Saturday, October 17, 2020

Words of Wisdom


 Today is the BIG mail-out for Vote Forward - TWO MILLION letters with go out encouraging registered voters to VOTE! Step up!

Sunday, October 4, 2020

Richard Mayhew, How do I Love Thee?

 

 This painting is NOT by Richard Mayhew. It's mine: "Weeds, Sunset, Pt. Reyes"

The artist, Richard Mayhew is among my top three living artists. If you aren't familiar with his work, visit his array of eye candy at Artsy

The DeYoung in San Francisco has one of his paintings, Rhapsody, on permanent display, and I would visit it on every trip (I didn't show it here because viewing it on the website above is so much better). Mayhew's color combinations are nothing short of astounding. Rhapsody is always chosen to partner with a flower arrangement during the annual "Bouquets to Art" celebration. 

He claims he doesn't really do landscapes, per se, but tries to capture the mood of a time and place with color. 

I painted a lot up to my 30s, then just got too busy with life. Thanks to the DeYoung's emails and Art Projects, I've dabbled a little again. The above is my extremely modest attempt to make visual the feeling of looking out over a fragrant feed of wild grasses and plants as the fog rolls in at sunset in Pt. Reyes. With apologies (and thanks for the inspiration) to RM and the DeYoung.

The DeYoung is open again (Frida Kahlo!) to visitors with reservations (and masks, of course), and the Legion of Honor will soon follow with what promises to be an awe-inspiring exhibit on the last days of Pompeii.

Friday, September 18, 2020

09.18.2020 - Air Christmas

 

 


Text reads:

Sept. 18

Air Christmas

I never realized how much I enjoyed breathing until I couldn't. Since the 16th, smoke levels have dropped to normal - all the windows & doors are open, all fans going full blast. 

I find myself taking full deep breaths throughout the day [just for the pleasure of it!]. I'm outside as much as possible.

Air is good here, almost as good for Nikki in Sacramento, but continues to be bad for my nephew Paul & wife Jenara in Portland.

________________

All the prayer cards in my blog were collected by my Aunt Ann at the memorial mass for my grandmother. They all read:

"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." - St. Matt, V.S.

My [sic] Jesus have mercy on the Soul of 

Josephine Tracz 

at Rest July 18, 1968 

Prayer: O Gentlest Heart of Jesus, ever present in the Blessed Sacrament, ever consumed with burning love for the poor captive souls in Purgatory, have mercy on the Soul of Thy departed servant. Be not severe in Thy judgment but let some drops of Thy precious blood fall upon the devouring flames, and do Thou O merciful Saviour send Thy angels to conduct Thy departed servant to a place of refreshment, light and peace. Amen

May the soul of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

MacFarlane - Bryant Chapel, Concord, California

__________

I haven't been a practicing Catholic since I was 16 and my mother stopped forcing me to go to mass ("If you don't go to mass, you don't leave the house on the weekend"). I never quite "got" Jesus and all the bloody, scary imagery. I'm OK with COPU though (Central Operating Principle of the Universe - my term). I definitely believe there's a higher power. I mean, look out the window. May we all rest (and breathe) in peace while we're still here to enjoy it!


Saturday, September 12, 2020

09.11.20 Continued - My Hairdresser

 

Text reads:

9.11.20

I loved the idea of long hair. The reality sucked (though the French braid was nice). It was like wearing a rug. So I brushed it back, caught it in a flat barrette, and chopped it off w/ kitchen shears.

I learned early not to ask for anything. "Money doesn't grow on trees" after all [One of my father's favorite sayings. It occurs to me now that if I did ask for something, I might have gotten at least a few things instead of nothing. Lesson learned]. So I figured out how to cut my own hair.

[top pic] My new hairdresser [the kitchen shears, with what I cut off]

[middle picture, left] Free at last!

[middle picture, right - my senior yearbook picture] The last time I cut my own hair. Others had ratted flips - I based my cut on Gina Lolobrigida [sp?]. I was the only high school senior who looked like an Italian film star...I didn't look like anybody else!

[bottom pic] Now. Attempting the pose from high school. Nothing remains the same!

Friday, September 11, 2020

09.11.20 - Remember Air?

Text reads:

9/11/20 Air

Remember Air?

It used to be a "thing".

