Life of Wry

Jim and I are usually pretty low key in our celebrations of birthdays and anniversaries. But for some reason, decided to take it up a notch and go across the causeway for dinner. Definitely not the usual… a nice dinner in Davis, yes. Sacramento: can’t remember a time.

So… we went to Biba’s. I hadn’t been there in at least 22 years, likely more.  Jim had never been.

Worked pretty hard on making a wine choice.  Not really. Went with a pinot grigio by the glass. I learned–though didn’t take advantage–that they will serve you a half glass (and charge you accordingly). That is cool.

I am a prosciutto fan, so talked Jim into this appetizer. Not his favorite; he thought it tasted like raw biscuit dough (and it sorta does… try eating some and think raw biscuit dough .. both texture and flavor).

Anyway…. will spare you all the courses.  But we enjoyed it all (me, especially the 10-layer lasagne course, Jim, especially the homemade gelato.)

Biba even dropped by. I’d say that was a bit awkward. Jim said I blushed. Weird of me. (I snuck this picture of her at an adjacent table. They didn’t seem to blush.

Tomorrow’s the real anniversary and we’ll be going back down to our usual notch… brunch at Bernardo’s in the morning and maybe some leftovers for dinner. Ahhh…

That would be me.  A buttinsky. A nosy neighbor.

Not really, but I was fascinated to witness this out my office window: these two neighbors, who shall remain nameless, ACTUALLY TALKING TO EACH OTHER.

One–I won’t say which–calls the other “Fat Ass.” Fat Ass is oblivious to this. But, believe me, I get an earful on a regular basis.

One turned 93 this year. The other is nowhere near that old, but is far more eccentric. One apparently needed cat food so badly, she was willing to forgive and forget. Hell, she even smiled. Not that I was spying on them or anything.

Anyway, couldn’t resist the picture.

* Gladys Kravitz, in case you forgot, was the obnoxious nosy neighbor in Bewitched… always cackling about the bizarre goings on at Samantha & Darrin Stephen’s house.

Two shots on the iPhone today, both pointed skyward.

What is that dark grey messiness that looks like a giant eraser smudge covering a sky that’s been a clear brilliant blue for like 150 days running? (We almost got some weather today! Which, while it didn’t produce any rain, was moody… and good for many hours of reading. Yay.)

Where on earth are all those kids going to throw their shoes when the utility lines go underground along the Third Street corridor?

Annual Back to School Night at Davis High School…. the night when you trace your kid’s schedule, sitting in each of his classes for a ten-minute period instead of the fifty that they endure. It’s brilliant, really; gives you a chance to meet each teacher, sit in desks in the actual classroom, make the real-life commute from class to class. I’m pretty sure we had nothing of the sort in my day.

Hard to be on a high school campus and not drift back to 1970-74. It’s also so odd to realize how crazily seminal those years were for as brief a moment in time they actually were.  Truly just a blip.

Tonight’s pre-BTSN activity was a barbeque dinner–very much an overstatement–put on by the government kids. Nothing remarkable about this, except the rock and roll music they played on the quad, which was all 60s and 70s music, which was like a bridge connecting points forty years apart. The government kids even danced and sang to the music as they served up hot dogs and chicken burgers.  Kinda tripy. I mean, I was already on nostalgia overload without the music…

Principal Will Brown’s speech, delivered to a full gym, was just like every pep rally ever yelled at. Go PVHS!… er, DHS. Whole thing designed to make us all feel great about our school. Same as it ever was.

Walking from class to class, it was amazing how many people Jim and I knew.. parents of Peter’s friends from so many phases of his life. We sat in an honors physics class with Syd and Rich who were in our child birth class.  I saw several moms from my earliest moms’ groups. And of course baseball parents, and parents from DPNS, Chavez and Holmes.  But it was also reminiscent of being in high school, walking around campus knowing people everywhere you looked, wanting to stop and talk, but instead rushing to class, trying to get there before the bell. (That is exactly what we did tonight… zigzagged across campus, entering rooms where nearly every desk was already taken–how did that happen? Tardy.)

Can’t say I miss any of that. But I did get twangs of inspiration as Peter’s American Lit teacher reviewed the books they’d be reading, or when his physics and spanish teachers excitedly (genuinely excitedly) shared plans for the year ahead (the physics teacher’s been doing this for nearly 30 years, the spanish guy is in his early twenties and started less than a year ago).  Peter likes all three of these teachers a lot. Three memorable ones, one okay, and one dud. Very grateful he’s got three out of five, at least.

I am sure there will be much that Peter will remember, even cherish, about this coming year. Weird to ponder that these years and the many experiences to come at DHS will lodge deeply and permanently into his little psyche. Certain they will. Because I found that when I blurred my vision around the edges, I experienced that very sense of time travel.

Have fun with that later, honey.

Pardon me for having absolutely nothing to write about. At the end of what was actually a very pleasant day, in desperation, with my battery power at 2%, I clicked a photo of the sky just as the baseball game in Woodland drew to an ugly close, and then, tempting fate, I snapped one of the cemetery (which is where most of the foul balls end up).

So… photos… with a smidge of filtering action:

… summer.

Another seven days…   enjoy everyone!

I will have to write about the significance of this in a bit. And I can do that, because, decks are clear.

Such the week of ridiculously high temperatures and uncharacteristic humidity.  Makes for some pretty skies.

I’ve said it many times: the 100 degree days in September never distress me, unlike when they occur in April, or June, or August (or anytime inbetween). Those distress me plenty, but in September, the end of the 100 degree days is in sight and I just let them be.. no anxiety, no despair… relief is on the way.

Here are a few sky shots from today and yesterday..

Last night’s sunset over the house:

An early morning stop at Starbucks:

And three variations of the view along Road 31, on our way to get Solly and Matt before heading to Sac State for another game against Pleasant Grove.. about 7:15am.. which works for you? (You can just muse on this and answer to yourself, of course.)

Happy Birthday, Matty.

Both of these were taken about ten years ago.  He hasn’t changed a bit. (Peter, on the other hand….)

It’s Thursday, which can mean only one thing: Throwback Thursday. Which can mean only one thing: dive into the archives and post & comment on an old photo (or five). What a relief.. because I have NO photos in my phone today.

(That’s a white lie: I took some of the half brown leaves on our front yard tulip tree to take in and show Don the nursery man… but a blog post that does not make.)

So, here’s what I got instead: HEAD LICE outbreak at Chavez, January 2008.

Why not. Here goes….

First, off comes the hair. Ow, Dad!

Let me do it:

I hate head lice (but someone thinks I look cool anyway):

Those micro nits are hard to pick out, need to cut a little more… going for the convict look:

But it did grow out and look pretty good a couple months later: