ruby and I drove to get her about 10pm, as she flew in from Honololu. She has a five-day break in her cruise; I'll take her to the airport at 6am on Wednesday! Imagine me on the LA freeways. Trust me - I cut my driving teeth in Boston.

Saturday, Alwyn and Ruby picked me up for a trip to the farmers' market. Or at least that's what I thought. Turns out Alwyn had texted me the invitation to go with them to Santa Barbara, not farmers' market! Alwyn was playing a wedding taking place on a farm in beautiful horse country. Ruby and I stopped to see the horses in the next paddock being exercised. It was a beautiful sight.




Then Ruby and I went for a hike in the hills near San Ysidro Ranch. We hiked uphill for about 45 minutes and came to this watering hole. The water, as you can see, is clear as crystal, and perfectly cold to our hot and sweaty faces and feet. There's a larger pool a little farther on, that you can swim in.

Sunday was Brett Banducci's recital for his doctorate in composition and the four of us drove to USC to be there to celebrate Brett, who Alwyn and I have known for 19 years, and to listen to his music. It was very modern, and I know so little about modern music - at least since Stravinsky! - that I was unable to comprehend a lot of it. It was a fascinating concert, thoroughly enjoyable. I've been coming to visit Alwyn for 20 years in southern California, and I've known her friends that long, and watched them as they've developed into fine and active musicians. It felt fitting that Brett's recital occurred just as I moved here. As we walked back to the car, we were escorted across the street by a young man playing a sousaphone! You just had to march. 

Then a trip to Trader Joe's, which in Burbank seems not like a big deal, but I'm still in the habit of buying ten of everything, to last me until the next trip to a city that has a Trader Joe's. The closest to me in Murphys was an hour and a half. Here, TJ's is a mere six blocks away. I need only buy a couple of yogurts and a little chocolate and one bistro salad! 

Home for a walk with Jenny Lind. Tonight we ran into a street acquaintance, a man in a wheelchair, with a small dog who travels in his basket. The other day, the man offered Jenny Lind a bacon treat, which she declined, and declined again when we got home. Tonight he offered it to her again, with the same response. Then he asked if she liked tennis balls. I said that they were her favorite, as well as her cat's favorite. He gave me two tennis balls. When Jenny Lind and I got into the garage in the basement of my apartment building, I let her off leash and threw the ball for her. She hasn't chased a ball in a long time, and it was a welcome playtime for both of us. 

Life is full and rich and stimulating and exciting. I am full of gratitude.

The Story of Jenny Lind 4

The first really bad incident was with one of the aforementioned enemies. I was walking Jenny Lind early one Sunday morning. By this time, I had resigned myself to the fact that she had to be on leash. We walked around our circle, and the neighborhood pack of dogs and people came down the street towards us. These dogs were off leash for the first few moments of their walk; another five minutes and they'd have been tethered. Jenny Lind's best enemy broke away from the pack and flashed towards us. She jumped Jenny Lind who immediately turned around and pinned her assailant. You know they say that the thing to do is to let go of the leash? I recommend it, because I didn't. I tried to pull Jenny Lind off of the by-now screaming and thoroughly bested attacker, but I wasn't strong enough. Jenny Lind is just under (or over, depending on how truthful we are about scales) 50 pounds, probably only three quarters of the weight of the other dog, but she is very strong, and in a frenzy, even stronger. The other dogs, including one of Jenny Lind's friends, joined the fray. As I continued to try to break up the fight, to no avail, Jenny Lind pulled me off my feet, of course into the gravel. Chuck, the dog's owner, was with us by this time, and succeeded in pulling Jenny Lind off. I don't recall any conversation, but there must have been. I was possibly in shock. I'd been bitten three times, twice by Jenny Lind, and perhaps the third one was her too. I recall clearly looking at my hand in Jenny Lind's teeth, and the look of brief confusion and astonishment that passed between us before she went back to the brawl. I walked home, bleeding and crying. I was hurt by my dog, someone I'd relied on, trusted, was friends with. I was more than bitten and scraped, my heart was hurt too. Jenny Lind was still in a fog of battle, and I'm sure had no idea of the havoc she'd caused. I missed the birthday party that I had been on my way to, and spent the day in the ER instead. How I wish I could find that picture of me, all in bandages, but smiling.

