More October Days and Nights

October 14

We are still figuring out what Halloween will be in a year when we can't gather as we have before, when passing things between people is not ideal. One thing we have settled is bringing decorations and cheer outside, out front, where we can share it as much as possible with neighbors and friends. William brought out Pumpkin Head, the jolly scarecrow he made last year. And my order of remote controlled candle sticks arrived. Besides our lit Jack-o-Lantern friend, and floating candles, we are working on something really big, and keeping it under wraps has not be easy for me. It's kind of purrfect, and hopefully we can get passed the challenges that have been arising. In the meantime, we've created a magical atmosphere, with lights and blithesome touches.

This is the Before shot. All the debating about what to do with the kitchen is settled. We are having Mike paint the walls. Now that I've taken everything down, and prepared for paint, I can see how very badly these walls need paint. We've been here 11 years, and this kitchen hasn't seen fresh paint since it was built, which was at least 10 years before we moved in. Anyway, this relieves my consumer guilt, and I no longer feel indulgent and decadent. My mood is more well, it's about flippin' time!

We moved some kitchen operations outside, so we could still eat, and maintain social distancing. Mike masked up and stayed in the sealed off kitchen, and we kept outside, or out of the way of the kitchen and painting. Only one disaster ensued: We forgot to turn off the sprinklers. Maria and I were seated at the picnic table, surveying our clever set up, when the automatic sprinklers went full blast, super soaking us and our temporary kitchen. Oh, and Geoff was away, and the on/off for the app is on his phone. We laughed a lot about this.

It took me much longer to get the kitchen ready for painting than it took Mike to paint it! Rather than experiment with colors we settled on two things... 1. Something complimentary to the red of the cupboards, so blue. 2. We know and love Arrowhead Blue, just like the outside of the house. It's a big change from palest green, which is just what I needed. And we love it. It's surprising, but we find it both energizing and soothing. And we love how boldly it frames art, and furnishings. William and I have been diligently, mindfully, putting things back on the walls. I always laugh at myself for thinking that I need to record how everything was before, believing I will do things just as they were. We've changed many things, though, and that's been good, too.

October 15

Have I mentioned the coffee table book William and I are going to have published? It will be entirely comprised of photographs of Feynman asleep on chairs. In chairs. He sleeps in them, sunk in, melded, luxuriant, blissful. The Physics of Sleep, by RP Feynman Cat, A study of the feline in recline.

It's been hotter than summer. I planted the annuals, in the one section of the new garden where I am giving way to flowers and seasonal color. The California native plants I will put in the ground as soon as the heatwave breaks. I brought home manzanita, sage, and ceanothus. I have to own, it makes me feel virtuous and pleased as can be to have this chance... for one thing, I love manzanita, sage, and ceanothus. Those three plants bring me to the local foothills and coastal ranges of California. If I could add a redwood, I would. And if I am successful, if they take to their new home, then we can hope to see more birds, and the plants won't need irrigation, nor fussing over. I love the red bark of manzanita, the tiny bell flowers. I love the smell of sage, its properties and sentiment, the memories it recalls. And ceanothus, in bloom, is a balm for all the senses, and heart. Happily, the nursery was well stocked in annuals and native plants. And now we have pansies, snapdragons, scabiosa, and salvia all tucked in and looking pretty.

October screenings have included, Arsenic and Old Lace, Over the Garden Wall, The Wizard of Oz, and True Stories.

Tia Thalia's paintings made the cut, of course, and are back on the walls. Her still life is always especially appropriate this time of year, with a traditional pan de muertos, and the calénduas.

Bambi, Alex, Max, and Maria, October 17.
It hasn't been too difficult for us to stay home, and possibly we have taken it a bit too much to heart. We finally determined to visit a beach, and couldn't. Our beaches are packed! Close to home it was overcast, even foggy, and yet I have never seen the beaches as full as they were this day. We were astonished. Geoff just kept moving south, until we were all the way to the Glider Port, and even there we had to go clear to the north end of the unpaved lots before we could find space to park. Here we got above the low clouds and fog, we could see clear to La Jolla Cove, over the Scripps pier. Hang gliders were drfting leisurely in the sky. Maybe on a weekday, in the morning, we might have better luck getting on a beach, to the shore. We'll try, again.

We are fortunate to feel close to nature, and open spaces, close to home.

October Nights and Days

Normally I go to great pains to get every photograph in order, by date. These are a jumble. But the compulsion is strong, for order, so... I will say that these are days and nights from early October, Bambi's birthday, up until the 9th or 10th. It's hard to keep it straight. I am learning an entirely new way of posting photos, which is both more difficult, but also easy. Different is not always easy, even if it might turn out for the better. And! Please, recall that the updated Blogger does not help me with autocorrect. I'm sorry. I feel as though I am posting about small things, quibbling with myself. Maybe it's only small things I can manage to notice. Big things are too plentiful, too consequential. Does everyone, anyone, feel thin, fatigued?