Air Quality Index chart: Air quality today, 230, Very Unhealthy
 

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

09.09.20 and 09.10.20 - Life on Mars

Text reads:

Sept. 9, 2020

Surely one of the strangest days of my life. Woke up at 9:20 - It's so dark out! And the world is orange. The marine layer keeps the smoke from hundreds of surrounding fires flowing over us like a river.

[top pic] Not Mars. The view from Shelly's (T.'s sister) window in the City [thanks Shelly and Theresa T.]

[middle pic] 2nd bedroom window at 9:30AM

[bottom pic, left] Stella my Mars light, Pt. Reyes [thanks Jan W. and Tony R.]

Orange you glad you don't live here?

An accidental butterfly 

__________________

Sept. 10

[bottom pic right] Ash

Not so orange today. Ash Ave., Ash everywhere. 

A.Q. 145. Smells like cedar.
 

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

09.08.20 Continued - Books, Books, Books

 
Text reads:

Sept. 8, 20

 I've been reading a LOT since January. Have also finished "The Yellow House," "71/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle." and (almost) "Utopia Ave." Most of the time, it's a great place to put my time - otherwise, it's just dreary. And sometimes it's exasperating! Tiresome! The lack of variety and freedom is wearing. Yesterday, I got my first pedicure since last fall - outside at Jenny's Bloom in Novato. I hope it's OK.

[Jenny was looking forward to having clients inside on Sept. 9 - it didn't happen because Marin is still in tier 1, thanks to the overwhelming number of Covid cases in the canal. Here in my area: 55 cases. In the canal and larger San Rafael: 1,780. This is getting outrageous. Counties all around us are opening up, but not us.]

 


 

09.08.20 - A House Afire

Text reads:

Sept. 3. Olav's ex-wife's husband dies of Covid.

 

Sept. 8, 2020

Power shut-off in 22 counties including Sonoma.

Cloudy today? Oh no, that's smoke. If you go outside and take a big whiff, it's houses burning, not forests.

 
 

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Monday, August 31, 2020

08.29.20 Continued - Hey, Feel Comfortable and Easy!

My toothy friend has a double message. Today was a good day, He wants us all to feel comfortable...
and easy....

Saturday, August 29, 2020

08.29.20 - A Class in Art Journaling


 I took a class in art journaling today, which mostly consisted of us working quietly at home while connected by Zoom. In spite of the weird circumstances, it was inspiring. We began by writing for 10 minutes on how we felt at this point about the whole Covid/fire situation (that's the background of the picture), then working from there. Since I hadn't done much artwork since my 40s, I figured I'd be rusty and dogged by a need for perfection, which wasn't going to happen. I turned out several pages; this is the first.

Text reads:

Joy! It's that moment when activity ceases and you discover the power of stillness. And in stillness there's time to think. 

August 29, 2020

Perfection is the death of joy.

I may be winning, but I'm SO tired.

I'm so done with this.

Friday, August 28, 2020

08.26.20 - 08.28.20 - Animals and Gardens

 

Text reads:

August 26, Wednesday

Because there are fewer humans about, there's been all sorts of wildlife sightings. 

Fly! Birds of all types.

2 fox kits playing in a neighbor's back yard on the slide.

A pair on the wall: raccoons, young, bold, curious. 

Rats in my compost, selecting lunch, burrowing in to  make a nest.

A long, skinny Bobcat on a neighbor's deck. Like gold!

The smoke continues but it's cooler today, with a cloud cover. It's difficult to not feel depressed💙😠 or angry. I continue to meditate every day but have stopped exercising.

_____

August 28, 2020

My garden has been a deep source of pleasure and respite for me. But the 8 ft. wall behind is crumbling. The engineer has submitted his report. I wait to see what will happen to my 45 plants, some of which are more than 30 years old.

 

Tuesday, August 25, 2020

08.25.20 - A Little Background

 

