Life of Wry

I love afternoons like this. I really love them. I understand that there is more to life than purging and organizing, i do…but give me a rainy day, some very messy bookcases in serious need of de-cluttering, and books stacked all over the house crying to be shelved, and oh my but the sorting section of my brain begins to convulse.

About noon, I took this before photo.

Then got to work.

The first thing I did was throw this out.

Have you ever seen anything so weird? I’ve been holding onto this “tree” for about eight years and I guess today I reached my limit. It was an award presented to Davis Community Network for some work we’d done to benefit nonprofits. I honestly cannot remember the organization that gave us the award, nor exactly what it was for. I’d gone back to Washington, D.C. to receive it on DCN’s behalf, believe it or not, in conjunction with a conference that made sense to attend, and carefully carried it back with nary a scratch. It’s heavy, made of some kind of plaster, and quite fragile. And it is ugly as all get out. DCN no longer has an office in which to display such a thing and I think nobody will be the wiser.

I only regret tossing what is without a doubt the best White Elephant gift a person could ever hope to have… but can’t see holding onto it for that one chance to unload it.

Here’s another thing that was easy to unload:

No idea how or why I ended up with this book in the first place, but now, after all that’s come out about the once-lovable Bill Cosby, I certainly don’t want it. Creepy, huh?

Here are some other book oddities:

After pulling every book off every shelf in the house (not counting the shelves in Peter’s room, which I’d culled last year, nor Jim’s office shelves which I’d never dare touch), cleaning them all and sorting by genre, I found that I had:

– Three copies of Pema Chodren’s “When Things Fall Apart,” which seems kind of ironic.. or maybe desperate? Dunno, but it cracked me up.

– Two copies of Noam Chomsky’s “What Uncle Sam Really Wants,” which I find weird since I can’t remember even knowing about, much less acquiring, this book.

– Three copies of “Catcher in the Rye,” which is okay by me, but good as it is, I only need one.

– Two copies of “Three Cups of Tea,” which I know exactly how that happened because I remember buying my second copy while in an airport in Kathmandu, but now I have a great gift to give to somebody, except now I also want to get Jon Krakauer’s rebuttal to that whole story (“Three Cups of Deceit”), because it sounds like he’s got a bone to pick with the way the story was represented and I’d like to hear his version, and would like to add that to the other great Jon Krakauer books I have. Which are all now together in a section that includes other adventure mountain books. We all have a dedicated shelf for that, right? I am so organized.

By 6:30 I was done with most of the project and had re-loaded this bookcase:

Looks great! I can’t take my eyes off it.

Jim helped me hang three of the pictures that had just been gathering dust on the bookshelves for years. This is a big deal because Jim absolutely despairs of this picture-hanging process. I sure don’t know why, I’m a total team player, non demanding, non critical (I swear), but man, black cloud over his head the whole time. Still, I’m thrilled to get those up at long last.

I still have stacks of books to dust and load into another three cases (two in the living room, one in my office), but the hard part’s over– deciding which genres go where and making sure there is enough room for them all.  I will finish that tomorrow.

And.. after all this, there were about a hundred books that didn’t make the cut… so we’ll donate them to the Davis Food Coop which is coordinating a book drive for STEAC.

Win win.

I’ve come to love these semi-annual breakfasts with Elliot–once a colleague, now a treasured buddy. We meet in Berkeley, more or less in the middle between Palo Alto and Davis. (That is quite the trio of Northern California college towns.) We’ve found ourselves in something of a rut, but it’s a wonderful rut. Breakfast is always here, Rick and Ann’s over by the Claremont Hotel:

Followed typically by a walk, either through the Berkeley campus, the Berkeley neighborhoods, Tilden park or sometimes the Rose Garden. Lots of shop talk, which is still interesting, and lots of family catch up. More news these days of exercise routines and health issues. And today, a little sharing on a recent AARP article. Gack.

Here are a few shots of campus and surrounds:

South side of campus, entering from Telegraph Ave. This I believe is Sather Rd:

Sproul Hall:

Sather Gate:

Along Euclid, north of campus.

And this was a drive by, along College Avenue, may now be in Oakland:

After Elliot, I was so close to Piedmont Gardens, I’d decided to stop in and visit for a few minutes with Annita. She woke up a little and talked, but she was very hard to understand. Even so, it was nice to see her.

These are two of my most recent favorite words and describe the day pretty well. I can find neither in the dictionary, however, but maybe I’m not looking hard enough. I’m not beyond making up words, but these seem pretty legit.

Anyway, I’m enjoying a rainy day–especially the part in the cafe with book and coffee and muffin. Had great intentions to plow through a bookshelf purging and reorganization project, but … well … other stuff happened.

So… here are a few rainy day shots: the first one is apparently what it looked like in the seventies when it rained, because the filter I used is called, descriptively, ’70s: 

Does that say seventies to you? To me it says besoaked and besodden.

