Tilt-a-whirl

Just a couple of things...

Yes, Christmas was all that I had hoped for and more. The MORE is that I am now sick as a dog and can't seem to do more than a couple of hours upright. That is a warning to those of you who heard that I could get your yarn to you in a day or two...Uh, Mr Virus has other plans.

Number two and this is a BIGGEE ... the falling dollar has finally caught up with us and the suppliers. Yup, some prices are going to have to go up in a short while, after Holly gets home from her jaunt around Italy. My heads up to you readers and to my email list (as soon as I can get the newsletter out) is that even though the new shipments of yarn are going to cost me more, I will honor my current prices until Holly gets the changes on the website. Prices will be going up anywhere from a dollar for the sock yarns and spinnables to $4 for some of the luxury stuff like Kid. So, I suggest that you get your orders in, if you have been haunting the site, wondering when to pull the trigger...the time is now.

Ok, I am going to bed now. I took lots of pictures of our first snowfall and can't wait to see what The Family Photographer, Vicki
comes up with when she goes through the myriad photos of our family adventure. Me? I was having too much fun in the moment to remember to do any photography. Auntie Sheila reminded Lauren to take pictures, so hopefully the two daughters will fill in the holes.

Happy New Year...cough snort.

Winter Solstice

Happy Day to those who celebrate. To me, there is always reason to celebrate when I have reached the finish line of the days shortening...it gets dark soon enough around here in The Woods and so the prospect of a couple of more minutes of light each day always cheers me. Of course this means that my dear friends in the Southern Hemisphere have to share some of their daylight bounty now. Hullo, Hawkes Bay and Christchurch!

So, tonight begins the whirlwind visit of The Son and his bride. We are so lucky to have everyone home in The New Home for Christmas. Last year was so sad with all of the chicks elsewhere and Rod's mom with one foot on The Other Side, so this year is going to be extra sweet. Uncle Erik will finally have some quality time with little Schnickle and the house will be filled with raucous laughter.

The beginning of this Winter is mighty cold for us and quite remarkably it was 12 degrees colder here this morning than downtown Placerville. My friend and buyer's real estate agent, Rhonda, stopped by yesterday and exclaimed that are we are a lot colder here than where she lives, which is hundreds of feet higher in elevation. Go figure. We pay the piper to the man with the gas truck and stay nice and cool in the summer. I just think that crunching around on the icy ground is kind of funny but realized how much things have changed when I foolishly put my Poinsettia plants outside. DUH, Lisa...you are not living in Lafayette anymore. This hammered it home when I went outside two days ago and found frozen solid bracts. Live and learn.

So, one thing that happened lately, after we got the dumping of 4 inches of rain in two days...

Schnickle says..."keek going"! Yes, it comes and goes with the rain but that morning it was ROARING. Perhaps a river does not run through it but a creek does!

The rainy week put a damper on the activity across the driveway and so Scott parked the backhoe and went home. Yesterday morning, we were very surprised to see trucks galore, as the crew for the concrete company showed up (have these guys not heard of The Carpool???) They got a lot of work done and of course Tank could not help himself but to bark relentlessly at the guys who had to put their heads inside of their hoodies...yup, a clear day and the announcement that it was a brisk 23 degrees kept these fellows moving and keeping warm doing this. It is taking shape and is of course, very exciting. They ran out of wood by the early afternoon and took off but as you can see, yes Virginia, there will be a studio.

Clown Feet

My daughter thought that I should title a blog something about Planes, Trains and Automobiles but it is really Cars, Busses and Taxi's and what a fun time it was. You see, Lauren is an instigator...always has been. It's always been...MOM, you need to get out more...MOM, let's go get you a new hairdo...MOM, why don't we have a Girl's Weekend in San Francisco. Ummmmm, yeah!

Saturday began with a lively giggle-fest for the Schnickle...his second annual celebration, which began at a place called Bounce-opolis in Folsom. It is a lovely indoor playground and we had the little kid room, which could accommodate kids from one to six, easily, with the type of play settings in the big room. The main thing is that HE had a blast, the kids had a blast and even the parents had fun for the 90 minutes that turned out to be PERFECT for a little kid party. Pizza was delivered and Kid Krack (Hi-C) was served by the teenage Host after the kids ran round and round in the activity room. Plates were whisked away like a proper table turner does and out came the cake and the song and the stiff arm to his little friend who wanted desperately to HELP with the candles. Nooooooooooooooo, it's MY Whew. It was accomplished and gifts were carted home for the quiet opening (so that there did not need to be any more Daycare Stiff Arm) with the two sets of grandparents in attendance. Nice, very nice.