 
 Text reads:
Aug. 25, 2020  A Little Background
Covid-19, an often-fatal virus, is raging through the world. As of March 16, 2020, Marin County is in shut-down mode. We are isolated in our homes. We thought it would last a month. It is now August 25, with no end in sight.
We have all become hermits! I miss people. I miss shopping.
We can venture out, with masks on, as of late July. Meetings inside, or with more than 10 people, are discouraged. I see [my old friends] Olav and Dee on Saturday mornings for coffee for 1 hour (outside, at Victoria Pastry in Bon Air Center). Sometimes the "fun gang" (Nick, Patty, Jan, Tony +) at their place in Pt. Reyes or the beach.
I want to see the Perseid Meteor Shower. I book a cabin at Brannan Island for Monday August 17th, 2020. A heat wave is predicted. It is VERY dry. [I had planned to meet my daughter and son-in-law there for a barbecue]
115 degrees in Citrus Heights.
108 degrees Brannan Island
100 degrees Marin County. I don't go to Brannan.
Sat. night, a "dry" thunderstorm with intense lightning.Sat. Aug. 15 - Sun. Aug. 16.
Monday Aug. 17, 2020. The fires begin. Heat remains in the 90s -80s. 
August 24, 2020. Pat's {my son-in-law] sister Bobbi dies in an Alzheimer's care facility from Covid-19.
_______________
The pictures are from Italian wrapping paper, featuring tarot cards. I wish I knew the name of the fabulous artist who drew these.
L'eremita - The Hermit
Le Stelle - The Stars
Il Sole - The Sun
Il Giudizio - The Judgement (or Trial)
La Morte - Death


 
 
 

Monday, August 24, 2020

08.24.20 - The First Day. Fires Everywhere

 

The text reads:

August 24, 2020, First Day

Fires rage all over California, in places that have never seen fire before. Marin Coast, Big Basin Redwoods. Every day is hot and smoky. Olema and Limantour Beach are burning. [Known as the Woodward Fire]













Sunday, August 23, 2020

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse....

 I put off keeping a journal about Covid-19 because , frankly, I had gotten used to it. Used to gasping for air while wearing the sweaty, uncomfortable mask every time I was inside a shop or might even approach another person outside. Social distance, no problem. 

Then, in August, came the incredible heat, followed by lightning storms, followed by fire after fire. The worst "fire season" California has ever seen. I started keeping an art journal with writing and pictures on August 24. And yes, it could get worse.

Friday, June 26, 2020

The Champagne of Bottled Springs


View from the enclosed "beauty baths"

I crossed over the mountain from a pleasant 65-degree, overcast, calm morning in Fort Bragg to Willits and Ukiah, where a 106-degree temperature nearly melted my car seats. Isn't it just like California to have a 35-degree temperature change an hour's distance away.


My main reason for stopping in Ukiah was Vichy Springs Resort, one of the oldest continuously operating mineral springs in the state. Vichy is touted as "Jack London's favorite" for it's bubbly carbonated water. It's certainly gone upscale since my last trip here 15 years ago. Then it was a clothing-optional hippie haven, with a shed where you paid to use the facilities. Now there's a set of hotel rooms, an Olympic-size pool, walking trails and landscaping. One of the trails leads to a waterfall  But some things remain the same as they were in 1854, when the former Native American site was "discovered" by settlers.

The old concrete tubs are stained with 160 year's of constant mineral
inflow. Bathing suits are required throughout the property, but there are 3 two-tub rooms like this one which can be conveniently locked for those who eschew swimwear. There are outdoor open tubs, and an open hot tub (104 degrees). The mineral bathing water isn't hot as most think of mineral springs - it's kept at 70 degrees year round.  If you sit still in the regular baths, you'll be covered with thousands of tiny bubbles, thanks to the water's carbonation - the "champagne effect." The tubs are huge: 8 feet long and 3 feet deep, and the bottoms are rough from decades of use (if you wear a suit, make it your shabbiest one, as the rough bottoms are tough on YOUR bottom and will tear up the lycra). Be warned: if you have some difficulty stepping down and up that distance, you'll need assistance (they're planning on putting up grab bars).



Tubs fill and empty using 1860s tech: You pull up the standpipe (the white thing in this pic) and place it in the hole on the other end of the tub; the tub fills. Reverse the procedure to empty the tub.

This particular tub is in the "beauty baths", which have more boron and less carbonation than the regular tubs. That mound surrounding the standpipe is a century of mineral flow accumulation of iron, sulphur and other minerals, supposedly great for softening the skin.

All I know is that I felt relaxed and happy after my $35 two-hour visit ($50 for three hours). Must have been the tiny bubbles.




On the way down 101, I was struck by a sudden desire tor barbecue, and I found a most interesting place: The Hamburger Ranch Slow Cooked BBQ in north Cloverdale (pardon me, "The World Famous Hamburger Ranch & BBQ" - they have a wall of international postcards to prove it). Country music on the speakers, old west funk decor and great BBQ. I fell in love with the waiter when he cheerfully replied, "Of course!" to every request. I understand this place is normally packed for sports games - I hope that's in their future. Meanwhile, if you're in the neighborhood, it's a worthwhile stop. Good 'cue isn't easy to find.