That was the first bad incident. I don't recall thinking that I'd have to do something horrible about her yet. I would just keep her under my watch. We didn't go for walks very often after that, and when we did, I was on the alert every moment. I tried to avoid the times that the neighborhood pack was on their regular walks. Of course Jenny Lind knew I was tense, but she had no idea I was tense about her. I observed her from time to time interacting with loose dogs that would run near my quite isolated house. When I wasn't around, she was a normal dog. Maybe a little on guard, but not aggressive. This gave me hope that the problem would be resolved with time and very little dog social life. I was willing to keep her away from other dogs, if that's what it took for us to be safe.

A couple of years later, I was walking her, again around the circle, again on leash, when a woman walked towards us, with her dog on a leash. I'd never seen either of them before and was completely taken off guard when Jenny Lind attacked. Again, I didn't let go of the leash. Perhaps it's mistaken instincts for taking charge in a dangerous event, perhaps it's pride that I didn't want that woman to think I had a vicious dog, which, in fact, I did, but I was trying hard to not face that. Once more, Jenny Lind pulled me off my feet, and this time, in her attempt to get across the street to that dog, with my not letting go of the leash, she dragged me through the gravel. I'd heard of road rash before, but had never experienced it anywhere near this extent. This time, I was angry. I was lying on the ground, and I pulled Jenny Lind down on top of me. The poor woman was concerned for me, but there was nothing she could do, since she had to hold her dog. I asked her to wait for a moment to make sure I could get up, which I was soon able to do. I walked home, and once more spent the rest of the day in the ER. In fact, that time, I spent the night in the hospital, since the heartache that I suffered manifested manifested itself in my physical heart, and they wanted to observe me.

The Story of Jenny Lind 3

Still no luck finding old pictures of her, but I did unearth the computer they might be in. Now I recall moving all the pictures from that computer to the joint hard drive, which, like everything joint except taxes, split asunder. As in "Let no man put asunder." A sad moment, and that's why I've lost all the pictures.

In her first year, Jenny Lind and I went to puppy training class. It was put on by the local community College, Columbia College. Columbia is across the Stanislaus River, in Tuolumne County, and the college is shared by the two counties, Calaveras and Tuolumne. The obedience training was a community class, and I think they are all gone now, because of the budget. It met in Murphys in Calaveras County, and the town I just moved from. The teacher was Karen, who runs Aloha Training and Boarding, also in Murphys. It was a group class, not all puppies, and Jenny Lind was among the younger dogs. She did quite well in her training, even with her distractedness, and her love of Karen, which led her to run to her whenever possible. She passed the course, and received an American Kennel Club Canine Good Citizen certification. This is more than just a piece of paper; some hotels require it if you want to bring your dog to stay. Out of that class, we formed a dog marching team for the Murphys Irish Days Parade in March. The music we marched to was "Who let the dogs out," and for years, Jenny Lind perked her ears up with she heard that song. We did a little dancing with our dogs, just some simple steps adapted to their being on leash, and we were on the front page of the local newsletter!

I signed up for the next session of the class, as much for socialization as training, but at one of the first classes, there was an incident between Jenny Lind and a German Shepherd. The Shepherd was a bit volatile, but Jenny Lind's reaction was a bit over the top. This was the first sign of trouble. The next sign was when she met her brother. She was in the car, and I opened the back hatch to let her out to greet him, and was astounded at the ferocity. I pushed her back in the car, and all was well, but still, it was odd. Very unlike her usual sunny nature.

Jenny Lind had a particular dog friend in the neighborhood, Annie. Annie had a bad reputation for roaming, destruction, other unnamed antisocial behaviour. Since I was used to having my dogs run free, I let Jenny Lind and Annie roam and play, and now I know that that was a mistake. Unfortunate though it is, in this society dogs need to be leashed. It's just a fact. The downside of this is that they aren't able to run their own dog society and socialization programs. They are attached to us by an umbilical cord that makes them an extension of us, of our moods, desires, and fears. Because I wasn't really leash trained, as owners need to be, Jenny Lind never felt the security that she needed. 