At 2 PM, the Daughter and I piled into her car and began the exodus down to our old stomping grounds and all of the yucky-poo traffic and crowds that accompanied the journey. DAD, the 80 is a parking lot, says she over the cellphone. 3 hours plus to the hotel (The St Francis...thanks again, Lauren) on Union Square. UNION SQUARE was positively teeming with people in a manner that I have never experienced in all of my years of living in the Bay Area. What a spectacle. Perhaps it was THE weekend for all of the Prodigals to come home, to partake in the special activities that San Francisco has to offer. For US, it was the draw to the magic of Cirque du Soleil's KOOZA .

The trick for us was to get into the Hotel, casually hail a cab and get a meal on a Saturday night. No small feat, my friends. You see, the cab line outside of the hotel was THIS BIG and because we heard no tweet at the end of it, where the cabs are supposed to roar up to the doorman...we eschewed the line and started to hoof it. Yeah, sure...let's just start walking because the cabs are probably not wanting to come down that street into the madness. We got down to 5th and Mission and realized that there was not going to be a cab for us. POUT. Hmmm, says the resourceful one, let's grab the 30 Bus because I know that it goes down to the train station. Sure, say I. That would be great because I am certainly up for an adventure. We hop The 30 and the female bus driver looks at us and says...do you know where you are going? :o) Yes, we really DO mean to go past all of the yucky bits and arrive at the train station, which is a couple of blocks from the ballpark. Ok, says she. We are warm and snug and the bus is not dirty or stinky...SCORE! A few blocks later...we look out the window as we are crossing an intersection and BAM!...a pedestrian is down, hit by a car. Yeah, I have moved to a place where we worry about driving at night because of the deer stepping out in front of traffic and this driver collides with a pedestrian that is all in black from head to toe. We were just stunned but the bus driver stopped, called in the emergency and then went on with the journey. As we exited the bus, at our destination, we heard the wail of the siren heading toward the scene.

We started to walk toward the ballpark but it was like the forest and the trees with all of the new high rise buildings and we were worried that we had another long hoof ahead. Lauren asks a jogger how far it is to a particular restaurant and he goes...oh, about a mile...a 15 minute walk. Ugh. Screw it, says she and hails a cab. Paragon? You mean the Paragon that is a couple of blocks away? asks the driver. Uh, yeah. Blush We arrive at Paragon and try to get a seat at the bar...snooty patootie and no luck. Screw it, say I...let's head down to Acme Chophouse and see if THEY have a less snooty bar for us to catch a meal. Back we walk and it is pretty hilarious that we walk almost as far as we rode. No worries, other than a chilled daughter. The Chophouse is warm and inviting and has seats for us at the big bar, where we order a bottle of wine, salads and our main dishes. SIGH We made it and with time to spare to enjoy our dinner and be able to walk over to the beautiful, magical blue and gold tents.

KOOZA is all that I could ask of the Cirque that I loved from the first moment I sat in that big tent, so many years ago. This production is fast paced, hilarious and jaw-dropping, in all of the best ways. It is simple and small and just plain wonderful circus. I know that to some people, Cirque du Soleil means the over-the-top spectacles in Vegas but to ME it means the intimacy of the crowded little tent with the almost too loud music that envelopes you like a velvet cloak. I laughed and cheered myself silly, as did everyone around me. After all, how could you not bond with people who shared the experience of the clowns running down their row of seats (scuzemepardonmescuzemepardonme) in a slapstick chase scene? Thank you for the great evening of laughter and cheering...it helped me remember myself, once again.

The post show cab hunt was a chilly one but once we got off of the embarcadero, a nice warm car swung to a stop for our hail. We arrived back at Union Square startled to see Macy's still open at 11 and The City thinking that it was a Mini New York. Yeah, baby, yeah. Cinderella's day had come to and end and she could settle into that darned $3500 bed and saw logs in an ever so dainty manner. Next thing I knew, it was 7 AM and time to get breakfast before the trek back through the valley to the foothills. San Francisco, it was a GOOD visit. I got to remember who I used to be when I walked your streets...a kid walking to "work" at the Opera House, a teenager walking to summer school at the then tiny Academy of Art and a young adult treading the boards of myriad rock club stages. All of that is done and history but I look forward to bringing my grandson down to the city for a little Cultchah when he is ready.