Thursday, June 25, 2020

Getaway to Fort Bragg

Housebound for three-plus months is tough for anyone. I decided to take a spur-of-the-moment trip north on Highway 101, through the former home of racehorse Seabiscuit (and infamous pot-growing region) of Willits across the great divide on Highway 20 to Fort Bragg. Fort Bragg considered changing the name of the town recently; upon examination, the town's namesake, Braxton Bragg, turned out to have been a wildly racist, embarrassingly incompetent Confederate General who never set foot in the area. They've since dropped the issue
It's been a good 15-plus years since I visited Glass Beach, which is now part of McKerricher State Park. Last time I was there, it was little more than a dump site that had been thoroughly ground down by wave action, leaving thousands of bits of multi-colored beach glass. Nothing remains the same.
But first: I lucked out on AirB&B to find a place rarely unoccupied - it couldn't have been a better choice. It was a separate, fully equipped small cabin, surrounded by a gorgeous garden, enclosed in a redwood forest. The space itself was squeaky clean and full of books, pillows and every imaginable comfort, including full kitchen and bath. Kay, the owner and hostess extraordinare, met me at the gate.

No wonder this place is hard to book - if you're interested, definitely jump on it during an opening. It may be foggy at the beach, but here, a mile inland, it's sunny and quiet.
The first thing I did after settling in was a trip to Glass Beach. It's not a dump site any more. There's a big parking lot and beautiful trails throughout the bluffs, plenty of informative signs - but alas, not a lot of glass. They should rename it "Glitter Beach" or "Sparkle Beach" or some such, because tiny bits of old clear glass (colored grayish white from the waves) are littered among the shells and stones.

The sandy beaches were nearly empty; the weather was typical for a Northern California beach: sunny but windy in the early evening, about 62 degrees F.
A number of wildflowers grow in the region, some of them rare. Many were in full bloom, and to see them popping out of the waving grasses in mounds was a thing of beauty.





The old trestle - a good place to watch the sunset.
Wait, is that a body in the water?


Nope. It's someone's old beach towel/chef's apron that got away.


A note on dinner, alas. As a travel writer, I'm used to eating alone, and I seldom run into any kind of "special" treatment. Fort Bragg is a fairly large, isolated town with few sources of income for anyone except the tourist trade, which is less than half of what it usually is. That's why I was surprised by the oddly rude behavior of my waiter at Silver's at the Wharf. The staff, including my waiter, were laughing and joking with other patrons in groups of two or more - especially those that ordered from the bar. When I didn't, and ordered an inexpensive menu item, my waiter practically sneered at me. The fish and chips came quickly (decent rock cod and exceptional hand-cut fries, by the way), and timing was adequate, if somewhat unfriendly. Maybe I reminded him of his first wife.

Monday, June 22, 2020

Week #.....Aw, I've lost count. ART WILL SAVE US!


Covid-19 is still with us, with no signs of letting up. Here in Marin County, the local health organization has made it easy to get tested. I don't know if that's what's contributing to the new bump up in numbers, or whether people have gotten lazy about masks and gatherings. It's truly tough to go three and half months (since March 16) without seeing friends and family face-to-face! However, it's a lot tougher to get sick, very very sick, or be responsible for infecting hordes of people. It's not easy to grasp the exponential growth of infection, but one person truly can say, "I contain multitudes" (thank you, Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself") when it comes to the ability to infect and sicken large numbers of people.
On the good side, people are forced to slow down, become more introspective, and recognize what is truly valuable in our lives. A lot of set-aside home projects are getting done. And there's a lot of good TV and great videos out there!

Monday, March 30, 2020

Start of Week 3, and Just What I Needed to Read


This article was published on 3/27/20 in Fast Company Magazine online. For us in Marin, this is the beginning of the third week of Stay-in-Place, and many of us are feeling it - especially since the news is out that the order will be extended until May 1. Great article! Thanks FC!

A former Navy SEAL and a neuroscientist share 3 secrets for overcoming coronavirus stress

The stress and confinement of being in a mini-submarine are similar to those induced by the coronavirus pandemic. A neuroscientist and a Navy SEAL explain the simple principles that can help you combat the anxiety of uncertainty and thrive.