The next couple are just under-the-umbrella shots… tricky if you’re holding said umbrella and leftover burrito in one hand and shooting with the other. It is raining, even if you can’t tell:

Jim’s aunt Annita turned 91 a little over a week ago. She spent her birthday at the Summit Medical Center in Oakland, having been admitted five days earlier because she’d gotten to the point where she was unable to eat or drink and her husband (Jim’s uncle Dean) was struggling to care for her. After about a week, they moved her to Piedmont Gardens, a skilled nursing facility not too far from their home. She’s now in the hospice ward and it looks like that’s where she’ll remain.

Piedmont Gardens is just around the corner from the historic Church of St. Leo the Great, which is where Annita and Dean were married (60 years ago), and where I think all five of their kids (most of them anyway) went to St. Leo’s catholic school.. as did Jim and his two siblings.

These things are hard. Annita lived a long life and I think she would say it was full and rich and happy.  But it’s still sad to see the matriarchs go. It’s sad to see the generation pass on. Jim’s mom (Annita’s sister) died almost 45 years ago–way too early–from cancer, so to see Annita frail and close, is bringing up a lot of sad memories. It’s like she’s taking with her the last part of Jim’s mom.

Annita and Sonia were raised in Brazil, children of a French mom and Brazilian dad, and lived a high life. The short version of the story–I’m definitely glossing over details here–is that on a vacation to California when the sisters were young adults, they met two brothers from Kansas at some kind of officers club and (eventually) married them–Dean and Jim’s dad. Two sisters married two brothers… it made for a lot of very close cousins.

Four of the eight cousins live in or within an hour of the Bay Area. The other four are scattered about, but still close and in touch. Email’s been flying the last three weeks. Jim and I went down today to see Annita and spend some time with Dean. We saw John (who came up from Arcadia) and Marie who drove over from Mountain View.

The good news is they are able to keep her comfortable. She doesn’t really have anything wrong, she’s just old and slowing way, way down. We’re not sure how aware she is; her memory is mostly gone. Most of the time she sleeps; she’s really not even able to eat. I think it will be a quiet passing.

Here are some pictures:

Sonia (left) and Annita (right) in outfits their mom, Vovo, a designer (I’m corrected when I call her a seamstress) made:

In 1930 (age 7):

In 1932 (age 9):

This one’s from a family reunion in 2001 (age 78):

Christmas 2008 (age 85):

And a couple from a reunion in 2011 (age 88):

And with Uncle Dean, who’s taken very good care of her:

Again with the filters.

Fall must be a good time for messing with one’s camera settings, because I’m having all kinds of fun doing it and coming up with images I really like.

This may be my favorite photo of all time.. something about the light really appeals to me.

This uses the HDR setting and is particularly zingy:

This one is just a typical fall arboretum shot.. nothing wrong with that:

I kind of like the grunge effect. I’d unintentionally reversed my perspective and thought it looked interesting as I was walking along:

Then we came upon this art piece….

And upon closer inspection, saw it was a collection of gingko leaves that someone had painstakingly arranged in concentric circles around this bench. So unusual, so nice.

Felt all sickish today… a variety of cold symptoms returned… so didn’t do too much.

My big outing of the day–meeting Jim here for lunch (so what else is new?). It is one of my favorite downtown corners: nice building, nice colors, nice trees, nice views… lots of activity. Comfort food was in order.

Ambled around on a couple of errands, took a few pictures, returned home to wallow and futz with photos. Came up with these for the day:

Third and B, heading west on Third, toward campus:

Along B Street, across from Central Park. Those apartments:

And the ol’ look-down shot, when all else fails:

Here is the perfect morning.

Wake up in a warm cabin in the heart of the Sierra. Button up flannel pajamas and amble downstairs. Pour some Peet’s into a large fiesta cup and add a splash (more than a splash) of half and half. Kick back.

Breathe in the incomparable aroma of fresh-baked crackers (I’m not kidding, these are amazing: bit of wheat flour, dried fruit, nuts, rosemary and other wholesome goodnesses).

Julie’s hands cut slices from previously baked-then-cooled loaf…

… and spread on sheet to bake until crispy:

Fill a plate with warm, crunchy crackers, cover in goat cheese, add a few hunks of cantaloupe. Sit, eat and quietly thank your angels.

After a bit, replace flannel pjs with levis, your favorite black waffle henle, and a few more layers of pile and down. Lace up boots and mobilize for a walk in 32 degree mountain air.

Then, camera and iPhone at the ready, head downriver (the Upper Truckee) for a couple-mile walk with a pair-o-pals.