Ok, Cinderella...get your heavy fleece and apron on...people need yarn.

Backhoe!

I swear, this was the first word out of Schnickle's mouth as he reached consciousness this morning, simply because he went to sleep with the vision of the magical machine out across the driveway, in the dark.

I awoke and after checking the teensy numbers on the outdoor thermometer 26 degrees F (OY!) I made certain that the running water was Still Running. Yup. Both the new little well cap AND the old tank in its NEW position were safely tucked in for the night, which meant...yes, Virginia...there will be showers. :o)

Good thing, too, because that little Schnickle can wear his food after a good meal. He thankfully looks at me and says "Bathtub" and off we go to have a nice warm start to the morning before the adventure in Man Stuff begins. Rod eventually called The Daughter and said...Hey, why don't you call the daycare and tell them that he is not coming because there is a lot of MAN work to be done around here. Fine, says she and Great, says he. It was sealed and done...a freezingasscold day for the Schnickle.

The Day of Dirt began with the beep and rumble of Scott's Backhoe and Mr Schnickle squealing with delight. Up, Grampy, up! At this point, the child was Just Fine in three layers and nothing was thought otherwise.

As the morning progressed, the little dude became a little more quiet and we realized that his Christmas snow mittens needed to be fetched. Oh yes and the jacket as well!

There were many more exciting things to witness and the little man needed to be warm! We had the delivery of the septic tank for the little house and studio and watched that process with wonder and awe.

This, of course, is all new to We of the City Water and so having such exciting things to share with Scnickle was more than magical for his Grampy. The truck backs up to the huge hole (Ellen, get the shovel) and plants its feet before beginning the process of lowering the load. It is amazing to me that this truck did not topple over into the hole, following the concrete septic tank! Ah, the wonder of the whole thing to an almost 2 year old boy and a grown up boy.

Once we DID get those giant mitts on the little guy, we let him have a seat on Grampy's Christmas/anniversary/Easter/rest of his life gift. There is going to be WAY too much fun coming as life unfolds, one day at a time.

The chalk lines are drawn and I can now see just how big my studio part of the project is going to be. Man, oh  Manischevitz...

Whatta day!

What a year it has been, eh?

I was 15 when I was introduced to this nice skinny kid with glasses, on the last day of my sophomore year in high school. He's cute for a guy with glasses, say I to my friend Terrel. Summer passes with me dorking around and when school starts again I am ALMOST 16 and can't date yet. Here comes this boy again...kind of cute, even with glasses. A little more than three years later, I married this boy on this day, 38 years ago.

Of course, the woman that we are now caring for did not want to spend any money to throw us a wedding or anything and so we planned our own little ceremony, driving down to Monterey with Martha and Bob in tow, to be married by a judge and to then have lunch in Carmel. When we drove back to Oakland, Rod's mom had a little wedding cake for us and a glass of champagne before we boarded a turbo-prop jet for Los Angeles and a drive to Anaheim for a honeymoon for kids...Disneyland. You Know Who gave us $200 and said...bye, see ya. We did it ourselves. We have been doing it ourselves ever since then and whenever help was offered by my grandmother or my step-father...You Know Who squelched it. Fine. My step-father won one and we were given help with a little house in Lafayette, 25 years ago. I still mutter...Thank you, Cinderella, under my breath when she needs this or that but she was wrong, wasn't she?

What a year this has been for us...we got two homes ready for market, sold them at the perfect time and moved ourselves up here while Rod continued to work out his final two weeks at Prophane. We have adjusted and thought of murder, adjusted and gotten physically stronger, adjusted and learned to take things one day at a time.

Tonight we will enjoy the heck out of having little Schnickle, the Almost Two Year Old, here for the slumber party and I tell you, I can't wait to see his mouth make an O when he sees Scott doing the Back-hoe Ballet in the morning, when he awakens. No fancy dinner, nothing romantic...just two souls working together after all of these years, adjusting and enjoying each other's company. That is what makes a good LONG marriage...you have to be friends and good companions.

As the worm turns

Sheila  says that we should play the Book Game, which requires one to pick up the closest book, turn to page 123 and quote the 6th, 7th and 8th sentence. Hmmmmmmm...

"When it comes down to it, everything that's alive wants to do two things; survive and reproduce. The Guinea worm wants to, the malaria protozoa wants to, the cholera bacteria wants to- and so of course, do we. The difference-our big advantage-comes down to one thing".  Veddy interestink. This is from the book called Survival of the Sickest by Dr. Sharon Moalem and this is the book that I was reading while waiting for a friend to go through elective surgery. Boggles the mind, doesn't it?