A former Navy SEAL and a neuroscientist share 3 secrets for overcoming coronavirus stress


Crammed into the back of a mini-submarine with three other large SEALs, weapons, radios, and packs, you have little space to move, much less find comfort. It’s cold, wet, dark, and cramped. You’re never certain how long the trip will take. After an hour or so, seasickness sets in, and the only place to release is in the very mask you breathe from.
After two hours, cramping sets in, but with no room to stretch, you can only absorb the pain and wait for it to pass. After three hours, you start to think you might be going crazy as a glow stick dances around the darkness. After four or five hours, the submarine finally settles on the bottom of the seafloor, a few hundred yards off the coast, and it’s time to get out. The ride to the office is complete, and the real work begins.
In many ways, nothing has changed. The stress of raising nine-month-old twins, starting a company, and now dealing with the backdrop of the coronavirus pandemic, is every bit as uncomfortable as what I felt in the back of the SDV (SEAL Delivery Vehicle). Stress on a worldwide scale without a particular end date in sight is unprecedented for those of us alive today. What happens next week, or the week after, or even two months from now is anyone’s guess. Navigating this challenge is going to require a special mindset.
Navy SEALs have this mindset, but they aren’t born with it. In fact, a largely unknown paradox of SEAL training is that often the biggest, fastest, and strongest candidates are the first to quit. Similarly, it is not physical prowess or natural ability that will get you through this challenge. Rather, it’s a set of principles, leveraged by SEALs and available to all, that will help you not only survive but thrive in the weeks and months, perhaps even years, ahead.
My circumstances have changed, but the principles I use to navigate them have not. None of us want to be in the situation we are in now, but we can all apply these principles to thrive.
They work.
These principles are not just military wisdom; they’re backed by contemporary neuroscience.

1. When you feel overwhelmed, move the finish line

Being overwhelmed is the consequence of trying to juggle too many mental operations at once, which makes it impossible to design or execute a good action plan. By reducing the set of operations, you relieve the load placed upon your frontal cortex (the region of your brain responsible for planning and action) and reduce the corresponding sense of panic. It isn’t about how much you do, but that you do something specific you are certain you can complete. The challenge that once seemed impossible becomes doable by engaging it piece by piece. The smaller the piece, the easier it is to accomplish and the faster your brain gets out of a state of overwhelm, restoring access to the brain circuits responsible for selecting and executing action plans generally.
This is what SEAL candidates do during “Hell Week,” when they are required to stay awake, cold and wet, for days on end. In its entirety, Hell Week is too much to process. However, those who shorten the week into manageable chunks of time find success. Sometimes this means just focusing on making it through the day, getting to the next meal, or even just lasting for five more minutes.
Focus on one thing you know you can accomplish in 10, or even 5, minutes rather than dwell on what you need to accomplish over the entire day. Even the potentially paralyzing situation of kids at home while you need to work, a spouse or parent who is experiencing anxiety, a loss of income, or any of the other difficulties that people are experiencing now, can be broken down. Whatever the case, attending to and crossing off one small challenge sets you up to define and take on the next.

2. When you feel powerless, take action

Powerlessness stems from a lack of perceived control. The molecule dopamine, famous for its role in our sense of pleasure, also enhances our energy levels and sense of possibility. Dopamine is released not just as a reward for a job well done, but also by positive anticipation of rewards and completion of goals. When you freeze, which is your default when you feel a loss of control in a given moment, it impedes dopamine release, which leads to an even greater sense of powerlessness. When you feel powerless, you must, instead, move forward. By taking action, you train your brain to repeatedly release dopamine, enhancing your energy levels and creating an outsized effect on your thinking, mood, and ultimate sense of what you can control.
When SEALs find themselves sensing a loss of control, they default to action, directing their attention toward something within their reach. It can be something little, such as triple-checking equipment before jumping from an aircraft at night or, as Admiral William McRaven (a former head of the Special Operations Command) recently recommended, when you’re stuck in the mud, start singing.
Reading the headlines is reason enough to feel powerless, let alone losing a job, being confined to a small apartment, having to work in what may be an unsafe environment, and the list right now goes on and on. To re-engage your internal reward system and regain your sense of possibility, take actions as simple as reading a book to your kids, making a cup of coffee, texting a friend, doing a load of laundry. Then look for the next action step. By doing so, you shift your mindset from one of powerlessness to one of resolve.

