Life of Wry

I’m the kind of person who can’t just do stuff she’s been wanting to do forever. The time has to be right. There has to be a rhyme or a reason. It has to fit.  People who know me, know this very anal retentive thing about me.

If it’s something like reading, well, I can’t just read. I have to have the psychic space, the time, the capacity to read. Especially in the case of reading, the decks have to be cleared so I can kick back and absorb the moment fully without worrying that other stuff isn’t getting done. Those other things have to be done. I might even have to have a clean house or at least order around me. I have to have peace.. not literally, but peace in my head, an openness, a readiness.

I am a champion book collector. I buy so many books, it’s a little disturbing. I so love the idea of reading and the expectation that I am going to have the time, soon, to read, that I acquire books at an alarming rate. I have books stacked up everywhere–in baskets, on shelves, on end tables of various sorts. I read reviews (and then buy the book). I listen as other people rave about the book they’re reading (and then buy the book). I listen to stories about books on the radio with great enthusiasm (and then buy the book). I love receiving books.

And yet.

I never read. I have the intention, and, as I said, the expectation. But the time just hasn’t been right. Too much other stuff on my plate. Super, super important stuff, you guys. (Uh..)

I’m not even that bothered by any of this. It’s weird. I just know I will read when I am ready.

(I should mention here, I read a lot, but not books. I read articles, and essays, and Facebook, and online news stories. I even read a bit of the newspaper. It’s not like I don’t consume info. And, I should also clarify: I read other people’s draft novels.. in the last few years, I’ve proofread and/or edited four of these.. two non-fiction, two fiction… and I love that. But it’s not the for pleasure kind of reading I’ve been longing to have the time/space for.)

So… all that said… guess what!  I have started a book and I am now in the middle of it. I have had this [growing] definitive stack of “must reads” in my office, about twenty books all ready to go, but this particular book jumped to the top of the stack because Jim gave it to me for Christmas (2013) and I was too embarrassed not to make it my first.. since it was the latest and greatest acquisition (of the gift variety).  It’s gotten very impressive reviews and when I say I’m reading it, most people nod in recognition, or, in many cases, have already read it.

I feel so awesome when I’m in that club. Self esteem points way up.

I’ve always wanted to be that person sitting in a cafe with the leisure time and wherewithal to be reading. Right? Isn’t that just the best? And…. four or five times in the last two weeks, I’VE BEEN THAT PERSON! Me, at Mishka’s, drinking my au lait, eating my favorite muffin, listening to music, wearing my reading glasses, and reading my book. Sometimes my feet are up on an adjacent chair. It is very cool.

For Mother’s Day, I asked Jim to build me a post on which to string our hammock… because during the summer, I’m going to read there. Yup: newly re-landscaped backyard, hammock hanging between the play structure and the new post, shade, maybe some lemonade (or a beer!).  And a book.

Plenty more to say about this, about this leisure time of which I speak–what it means, what it represents, how I feel about being a 58 year old person who’s got so much of it. I am processing this. And I am a bit unsettled about the whole thing. So… more on that.  In the meantime, I am happy to be reading, because I’ve said I’ve wanted to for a very long time. I said I would have the time one of these days, and now I do. Took a while, but I finally got there.

This is what I’m reading.. Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. And that’s a table at Mishka’s.

So far, so good.

:

Is this insanely pretty or what? It’s that corner again in South Davis that I drive by when I’m coming home from Davis Swim and Fitness.  Breathtaking, especially on a day like this.

What about this one? Along 102, looking north.

And then there was this… Peter and I, in the drive-through of In ‘N Out, found ourselves in the middle of a violent downpour… he was pretty stoked.

Enjoying Peter as he enjoys music. Tonight he played some Pink Floyd on Jim’s guitar and sang. Sang completely unabashedly–nothing at all to be abashed by, but the singing was new. And incredibly sweet.

He knows all the lyrics to so many songs from my generation, songs I should know the lyrics to, and don’t.  I didn’t anticipate that.

Anyway, took no pictures, so went into the archives. Here are his former best pals, Little T and Big T. Rocking out, playing the guitar and singing. Obviously.

Such the portent.

Wish You Were Here

Today, Ruben–and his various crew folk–finished the flagstone path around the yard. Pretty damn excited about this, as it re-establishes some structure to the backyard and defines some planting areas (i.e., next projects).  In the last, oh, fifteen years, say, the backyard has grown rather amorphous looking.. there were remnants of a previous landscape design, but groomed areas had given way to neglect and a certain tussled-ness became the predominant theme.  Not entirely unkept, but definitely not garden-tour worthy.

Anyway, here’s the more-or-less 360:

One’s first view, when crossing the bridge:

Heading left and around to the backside:

Rounding the former play structure and soon-to-be garden shed with terrace-roof (note spur trail off to right, which leads down to the future raised bed:

Over the creek, past the ailing nectarine tree, and back to the bridge:

He reinforced what was a haphazardly laid stone path, which is now pretty cool, which also leads to the future raised bed:

And he repurposed a once randomly placed boulder into a perfect garden bench:

It’s a little hard to tell, but the new bench is perfectly flat on top. It’s a great place to sit in a very shaded, and now very accessible, spot. We’re also going to be adding a post for stringing a hammock (other end will secure to the garden shed (as it were).

All ready for the next project(s).

This is a photo of Peter and Daniel working through some signs. Maybe. At least that’s what we’d like to believe.

It was Crush’s first season, the fall of 2008. They are 10.

That was only five and a half years ago, but a lifetime for them.

A couple of days ago, right after school, I dropped Peter’s bat bag off just before practice. We met, as we typically do, at the corner of Catalina and Covell, adjacent to the JV field.  Daniel had just re-parked his car (yes, his car) on Catalina so it’d be close when practice ended.