First, the photographer on a sunny morning:

An early morning river shot:

A genuine tree hugger:

Who’s climbed up this tree.. Julie up, Carrie down:

Looking downriver (as Julie dismounts):

Walking on:

More of my favorite river shots from today, and more experimentation with different filters:

Then head back, pack, clean, empty and load up. This is Gail, a very generous and gracious cabin host out in front:

And a couple views down 50 again, because I can’t resist road shots:

Perfect morning. Happy place.

Got a little gift of a hike today. Didn’t expect it, so it was extra appreciated. We are four: Carrie, Gail, Julie and me at a cabin near South Lake Tahoe.  I am along for the ride, a fourth wheel on a tricycle, willing to do whatever these guys do when they come up here, it’s all good. I brought hiking stuff in case, and so it was. Only Julie and I were interested though.

We drove just a little bit down the Upper Truckee Road, across 50, down the road a bit more and to a trail head. Up a trail about maybe a mile, maybe a mile and a quarter. Easy grade, but nice views. We turned around when we reached 50, at just about Echo Summit. Perfect morning hike. Here are some pics.

Along the road:

At the trailhead:

At a good view spot. That’s Julie in front, Tahoe in back:

A tiny bit of snow:

Leafless aspens:

Postscript: I am now back from the weekend trip, and after a little googling, found out a little more about this Hawley Grade. First of all, it was about two miles from the trailhead up to Echo Summit, and it was something between about 750 and 900 feet of elevation gain (found lots of different opinions on this). So…longer and slightly more rigorous than it felt that morning, probably because we talked like fiends the whole way.

Secondly, this is a place of historic significance.  Here’s what I found out: 

“Along Hawley Grade you relive a bit of California’s history by ascending the first wagon road to be built across the central Sierra. Hawley’s Grade was a short-lived but key link in a trans-Sierra route to Hangtown and Sacramento. By 1850, Hangtown–today’s Placerville–had become the unofficial capital of northern California’s gold-mining region, and two years later a route of sorts was built from it to Johnson Pass–1/4 mile north of today’s Echo Summit–from where it dropped into Lake Valley. Drop it did, so steeply in fact that block and tackle had to be used to haul westbound wagons up it. An alternative grade had to be found. 

A route over Luther Pass, to the southeast, was surveyed in the winter of 1854 for the purpose of providing a wagon road to Sacramento and Hangtown that would be better than Johnson Pass and also shorter and easier than the primitive Carson Pass route. That spring, Asa Hawley established a trading post in upper Lake Valley near a part of the Upper Truckee canyon’s wall that quickly became known as Hawley’s Hill. Construction soon began on a grade that would be gentle enough to safely accommodate wagons. Financed by private interests, this route–Hawley’s Grade–was completed in 1857, making it the first conventional wagon road to cross the central Sierra. Combined with a recently constructed Luther pass segment, this grade fast became the route to take. In 1858, El Dorado and Sacramento counties improved western segments of this largely-one-lane toll road, making it far superior to the higher, longer, snowbound Carson Pass route  to the south. 

Timing couldn’t have been better, for in 1859, sliver was discovered in the Comstock Lode at Virginia Town, today’s Virginia City. Traffic was reversed on the road as a flood of miners from California’s gold fields scrambled east over this toll road to try their luck at or near Virginia Town. Alas, even as Hawley’s Grade was constructed to channel westbound miners and pioneers into California’s Mother Load country faster than was possible along the Carson Grade, so too were plans made to convey miners and others east to the Comstock by a faster route. By the summer of 1860, a wagon-and-stage roll road–abandoned today–had been constructed down Meyer’s Grade, then east to climb over Daggett Pass, situated above Tahoe’s southeast shore. Hawley’s Grade, briefly a shortcut that siphoned traffic from the Carson Pass route, now became the longer, unprofitable toll road.”

Cool, huh?

My favorite. Riding shotgun and clicking away.  Here are a few from the drive up to Tahoe this afternoon on a beautiful fall day. Nice to get out of today’s valley fog (though, wow, that was nice to see after forever).

On the road, just out of Sac:

Getting colorful:

And colorfuller:

And Tahoe comes into view:

Settling in, wine in hand, appetizers on table, waiting for the others to show up. And they’re bringing dinner!

Happy.

Someone thought these were very pretty fall street-scapes. It wasn’t Jim.

I just thought they were worth a few quick snaps.

I mean, imagine: Walking downtown. it’s wet, heavy, dark, be-soaked, sodden. And the colors are peak-fall rich. I simply must capture it. I’m quick on the draw, he’s not THAT late for his 2:00 appointment. C’mon. But he is not amused. I would say the whole lunch went that way, but that would be sensitive me.

Whatever.

Here are a few nice pics from midday:

Walking through Central Park:

Crossing Russell, looking east:

Not earth shattering pictures, I grant ya, but if you’re a photo-a-day blogger, you do what ya gotta do. As I write this, the sun’s coming out. According to my weather app, that’s it for rain for awhile. Now are you glad I got some pics?