3. When you feel alone, support someone else

Feeling alone stems from the brain spending too much energy taking stock of our inner landscape. Supporting others rebalances the weight of attention we pay to our inner self to the outer world. It also activates hardwired, ancient brain circuits that release feel-good brain chemicals such as oxytocin and serotonin and prevents the release of chemicals that impair immunity and promote fear.
The more stressful the environment, the more SEALs focus on the needs of their team and teammates. Whether they’re cramming into a mini-submarine, carrying a telephone-pole-sized log, or dealing with the death of a teammate, they focus on meeting the needs of others to make the group more effective and reduce the perceived sense of stress any single teammate feels.
Between those who live alone and those who feel alone while social distancing is in effect, we face a time of extreme isolation. From a neurological perspective reaching out to someone in need, whether by phone, text, old-fashioned written mail, or even baking cookies and leaving them at a neighbor’s door, has the same effect as pulling up a flagging teammate. Helping others doesn’t just forge psychological bonds; it forges chemical ones as well. Those chemicals positively change our brain’s assessment of self and our place in the world.
The reality is that this situation is going to get harder before it gets easier. The principles you lean on now and in the period of time to come can make a tremendous difference in how you experience and emerge from all this. Know that you already have everything you need to be successful. In fact, you’re designed to handle moments such as this, no supplements or expensive gadgets required.
Our advice: Move the finish line, take action, and serve others. This is how you will come through this time a better, more resilient you and bring about a better, more resilient world in the process.

Andrew Huberman is a professor of neurobiology at Stanford University School of Medicine, and Pat Dossett is a former Navy SEAL and cofounder and CEO of Madefor.

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Monday, March 23, 2020

Housebound and Yosemite Redux

Tunnel View - still spectacular! Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee
This is day seven of shelter-in-place for us Californians. Plenty of time to reflect and remember, in between the times we emerge from our hovels blinking at the light. I'm recalling a recent trip to Yosemite my daughter organized - and the new realities of global warming. The park is now closed to visitors, by the way. We drove down to the southern entrance, Oakhurst; a first, since I've always come from the north end before. The fields in the valley were white with almond blossoms under an iron-gray sky. The drive from Sacramento was easy and brief (I can't say the same for an episode of minor food poisoning at an unnamed diner along the way).
Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee

Ah, Yosemite in mid-February - we expected snow (the south entrance is closer to Badger Pass, the ski area) with the appropriate bundling and booting; what we got was dry and warm - an average of 60 degrees. Snow was actually being brought in to nearly-deserted Badger Pass. We found one trail with a little rapidly melting snow on it and took a short hike the first day.

Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee
Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee

We had hoped to take the Mariposa Grove trail to see the redwoods, but the parking lot and trails were closed. Nikki booked us a couple of nights at a place called the Narrow Gauge Inn, right next to a little steam train attraction called the Sugar Pine Railroad in Fish Camp (18 miles north of Oakhurst, and a good hour south of Yosemite Valley). The railroad was closed, of course, until May, as was the restaurant and bar at the Inn. In fact, many of the roads surrounding Yosemite and other attractions were closed until May, including the Wawona Hotel, her first choice. Nearby Tenaya Lodge was open at the time, however.

Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee
Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee
Nik's favorite chair at the Ahwanee
On the way north to the park, we stopped in at the tiny Fish Camp General Store on the west side of Hwy. 41, hoping to score some lunch; tt looked to be built out of an old railroad car. The charming young man who ran the place was not expecting a lot of business, judging from the sparse shelves and dust on some of the packaging.
The park itself was open, and crowded as usual, but dry as a bone. We had dinner at the cafe in the Ahwanee. The hotel is as grand and historic as ever, overpriced and not terribly crowded. As we took in the sights, there was some water coming over the falls; we drove on the circle road, taking in most of what we've seen on our last trip several years ago, and returning to the Inn at night.

The next day, we decided to go south from the Inn, into the Sierra National Forest toward Oakhurst. We had a hankering to wander around a cute little gold rush town; alas, we drove around Oakhurst in vain; it's a commercial center. We drove up to the village of Ahwanee, expecting, perhaps, a little more history. But there was no there there. What we did find was The Hitching Post (Hwy. 49, Ahwannee - on the west side of the road, you can't miss it), a funky restaurant with incredible food and equally incredible prices. I had the fish and chips (risky ordering fish inland, no kidding - living dangerously) for $14, and it was the BEST, hands down, that I've had in a couple years. Real fish, really breaded there, really made there, and huge portions. My daughter had a sandwich that was equally amazing. This is the sort of place that only locals know; when I complimented the woman behind the cash register (it definitely seemed family owned), she seemed surprised and said, "y'all come back!". I would airlift this place to Marin if I could.

