Life of Wry

February 19. A Christmas card–sent around the second week of December–comes back. If YOU are the one who did not receive our annual photo montage and minimalist greeting, I’m sure this is yours!

It’s a little worse for wear.

I thought you might like to see this picture. It’s not mine, though I wish I’d seen the Grapevine when it was covered in this much snow:

It’s a truly stunning picture of a part of I-5 that just never looks like that.

Jim, Peter and I did drive through the Grapevine over the holidays and did get a wee bit of snow:

Which was, while less spectacular, stunning in its own right.

I share because I know Southern California got some weather the past couple of days and that is welcome news.

~~

In other stormy news: I quit my job today. Yes I did.

There are a few reasons, but the primary one is time. Entering what will be a very busy half year ahead with baseball; Peter’s final year of high school; Grad Night planning; graduation activities; college-related visits/orientations/moves;  mom visits; summer trips; editing; writing; projects; body repair & maintenance; friends; life.

Who’s got the time to work?

That’s mainly why.

I actually committed to staying on another couple of months to assist on a big upcoming project, but still: I gave my notice, and that is noteworthy.

Ask me how ecstatic I am to be back in the gardening routine.

Very.

As I write this, it’s raining so hard I’m fearing for our solar panels, but earlier today…

That is a stalk of flowering quince. They’ve been out at least two weeks–I wanna say three–and are their usual lovely.

And this, below, is the start of what I hope will be a good crop of sweet peaches. This particular peach tree did not cooperate last year, but things are definitely looking promising this year.

Jim told a story tonight. It’s a dad moment worth blog-memorializing:

As the father of an almost-18-year-old, there aren’t many occasions anymore in which my dad-ness is not only requested but explicitly appreciated. Late last night – “late” in this case being 1:00 a.m.ish, as I’d already been asleep for a couple of hours — the near-adult was getting ready to go to bed when he got one of those mysterious chest pains, the kind that prevents you from inhaling deeply without sharp discomfort. I’ve always figured them to be some kind of muscle spasm, and find that they generally resolve on their own after 15 minutes or so. However, the victim this time had never had one before, at least not one that lasted so long, and it scared him. This kind of fear manifests as irritability and an expectation that someone must do something about the problem, so the parental units were alerted. After much questioning about symptoms I wasn’t alarmed, but agreed to call an advice nurse. She ran through pretty much the same symptom rubric and also concluded that there was no emergency. Still not reassured, the teenager agreed to try to get to sleep as long as I hung out in the room. So I grabbed a blanket and made myself comfortable-ish on the reclining desk chair, and sure enough after half an hour or so the pain and anxiety succumbed to sleep. But that half an hour was plenty of time for me to reflect on the many times in his younger years that I gave up a good chunk of my nightly rest in order to keep him feeling safe and comfortable. As I was leaving his bedroom the boy came just awake enough to say “Thanks,” and in the end it was worth the next morning’s grogginess to get to feel like a full-on dad again.

Much to love in that story.

Peter’s fear last night was so acute, his need for Jim’s assurance and presence, so tender. Jim’s reflection hits a delicate spot as we are both so aware of the changes coming.

Sniff.

~~

And.. don’t you remember being scared out of your mind the first time you felt those sharp chest pains? I very clearly remember going into my parents’ bedroom to tell them I was having a heart attack. I was probably in junior high, maybe younger, not sure. It was so hard to relax while taking in short, shallow breaths. They still give me great anxiety… it’s a pain that really gets your attention. I grew up thinking they were gas pains. Last night was the first I’d heard muscle spasm as an explanation.

~~

So, speaking of being in love with these skies….

Tonight’s as I pulled into the driveway.

Nothing can be wrong with a February day that hits 79 degrees.

Met Susan and Heidi for lunch down on R Street…. I know, again with R Street. Our intention had been to eat at the Metro Kitchen (and Drinkery) because I said it was great, and it is, but it was also closed, this being a holiday, I guess. So instead, we wandered down to the Fox and Goose for English food. Hadn’t been there for a few decades. It did the trick.

We covered a lot of political territory. These guys are fun to hang with during election season, especially the WorLd-wReStliNg-FedeRatiOn-cLoWn-Car-ciRCuS-oF-tHe-AbsUrd that this season has become. We gave the Scalia matter a full, if somewhat biased, analysis. I doubt anyone will consult us, but it’s clear between the three of us, we know what’s best for the country.

I ran across a quote this evening that complements our conversation well:

Politics, as a practice, whatever its professions, has always been the systematic organization of hatreds. -Henry Adams, historian and teacher (16 Feb 1838-1918)

Sigh.

Anyway, some pictures on the day…

The District:

(I messed with the filters a little, trying to give the scene a bit of old-timey-ness,  and it came out looking broody and overcast, which it certainly wasn’t.)

The Warehouse Artist Lofts, which are quite wonderful:

Some art within… (this is a piece–well, two pieces–that Sarah did and which, if it’s still available, I would like to buy… I just like it). It’s smaller than it looks:

Some shots on the way home… Road 29:

Ended the day drinking wine in the garden with Dianna, for something new and different. Toasted the imminent start of baseball season. T minus 5 days!

Oh… I just hardly know where to start.

I’m back.

I’ve never been gone, but I’ve been so flummoxed by my new laptop (a Macbook Pro)… and its new operating system (El Capitan)… and its new photo management application (Photos)… and all of its problems (not backwards compatible with the previous photo management application), that I just wasn’t able to manage blogging and photo uploading, and I just got behinder and behinder. Which took a lot of wind out of my sails.

But today, I am ridiculously happy to report, I am back. It’s a red letter day not only because it’s Valentine’s Day, but because I was finally able to upload 59,000+ photos to my computer (69,000+ if you count those which have been edited in some way), and actually see them, and actually access them, edit them, and upload them to WordPress. This is all thanks to my team: Jim, Gil, two Apple Care gals, one Apple senior advisor, two Apple Genius Bar guys, the Carbonite gal and the universe. Long story. I’ll spare ya.

I am going to back blog the last couple of months where it makes sense (a lot has been going on that I would like to document, obsessive documentarian that I am), but for today, I will just blog like nothing ever happened.

Today, as I said, it’s Valentine’s Day. It’s an easy one to blog!

I’ll just launch right in here with this pretty little scene from this morning:

Thanks for the flowers, Jim!

And for dinner….

Pizza #1 for Jim and me: Village Pizza crust, pesto, red and yellow peppers, broccoli, mushrooms, tomato, cheddar:

Pizza #2 for Peter: same crust, ham, pineapple, olives, tomato, mozzarella:

And these for dessert: shortbread dipped, or covered, in dark chocolate:

What an exceptional day.

Kisses, flowers, chocolate, hearts, love and functioning software to you all!