On to other things. I MUST tell you that we have been having some VERY brisk weather, here in our little wooded valley. So brisk that our well pump has frozen two out of the last three days. NOT FUNNY but much like camping, I guess. I was born and raised in Oakland...the CITY and spent my child raising years in the lovely suburb of Lafayette, raising chickens and rabbits and ducks but with CITY water, thankyouverymuch. Now I live in a rural setting with my own creek and timber and a nice toasty house with a well that freezes. It isn't even Winter! Yeah, this morning we were out in our warmest duds with a couple of orange extension cords draped over the frozen ground, running the hairdryer (!) over the pipes that decided to seize up on us in the middle of the night. Normally, we have a freaking fire hydrant of water that comes out of the well but this morning...nada...MAYBE a little drip. It is about 20 minutes to 8, this evening and it is currently 30 degrees F, which is just below freezing. We have now dressed the well in a nice warm blankie and tarp and are awaiting The Well Guy, who will come tomorrow to move the tank and make it easier for us to keep the well-head protected, down in that gully. I guess that it wouldn't bug me so much if I was not caring for YOU KNOW WHO . How can you not feel guilty moving an old lady from city water to the adventure of learning to live with a well in a cold winter climate? I have to keep reminding myself that before we moved her in with us, she could be found shivering in a cold house with the furnace out, not letting anyone know. I called her The Little Match Girl, so what's a little morning without running water. :o)

I must say that one of the lovely things in my life right now is my collection of Tom's Pussycaps  I started tugging one on in the morning before taking the Morning Constitutional down the drive to the road for the paper. It was getting a little chilly and so my caps would keep me chugging up that grade to the house, feeling no pain. So, cut to NOW...I think that it is going to be a rare moment this winter, for me to be without one of these on my head, simply because I can work out in the cold, feeling quite comfortable. I KNOW that they are becoming essential because I ventured back out to the garage to fetch something at work's end, without my hat and I got very very crabby, immediately. Tom, Tom, Tom...here I was this morning, thinking about calling you to tell you that the hats are saving me and you call ME. Mmmmmmmmmmmind Mmmmmmmmeld.

So...what's new? What's new is that there is a sign on the road with our builder's logo on it and under that is a new number...4552. This means that mom's Granny Flat AKA The Guest House, if you are high fallutin, is on the books with the county...the permits are in place and here in this frigid time, ground has been broken. Yessir. This is day two of The Real Deal and a lot has been accomplished already. On Day One, we had a visit from the concrete guy, who sawed through our little walkway AND the driveway to allow our new buddy, Scott to do some damage.

Scott, you see, runs the Back-hoe. Scott runs the back-hoe as an extension of his body and it is really something to watch the almost balletic movement of this enormous piece of machinery bow and buck and nudge and gather. Ground has been broken. Mom, of course, does not want to see ANY of it because there was tree murder going on. Yes, tree murder. Yes, I know. We have hundreds and hundreds of trees and told the builder that we wanted to sacrifice as FEW of them as possible and he immediately starts teasing me about being a tree hugging hippie...well, he did not say that exactly but we come from a home where we could count the trees on our hands, to a place where people knock these things down regularly. Thinning...we are doing a little thinning. You have to sacrifice some to put in the new septic tank and fit the space and so, well, mom...don't look.

Rod has been joining in on the fun and this morning we found him back at his post, cutting the downed trees into manageable logs for the back-hoe to put ever so delicately back behind the shed. You see...we do not burn wood for heat so we will be donating this wood to some friends.

It has been very interesting to see how this logging has been accomplished...scrape around the base of the tree with the bucket and then plant your feet and push. Tomorrow, some gravel is going to begin appearing on the backs of trucks and these great stumps are going to go out in those same trucks. Scott still has a LOT for work to do and little Scnickle is going to come up to stay with us tomorrow night and I suspect that his little jaw will drop when he awakes to the growl of the back-hoe on Thursday morning. Fan-freaking-tastic for a truck and construction fan, don't you think?

As for ME, I am daydreaming about the studio that is going to be housed in the 2 1/2 car garage on the west side of the pad. We are going to insulate the heck out of the place and hopefully make it a nice place to work and a nice place to visit, when a yarn or fiber fix is needed by someone in this neck of the woods or by someone passing by on the way to tasting some yummy El Dorado County wine. Next year, Sonya, there will be a shop.