We usually walked in the forest, and she had many dog friends there, and they were all off leash. It was a joy to seem them bounding through the underbrush, tumbling together, chasing each other, running together. There were also street dogs, a pack of them with their pack of owners. Two of these dogs were highly strung, and aggressive towards Jenny Lind, who responded in kind.

The Story of Jenny Lind 2

I did look for a picture from her puppyhood, and they weren't in the fairly easy place I'd hoped to find them. The only other possibility now is an old computer, buried in the bottom of a box, buried under more boxes, in my new apartment. Perhaps they will surface, but for now, you will just have to imagine. When I got her, she was maybe five pounds, and very very wriggly. She stayed wriggly for many years. The slightest touch would send her into paroxysms of delight. To confess, I was disappointed that she wasn't as cuddly as her cuteness and size led me to believe. One evening, I was sitting in the backseat of a crowded car, and she had to sit on my lap. It was the first and only time she was cuddleable.

What she lacked in cuddleability, she made up for in playful and joyous energy. I immediately got a crate/kennel for her, and then soon got a large playpen that stood in the center of the house, with the crate inside. It was in the center of the house because that made sense, kept the cats separated from her but close by, and was the only space without carpeting. My method of bathroom training was to take her out often, hourly if I could. At night she slept in the crate with the door closed, and with a blanket covering to make it cosy. I got the idea that for a year, she would not be loose in the house unless I was with her, and she would sleep at night in the crate. After a year, we would see. For that year, she went almost everywhere with me, to work one day a week, in the car, on walks. She never ever chewed on anything that wasn't hers. She had a lot of toys. I'd read that if you get twenty toys, and rotate them ten at a time, it will help a dog be amused and non-destructive. (When I moved to Burbank, I brought her large basket of toys, but I did throw away the small bits of almost unidentifiable pieces of her collection.) After a few months, the playpen was packed away, and she was sleeping in her crate, with her bed, at night. At the end of the year, the crate too was packed away, and she (and the cats) had the run of the house, with never an incident or disaster. My guess is that it wasn't my expert training at all, but Jenny Lind's close connection to what her people did, and her natural emulation of us. She never (oh, well, rarely) begged at table. She sits before she eats. She never takes anything that isn't hers. She's really a wonderful dog, and it is her natural self. What a gift. Not that she doesn't have a fatal flaw. She does, and more about that another time.

A toy story. Her second Christmas was one in a houseful of family. Perhaps not all at the same time, but over the course of a day or two, there were, I count in my memory, sixteen of us. The floor under the tree was piled with presents, almost as if everyone gave everyone else a present. That would be sixteen times fifteen, I think, or 240 wrapped packages! It wasn't quite like that, but I think 240 packages is close. For one reason or another, including playing in the snow a lot, we didn't open presents for a day or two after everyone arrived, so the packages stayed in a pile in the living room. I might have said something the first time she sniffed at the tower of temptation, but that was all. She was much more interested in playing with the children, and going from person to person for attention than she was in those inert packages. On the second of this, I was sitting by the fireside, and I noticed her carefully and delicately searching the gifts. After a long time, she chose one, and carried it in to me. We opened it together, and it was hers! It was a big Jolly Ball, made for horses to play with. It's hard rubber, and cannot be deflated - well, almost cannot.

This was her favorite toy. It could be thrown, she could carry it in her jaws and swing it back and forth. it could be kicked. She worked for over a year on getting her teeth into it and although she couldn't puncture it, she did manage to flatten it. And still it was her favorite toy, and a suggestion, "Go get your ball," would always produce this. At the end of ten years, it was filthy, the handle had been broken in a few places, and it was a ball in name only. With a somewhat sad sigh, I threw it away. The end of a time of our lives.