So here they are, one big 16 year old and another nearly 16 year old, walking together to practice.

Still playing together.

(Note: It bears mentioning, that when Peter was a teeny toddler, I’d take him to Central Park to play on the play structure.  I’d take him to all the parks in town, but frequently, when at Central Park, we’d run into retired DJUSD superintendent Floyd Fenocchio, whom I used to work with, and who was taking care of his grandson, who happened to be the same age as Peter.  And, yeah.. that was Daniel. Little did we know then, that five years later, they’d both start T-Ball, and five years after that, they’d be on the same travel team. Both had been selected to play in the District 64 tournament for their respective leagues, and when a brand new travel team was formed with the best from each of those teams, Peter and Daniel ended up playing together.  They played for four years together on Crush. Both then made the freshman team, and this year, both made the JV team. We still see Floyd at all the games. Been a great ride. Hoping it continues..)

Peter announced with great fanfare tonight that, for the first time in history, he is the heaviest guy in the house. 

This is his weight after a big Guadalajara dinner and with clothes on, and includes about 2 lbs of dirt from today’s windy, dusty game, but even if he accounted for that, and he’s only 141 or thereabouts, he’s still in the lead.

I am running a too-close second, but am happy to say the gap between first and second is widening. Happy for Peter–who just can’t gain weight fast enough–and for me, since, you know, I’ve been working at going down the scale, with some success I might add (day 54 of latest effort, and counting). I’ve now got my sights on Mr. Last Place.. hoping to one day reclaim that distinction. It’s been a long while, and will be a long while, but it shall be.

I’ll keep you posted.

That’s a stretch, but how often does a non-physicist get to say that?

The birthday in question was Jim’s, his 61st. It was a Wednesday, so we had to keep it pretty low key, which, actually, is the way he prefers it, so it all worked out.  Basically, good birthdays are about having some nice family time, and in Jim’s case, family time and pecan pie. Those are the essentials; anything else is a bonus.

Got lucky this year. It’s hard to come up with a better weeknight family activity than seeing a movie at the Varsity… but not just any movie–a documentary about particle physics.

Hard to be more perfect. A physics documentary is totally up Jim’s alley, but this stuff has long been Peter’s obsession, so for an activity that everyone likes, it was an easy choice. I even got watery eyed–moved and fascinated by the beauty of science. They told a very compelling story.

Then, it was warm and pleasant enough to eat outside, which we did at El Toro Bravo and had such a good dinner while we talked about the movie (and Peter impressed us with his curiosity, questions and grasp of so much of it).

Returned home and ate some of this and opened a couple presents:

Thing to note: the letterJ spelled out in pecans.

And for presents: game one in the Giant’s home stand against the Cardinals (not until July) and Elizabeth Warren’s new book, A Fighting Chance.

Peter has about two months left on a six-month course of Acutane, a medication that treats acne.  It has three side effects that have affected Peter. One is bloody noses. Lots of them. And this is what the teenage boy who lives in our house does with that.

Gross or inspired?  You decide.

The second side effect is very, very, very dry skin and lips. The treatment is designed to dry up all your oil-producing glands and thus eliminate the oil buildup that causes acne.  I guess you could say that it is working great. His face is stiff as a board and his lips look like someone took a cheese grater to them. Quite a sight, but he doesn’t complain. He’s always had a very high tolerance for discomfort.

The final side effect (there are others, but these are the three bothering Peter the most) is painful joints. This has the most unfortunate effect of slowing Peter way down. He didn’t inherit his mama’s speed anyway, so this really compounds the problem. He is noticeably slow, almost comically so, around the bases.  Poor guy.

Anyway, we are not begrudging him his blood art.

(It’s not that we use that sink for food or anything…)

(Photo taken last week when I was making some carrot juice and wanted to remember how many carrots it took to produce a quart of juice…about two dozen.)

Walked up A street…

(These, while rather spectacular, are not my cup of tea. I find them sort of obscene, not because of their shape, but because of their size, which is just so out of scale.)

Then down Miller..

(These, on the other hand, are flower perfection.)

Then came upon this in South Davis, Cowell Blvd, near that park where the Dave Pelz Bicycle Overpass comes down (or goes up, depending on your direction).

(As are these…flower perfection)

You will see prettier specimens, but here are our first blooms.  Planted in the fall, this plant is now about 5′ tall and a bit rangy, but hey, Matilijas!

Says a site devoted to these things:

Matilija poppy is a glabrous, shrubby perennial, heavy branched and woody at the base, growing to 8′ tall. The showy white flowers are the largest of any plant native to California, and look like fried eggs. There are 5-8 per stem and the six petals are usually crinkled with many yellow stamens and a single large pistil. The three sepals are glabrous, which differentiates it from the other Romneyaspecies, trichocalyx, which has bristly or appressed-hairy sepals.  The leaves are alternate and have 3-5 main segments which are somewhat dentate or cleft.  Matilija poppy inhabits dry washes and canyons below 4000′ in coastal sage scrub and chaparral away from the immediate coast.  It is an occasional resident in the Peninsular Ranges, but is more common in the Santa Ana Mts to San Diego Co., being found also in the Santa Monica Mts where it was probably begun by transplanting.  It blooms from May to July.  The name Matilija (pronounced ma-TIL-i-ha or ma-til-EE-ha) appears to be of Chumash origin, and I have seen one source that relates the name to a Chief Matilija who lived in Ventura County. The name is used also for Matilija Canyon above the community of Ojai and Matilija Creek in the Los Padres National Forest.

 

I didn’t know what glabrous meant, and since the author uses the word twice, I figured it was important.

Definition of GLABROUS

:  smooth; especially :  having a surface without hairs or projections <glabrous skin> <glabrous leaves>