Here are many moments to remind me that we have danced by moonlight, lit fires, put out fires, voted, celebrated, cleaned, and made messes. The hens are laying rainbows, the cats are making peace. We have paints, and threads, hammers, seeds, and pots to cook in. Here are good things, and hopes. Next year, I hope to read this post and almost cringe... cringe to recall how scared and sad I felt about the state of the world, politics, a pandemic, apathy, malice. I hope I can laugh, and say, Wasn't I silly to worry? Weren't we happy, and safe, and now we are safe, and happy, and sharing more, caring more? Things are not so bad as we feared.

October 13, when the Moon danced with Venus, before the sun rose.

Deck and Wall

Maybe this is the post where I finally share the whole project, the deck and wall, and more. "More" is the kitchen. I have been staring at this kitchen a lot this year, and it was with sheepish guilt that I finally railed: "Gah! I can't take it anymore! I do not want to look at this kitchen any more!" It began with the compulsion to tear it all out, to gut it. And, objectively, it's a nice kitchen, but COVID madness took hold and something had to be done. We talked about painting the cabinets. We talked about replacing the counters. We talked about building a wizard tower, and digging a basement. We talked about turning the RV into a pontoon, towing our cars and our friends' cars, and landing on New Zealand's shores. So, while Mike plugged away at building the retaining wall, adding stairs, surveying the slope, and framing for a deck... inside I was thinking of options, quick fixes to help me make peace with cooking and cleaning every single day in this same, lovely, room.

The footings for the deck, by the way, are standing on the slope, and the weight of the deck is what we are counting on to hold it in place. The reasoning for this choice was to minimize digging and cutting the roots of the Torrey Pines. The tall posts will serve two purposes... 1. to string lights from, and 2. to hold copper pipes, which will further strengthen the framing and keep it from pulling into itself. We put in a French drain at the back of the wall, installed electric boxes, and added a hose bib. We also capped the irrigation. By watering the non-native plants around the trees, we have been encouraging the trees to grow surface roots, which weaken the trees. We will plant native plants that grow with our rainfall, and the Torrey Pines will root deeper... I say this with the confidence of a researcher, and the hope that evidence and reason prove accurate in practice! Fingers crossed.

I think all technical subjects should be presented with pictures of cats. Here is Cairo. He's trying to look casual, and disinterested, because he's actually plotting his dash out the front door. The more casual and indifferent he looks, the more likely he is to get out.

Ada and Tasha like to escape, too, but their tactics are open, forthright... go, move, push. And if that doesn't work, they butt heads and change the subject.

Diana, and Charles brought Akira for a movie night. We almost, almost, dismantled and tossed that screen. It was made for outdoors, then came inside for many years, and it got kind of junky, but we decided to save it in the attic, and thank goodness we did. We have had more movie nights since March, then in the last 11 years of hosting movie nights. It's been 19! Nineteen socially distanced, bring your own chairs and snacks, Bird House Driveway Theater events! We have fire rings, and we have had singalongs. We've screened talent shows and personalized videos. And we get to laugh and chat with friends. Even in the dark, ten or more feet apart... we have come to love and appreciate every single gathering. We love our friends. We love having a means to be togther, safely, happily.

The stairs might be my favorite part. I love the entire project. It's practically complete, now, so I can safely say, I am familiar with all of its features, and I love them! But the stairs look so cool! Also, have I mentioned it's two decks we designed? I will give credit to Armand for this addition. He was the one that pointed out that terracing would add to the theater experience, creating balcony seating. That was an irresistible suggestion, and Mike constructed this mini-deck above the wall. It's just the right size for a family to sit together for a movie night.

On Instagram I subjected everyone to lots of fall leaf pictures, and I also shared how every picture was from carefully framed views of this one tree that for the first time ever was being truly beautiful. But the framing was critical, because the background includes power poles, and phone lines, a chain-link fence, very dirty cars, a construction heap and mulch pile, an open trench! And then! Then the whole tree went dry and brown in the heat wave we had. 90 degrees F, in October. Ugh. Poor tree. Poor us. Poor planet.

All mention of climate change and global warming should include pictures of cats and fruit from the garden. Here is Feynman, and a pomegranate... which happens to be a low water fruit tree, that just this year is giving us our first delicious fruit. And Feynman, well, he's demonstrating how to self-care during a pandemic. Inhale. Exhale. Nap. Repeat.

Almost to completion... so close! I am going outside to take some more pictures. Oh! And the kitchen. I decided painting the cabinets was a bit rash, and so we are painting the walls. And on closer inspection, my impulse isn't indulgent or extravagant... but long overdue!