The Story of Jenny Lind

When I moved to Arnold, I soon knew that I wanted a dog. I loved living in the silence of the forest, but that silence is of course full of noises. The sound of a raccoon, a deer, a chickoree, a Stellar's jay, a bear, maybe, would startle me, and I wanted a hint as to the noise's danger potential. A dog is perfect. They have enough sang froid to ignore the unthreatening, and enough protective sense to warn loudly of danger's approach. That was the theory, anyway, and it's just a good thing that I didn't get one of those dogs that bark at everything. I looked at the Humane Society of Calaveras County but didn't see anything that fit; I drove to Fresno to bring home Arnold - a pony sized dog who was completely untrained, and who I took back to Fresno within a few days. Then I was driving past Gene Miller's Rockyard in Avery, just down the road a mile or so from Arnold, and there was a sign that said, as I recall, "Part Jack Russell puppies, free." I also wanted a dog to give me motivation to get up and go, and I thought a Jack Russell would be perfect. And cute.

All puppies are cute. Good advice would probably be to not choose a puppy on the cuteness factor. But Jenny Lind, born September 18, 2001, at eight weeks old, stole my heart.

Queen Mary and Vollendam

Today I met Alwyn for lunch on the Queen Mary, which, as you may know, is permanently docked in Long Beach (take the 5 to the 170 and you're there) and is a tourist destination. Her ship, the Vollendam, was parked? berthed? docked? right next to the Queen, and here's a picture of Alwyn and the Vollendam.

She's standing in the gazebo in I think the stern of the Queen Mary, and her ship is behind her. She sailed with them down from Vancouver, and took off at sunset today for Hawaii. She'll fly home for a few days and then fly back to Hawaii to join another ship. Ruby and I talked the other evening about the fact that since we're both newcomers, we deserve to go to every tourist spot in LA. There's a Russian submarine docked with the Queen Mary, and I really want to see that, and do a tour of the Queen as well. I don't know if I believe in the La Brea tar pits, but then I didn't really believe in Burbank not long ago. New worlds!

On another note (pun intended - or at least not avoided), I sang tonight for the first time with the BSAC chorus. A group of seven, plus the pianist/conductor. I am sorry that Dan and Ruby were sick and couldn't come to either lunch or to the show tonight. I would really like to hear their comments! We sang only one song - That's Entertainment - and the rest of the show were guest artists - singers and comedians. Think Marigold Hotel, please. It was nice to find dressy clothes, black and white, and spruce up a bit. I've worn nothing but shorts and t-shirts since I've been here. Oh, yes, a dress last weekend for the Pacific Symphony concert. And I'm sure that it was because of my elegant attire that I was asked to come to the BSAC players this Wednesday. Quite a whirl.

Statue

Because this was taken at night, it's eery. But the sculpture, on the bike/walk/run path is quite marvelous. I will take a daytime version. It makes me think of railway children, playing here when the trains ran. The darkness of it brings a sense of the coal powered trains that covered the children and their play with soot. The sculpture is the work of W. Stanley Proctor, and is dated 2005. There are two more sculptures, and pictures will be forthcoming. The bikeway is two-miles long, and I've only been on a short bit of it.

Home late

11:30 and all's well. I spent the evening with my grandaughter - we ate, walked, played a game, talked. Then Daniel came home, and I came home here. They live on a street that used to be a railroad. They took the tracks out and built a bike/run/walk path that's well-lit and well-used all the time. A perfect place for a late-night stroll, it is. We walked quite a bit farther than I thought we had, it was so easy and pleasant to be there. A house for rent caught our eye. It looks like a play house, all painted in colors and fancifully designed. I thought all the houses were original railway housing, but it turns out that this one was designed as a studio in 1967. I don't know when the railroad was taken up. It rents for $2200 a month, two bedrooms, two baths, 893 square feet. The picture does not do justice to the paint job on the house itself - it's quite striped.

GPS v. iPhone v. Me

First iPhone picture! And yes, the picture is sideways. And yes, pictures of dogs taken from above do make their heads look big. And yes, that is a box being used as a coffee table in the upper right. And yes, dogs do look at your sideways when you have a camera in your hand.