On the way back from Oakhurst, we drove out Rtes. 222 and 224 to Bass Lake. Many of the people who settled around the west end of the lake had some bucks. We saw a fairly ordinary-looking property that turned out to be a 3-bedroom with a boat berth for over $1.5 million (reduced!). It might have been worth it at some point, but the lake was so low all the wooden walkways to the boat berths were sitting on dirt. No snow = no water in the lake. Bass Lake is a man-made reservoir; we drove up to the dam and took a walk on the gravel path. There were a few shops and a fancy restaurant (Ducey's) in the strip of buildings that made up the town, but most places were deserted on this sunny, dry day.
Edge of Bass Lake. Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee

On the way back, we stopped at a place recommended by the Inn: Corlieu Falls, about two miles south of the Inn, 16 or so miles north of Oakhurst. It's a short, steep hike rewarded with a series of full, beautiful waterfalls; a reminder that there are plenty of places outside Yosemite that are worthwhile. If we had known about the Scenic Byway (Skyranch Road off Hwy. 41, to St. Rte. 7 to Rte. 81, then Road 225 to 274 past Bass Lake) at the time, we might have taken it, especially since it passed Nelder Grove, another stand of giant sequoias. It's a three-hour drive at least, so a real time commitment (mostly in the car).
Corlieu Falls. Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee

On the way home, we both concluded that we've seen enough of Yosemite. It's become nature's Disneyland. The sad part is, since our last visit in 2015, the weather has warmed up even more. Very little snow then, but it at least was cold(er). Since the Sierras supply most of California's water, this is very bad news indeed.
Image courtesy of Adriayn Smith-Lee

Monday, March 2, 2020

Say What? - Fun with Phrase Origins

The look says it all--taken in Jaipur, during my India trip
Most of my posts are about places, but many of you know that I also write fiction, and travel fuels my fiction.  I'll occasionally drop in a few writing/reading tidbits for fun. I did a lot of word origin research for my novel "Shaketown", set in the early 1900s. Here are a few items of note:
These phrase origins came off the Internet, so take them with a grain of salt ...If these aren't authentic, there are some very creative liars out there (but you knew that). Please forgive the lack of paragraphs and use of emoticons instead of space - blogspot went wonky on me today.                                                                                  They used to use urine to tan animal skins [and set dye], so families had to all pee in a pot. Once a day it was taken and sold to the tannery. This is still happening in India, as I found out firsthand; see above for the look that says it all and on earlier posts of this blog from India. If you had to do this to survive, you were ‘piss poor.’ But worse than that were the really poor folks who couldn’t  even afford to buy a pot. They ‘didn’t have a pot to piss in’ and were considered the lowest of the low.  💓 Most people got married in June because they took baths once a month or less; if bath day happened to be in May, they still smelled pretty good by June. However, since they were starting to smell, brides carried  a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom of carrying a bouquet when getting married.  💧Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of nice clean water to bathe in, followed by the other males, then the women, and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, ‘Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water!' (I sincerely doubt this one, since the phrase means "don't throw out the good with the bad").  🏠 Houses had thatched roofs with thick straw-piled high and no wood underneath [obviously erroneous]. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained, it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’ 🐀There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That’s how canopy beds came into existence. [I am not so sure about this one, since canopies and curtained beds were necessary for warmth well before the middle ages].  🚪The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the term, ‘dirt poor.’ The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entrance-way. Hence, ‘a thresh hold.’  🍴In those days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day, they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, ‘Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.’ Not to be confused with peeing in the pot, above. 🐷 Sometimes they could obtain pork.  It was a sign of wealth that a man could ‘bring home the bacon.’ They would cut off a little to share with guests, and all would sit around and ‘chew the fat.'💀Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous. 🍞Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the ‘upper crust.' 🍺Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a ‘wake.’” 👻In old, small villages, local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. 😱When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside [!!!!--I don't THINK so], and they realized they had been burying people alive [whoops]. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell.Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (‘the graveyard shift’) to listen for the bell. Thus, someone could be ‘saved by the bell,’ or was considered a ‘dead ringer.’