I did have a day of electronics challenges. Woke at 5 am, having set three alarms that all when off at the same moment and totally confused me. Picked up Alwyn, and she drove to LAX. I love going to airports! I was all set to drive back the way I came, when the GPS told me to take a road called World Way. Well, that's what the GPS thought it was called, but no. Went through the airport again, and took a guess as to how to get out of it. iPhone is still too new for me to be able to use it reliably, and besides, I should be looking at the road, not at that totally fascinating little blue dot that's me crawling along the blue line that's a road. Back to GPS, whose major advantage is getting me out of whatever confusion I've gotten myself into. I can do no wrong, but I do think I hear it heave a great sigh as it says, "Recalculating." It took me through some less-than-salubrious neighborhoods and then took me through an oil field! I followed its directions faithfully, although I was almost always sure it was wrong. It wasn't, and I got back home quickly - well, 45 minutes, I think - and with no traffic. That's a miracle.

Took a nap to recover. Woke to a phone call from someone in the office who wanted me to call someone about some music. I swear, I did not join the chorus. But I guess around here, asking about the chorus is tantamount to auditioning. So I guess I've joined the chorus. At least through Friday, when there's a 5 o'clock rehearsal (right after Social Hour - remember that free meal?). And through Saturday when there's a performance! There's clearly going to be more to this story.

Took off with iPhone and GPS at quarter to six, to get to a 6 o'clock meeting. GPS doesn't work in the garage, and I somehow managed to turn off the GPSing, and couldn't figure out how to turn it back on! So it was giving me virtual directions. Feels very secure. Meanwhile, the iPhone was giving me directions, if I followed that blue dot carefully, but wasn't telling me the street address - just "Destination on Winona". Sounds like a thriller title.

Finally shook the street number out of one of the devices, and began looking for 3217. Almost got into the Bob Hope Airport; just barely avoided parking in a lot that said "No Audition Parking." Sounds a little unwelcoming to me.

On my way home, I missed a freeway entrance, but why would I take a freeway for a half a mile? I had wondered that on the way there. So city streets it was and very easy, too. More and more I am arriving at places that look vaguely familiar and that always warms my heart.

Have I mentioned that I love being in the city? So exciting, so stimulating!

Hello Apple World!

I planned it, really I did. It was not an impulse purchase. I said that when I moved to LA, gave up my landline, I would get an iPhone. And I did! It sure is cute. But how to get my contacts from Google to the phone? Haven't a clue. 

Today I found just about everything I needed to find soon - decaf coffee and pumpkin. We're all set now. Tomorrow I'm getting up at 5 to drive Alwyn to LAX, as she takes off for her first solo cruise. Dan, of course, stays with Ruby, and I stand by. Life did change in a hurry. It's all good. It's all better than good. It's exciting!

I did take a picture with my phone, but I don't know how to get it from there to here. Maybe tomorrow.

A Time to Sleep

The excitement of the move, and settling in to a new life, hit me yesterday, and I slept almost all day! I thought I would not be able to sleep last night, but surprised even myself. I woke to the 7am (ever hopeful) alarm and went right back to sleep until the phone rang. It was the program director reminding me that I had signed up for a free flu shot - provided by Rite Aid, right downstairs in our clubroom. I threw on clothes, told my hair to lie down, told Jenny Lind to wait for a little bit before going out, walked the half block to the clubroom, got a "little pinch" (why do they say that? Why not call a spade a spade and say a little stab?). Then I went for a walk and home to coffee! All the windows are open to the cool outside air. XieXie loves watching traffic from his cushion under the window. And I find that the noise of traffic and passersby does not annoy me at all. I remain amazed that all three of us seem to be city folks.

Another Sunday in Burbank

The box of kitchenware that I spread out on all the counters is still there, but the big moving activity today was removing a whole stationwagonful from my apartment to Alwyn and Dan's. I'd brought it all on purpose, and had talked to Alwyn about it, of course, so it was no surprise - but it was a surprise to see how much of it there was. I decided today that I was going to give away all the stainless tableware and I am glad I did, but it was a little harder than I expected. In fact, this little piece of letting go was in general a challenge. Maybe it was because it was Alwyn I was going through it with. I felt as if I were saying to her, and to each little object, "I'm not who you think I am." Of course I am really saying that to myself, as I join new communities of new friends and acquaintances. And that has been a theme over the past three years - I am not who I think I am. Or who I thought I was. I really don't know who I think I am and I am probably not at all who I thought I was nor think I am now. 

Passing my kitchen on to my daughter changes me as a mother, as a woman. It's an honor, a relief, a sadness, and a joy. 

Concert

Out this evening to a Pacific Symphony concert - Strauss, Strauss, Brahms. The Brahms was his second piano concerto with Andre Watts. What a treat! Watts is a powerful pianist, and it was beautiful. Alwyn was playing in the concert, Dan, Ruby, and I had great comp seats. And to continue with musical notes (ahem), I'm pasting in here an email Alwyn got today:

"I heard Liebesleid on Sirius this morning, played by Itzhak Pearlman.
Naturally I turned up the volume to compare it to yours. “AH! I get to compare Alwyn’s with one of the masters!” I thought.
Naturally Pearlman played it with ease and total command. It was very beautiful, to say the least. (And – as you would expect.)
But – If you don’t mind me saying so – I still liked yours better!
His transitions from one note to the next were always smooth and predictable.
Many of your transitions were smooth where appropriate but others provided a crisp captivating flare.
Also – His accompaniment was clearly in the distant background. This was a “Pearlman showcase,” not a “Liebesleid masterpiece.”
Your accompaniment showed a humble violinist who is not afraid to share limelight with the accompaniment.
Great job!"

On another note, I have not mentioned reading in a while. Since I started to pack, way back in Murphys, I've been reading - minimally - Fire in the Lake. It's wonderful, and opens all kinds of thoughts about our country in the 60's, and of course most specifically about the Vietnam War. I guess I don't have a lot of reading energy, because I keep not getting very far with it. Tempting to put it aside and read one of the light books I've gotten from bookbub.com, but every night I return.

One more thought for the night. I just read my last blog and it's full of bad typing! Sorry about that. I'll work on a little light proofreading.

Just for today

Query: Why does the maintenance man, Oscar, carry a pair of handcuffs in his maintenance cart? And why didn't I ask him? He fixed my shower for me in no time at all, first thing in the morning after I'd called the evening before. That's service, but where do handcuffs fit in?

At the start of a meeting, all rushed from their places around the table to watch the shuttle being carried overhead, piggybacked on a very large airplane. I just caught a glimpse of it over the shoulders of the other glimpsers, and I must confess that I didn't even know it was happening. I thought - seriously - that someone was jumping off a roof. Cries of pride and surprise sound very much the same as cries of horror and surprise. Yes, they were cries of pride in our country. Surprised me.

Went to join the Philosophy Club. It was four or five of us (how hard is it to count to four or five and remember that number for a few hours?) and all that happened was that we watched a neck-bending TV show with Morgan Freeman talking about before the universe started - before the Big Bank. New theory is that the universe is made us of 'branes (short for membrane) and they exist parallel to each other, and they cycle through a gentle bumping of each other which creates the energy to fill a universe, and that universe expands and flattens out (kind of like a sheet of paper on a pond) at the same time as the 'brane next to it is doing the same thing and then gravity (?) pulls them together for another bump which starts the whole thing over again. The gentle bump is important for the exactly right amount of energy. There were terribly obscure and invented equations on a blackboard providing the mathematical basis for the theory. But none of it answered the question of what came before? Disappointingly, there was no discussion afterward. Maybe I'll just have to start talking. Next week we're going to watch another in the series, this one "Can We Eliminate Evil?" Just watching is not enough for me.

Jenny Lind and I met Homer today. I'd seen Homer and hisp.erson, Ron when I first visited here in July (I think it was - maybe August). Homer is a seeing-eye dog, and a shaggy golden retriever maybe - anyway a big shaggy yellow dog. Just the breed that Jenny Lind has had most trouble with in Arnold (where I lived before Murphys). Both dogs were perfectly behaved, and Ron and I chatted for a few moments before Jenny Lind and I went up the elevator. I've got Jenny Lind to sit in the elevator and hope that by so doing, we won't startle anyone else getting in. While I was talking to Ron and Homer, a man, his wife and daughter, came into the lobby, and the man startled yelling, "Dog, dog!" hysterically. Clearly he has a issue with dogs, but it didn't faze anyone except him. Ron later asked me about it - I guess it's not happened to him before.

Today at 4 was social hour. There were maybe 35 to 40 residents in the clubroom and a meal was provided! I was ushered to a seat by Carol, who I met in the Philosophy Club. I was sitting next to Betty, who is the choir director. Oh, dear, I think I've volunteered. It's a group of six or so. During the supper conversation, I started to think of excuses I could pull out of the hat if it turns out to be awful! Thank goodness for Ruby - an instant excuse for anything I don't want to do!

I think I've landed in the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. 

GrandmaAbigail's gratitude

That would be me!! I am a grandma to three children of Mathew, step-grandma to three children of Cedar, and now I'm step-grandma to Ruby, Alwyn's stepdaughter, and Dan's daughter. I think I'll leave out the steps from now on! Tonight was our first evening together, as Alwyn played for Pacific Symphony and Dan played at his regular Thursday night job at Bistro something. Or Something Bistro. Ruby, whose transition at 13 from Australia is somewhat huger than mine, finished her third day at school, and we went home and had supper and she (and I) did her homework. I had a computer job to do, and that took me til Dan got home. It's late now - way past my bedtime. This is what I have been looking for - family, work, usefulness, meaningfulness. I am very grateful.

Ah, Burbank

Tired today - kind of a jet lag. Thank goodness for necessary dog walks, or my muscles would be atrophying! Today's events: Hung the shower curtain that Alwyn gave me - with hooks - and discovered that I can't make the shower work - the little thing that you pull up to go from tub to shower is stuck. The tub, however, is excellent. Narrow enough to require gymnast skills to get my head under the faucet. Good exercise, right? Have all the required bathroom accoutrements in place. So what is in that big box marked "bathroom"? Still can't find my coffee filters, but bless Kate for giving me five loose ones. So I found Ralphs supermarket. With CVS, my pharmacy, it's cattycornered across the street from Trader Joe's - and a half a mile from my house. (Like Murphys, there's no apostrophe - I checked.) I couldn't believe Ralphs. Even the SaveMart in Angels Camp, which is a huge store next to Sierra Market, would fit in one small corner of Ralphs. Oddly, I found everything very easily. Jenny Lind continues to behave like a lady on her muzzle-less walks. There was a little dog that growled as we passed, and Jenny Lind did react, but not even slightly seriously. I could show you scars from earlier times. Maybe Jenny Lind thought that the dogs in Arnold were wild animals that had to be subdued, but these sidewalk companions are her kind? I am grateful!

And we do have tickets to Pacific Symphony this Saturday! I'll have to miss Midsummer Night's Dream here at BSAC. Such a hard life with hard choices. 

Our American Cousin

After sitting staring at boxes (none of which emptied themselves!) most of the day, after sleeping late in the morning, I took myself down to the theater (I think it's on the first floor, but I'm still a little confused about which is first floor and which is ground floor). On the boards tonight was a reading of the play Our American Cousin, which is best known as the play that Lincoln was attending when he was shot by one of the actors, John Wilkes Booth, at a moment of great laughter in the farce. The reading was by a group called Theater Neo. I loved it! There was a narrator, or commentator, sitting to the side of the stage, and he explained some of the more obscure passages, told us what had been left out of the original production, which was four hours long, and made topical political comments along the way. None of those comments were right-wing or redneck.

The audience was small, I thought, but I was told that it was a good turnout. Some attendees seemed a little bewildered, or asleep, but the rest of us found it very funny! It is still mind-bending to be able to put my keys in my pocket, walk down a wide, picture-lined hallway and find an event like this. 

One more positive note: I've taken Jenny Lind's muzzle off for our walks. She seems calm around the dogs that we pass, and the more that happens, the more calm we both will be. City girls, both of us.