'cause You're So Smooth

Proud owner of her driver’s permit, Gloria has been driving us to CR every morning. So today we’re southbound on 101 in the fast lane past Herrick only until everyone in the slow lane decides whether or not to get a “Joe to Go” in Humboldt Hill. Bright red Chrysler mini-van swerving into the bike lane…and back….and forth….WTF? It’s kinda early for a DUI. As we pass, I screw on my best scowl, preparing to find someone on a cell or fumbling with a smoldering spliff….Nope, woman rubbing lotion into her hands….both hands OFF the wheel at 60 mph getting her mitts silky smooth. Keeee RYST woman! At least when she goes off road and is burned to a crisp she’ll have soft fingerprints to identify her body.

GONE FISHIN '

My last post got me thinking about fishing with my dad. First off, the guy on the jetty was wearing a ball cap; my dad had this straw affair, with hooks stuck in the band. That was HIS fishing hat. I dug out this picture which always makes me smile. It is my big sister, Carol and I at the wharf with Dad right about 1964. I'm not sure who took the picture. It may have been Mom since I'm about seven in the picture which would make Katie five and probably too young to take the shot. Maybe we asked a stranger to take the photo... Check out our string of ENORMOUS perch. And check out the fins on that car -- our 59 Fairlane NOT a 500. Even as a kid I knew the difference.

Goin' fishing with Dad meant I got to wear a ponytail. Mom didn't like the way the rubber bands tore at my hair and they didn't make the wrapped ones then. So, this was a big-girl operation of grand proportions in my mind. The picture also brings to mind a day on the wharf when we realized Dad's knotting skills were not what he thought them to be. He took Mom's red rubber bucket to the pier, tied a rope to it and lowered it into the murky depths to collect water for the legion of fish we would surely catch. I still remember hauling up the rope.....with no bucket. Dad was SO in trouble for losing that bucket.

SPARKLING IN THE SAND

This week I took a lunchtime walk on the beach to send birthday greetings to my dad and wish my parents a happy anniversary. Their ashes were scattered off Santa Cruz but I know the currents have carried them up here to enjoy our bay. After 45 years of marriage, I’m sure they’re still out there together. Someone’s dad, or maybe grandpa was fishing off the jetty, reminding me of my dad. He would take us fishing off the SC wharf or occasionally the cement ship in Aptos. But on his own, he would fish from the rocks or in the surf.

I’m missing both my folks these days, the smell of Dad’s pipe filled with Cherry-Blend tobacco, my Mom humming along with Tony Bennett in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. And from her, I got my love of "puttering" in the garden. They would have enjoyed watching the girls grow up. My mom would have made that “ssssssst” sound (accompanied by a very sharp inhale), with a death-grip on the dash as Gloria learns to drive but would have given her a big hug when they made it safely to their destination. Probably would have bought her an ice cream to boot. And Dad would have taken them fishing.

OH BLACK WATER KEEP ON ROLLIN'

Back at the pond at CR....black water, mossy snags and lichen....Oh yeah, another frog.

JEREMIAH WAS A BULLFROG

As a child, much time was spent around a creek in my neighborhood in Santa Cruz, collecting pollywogs to watch them as they grew legs and metamorphed into frogs. Those days have left me with a fascination for standing water....ponds, puddles, creeks, always on the lookout for frogs or newts. This week I was rewarded. Checking out a bit of the waterway that surrounds CR, a place where I've toted my camera hoping to capture the bright greens of moss, I checked the water and found HUNDREDS of tadpoles....the water truly teeming with them. Then, I found Mom...or was it Dad, keeping an eye on the young`uns.

HE WAS A HARD-HEADED MAN, HE WAS BRUTALLY HANDSOME...

I’m stepping outside my normal blog box to share a political new blog with y’all but it is of interest to anyone following the continuing saga of EPD. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m pro-cop (with a few exceptions). I’m well aware that many are anti-cop (with a few exceptions). Back in the day, before the birth of Queen Monica, I dispatched for Santa Cruz PD. I sent officers out on too many scary calls to not be aware of the sucky and thankless job they have. Like many, I do think our tax dollars could be spent on something besides C.A.M.P. but until the law is changed, the cops are forced to enforce. Anyway.....

As a tax payer in the City of Eureka, I was more that a little ticked that a City Council meeting was called with very little notice to extend the contract of the Chief. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled with the rousting of tweakers and the raids on crack houses. I’m also well aware that often shit must be stirred up in order to properly clean a waste receptacle. However, when police personnel put their very jobs on the line to publicly comment on the low moral in the department owing to the new Chief, I am shocked that the Council didn't see fit to at least consider the allegations even IF the ground forces are doing a great job at clearing up the trash.

I was doubly pissed at hearing Councilman Mike Jones who had determined that the claims by employees were “baseless”. When people are willing to risk their jobs to speak publicly, doesn't it deserve at least a look-see? Even if the claims appear to be without merit, isn't it worth at least a cursory look? To listen to those officers and staff THEN respond with a FIVE YEAR CONTRACT renewal, is shocking to me. Um, City Council? You couldn’t wait maybe a day? A week? Maybe go with a one-year contract until this mess can be sorted out?

To clarify, I don't know IF there is a basis for these complaints. I'm not even sure I care. I'm fairly certain, though, that even if this were the planning department or public works management that displayed such inner drama, someone would at least CONSIDER the issue for a nano-second.

LIKE A RUBBER BALL I COME BOUNCING BACK

Hope’s year-old puppy Vince found a new home for a week but, like a boomerang, he has returned to us from what seemed to be the perfect home -- a family with two kids, two other dogs and a big inviting yard. He loved his six-year-old human girl but then, he prefers girls. He got along okay with their dogs but he decided Mom's well-tended garden was pretty tantalizing. Maybe there were bugs or worms or gophers but, no matter, he dug. He also chewed up her hose but you can’t blame a dog for chewing up shoes when you give them old shoes to chew on. Hose-shaped toys just invite trouble to a young dog.

Unconditional love is all we ask for. The “full body wag” when you come home just can’t be replicated by the most enthusiastic spouse. In exchange, a dog just asks for the same…and time…maybe a yard to play in. It's so ironic that a co-worker just started a blog and she is one of those perfect dog owners that writes beautifully about the joy her dogs bring her.... *sigh*. We missed Vince when he was gone and we worried his new humans wouldn’t love him the same. Might raise a hand to him. Or make him sleep outside. We warned Hope ... tried to convince her that a dog required more time than she had to give but she was convinced she was up for the walking, the playing, making a dog the same priority as a child but a full and heavy load of college classes have proven to require more attention than Vince can give up. She’s been a good mommy and Vince is very well behaved. He was ringing a bell to go outside after the first week with her. Of course, he rings that bell right about the time she's buried in homework and he sneaks the cats’ food even if it’s up on a desk. He’s bored and is ready for training that she doesn’t have time to give him. It was a painful decision for her to find him a new home but he was a pound-puppy with an uncertain future a year ago. She saved him and fostered him through the difficult puppy stage. He’s ready.

Vince is home and content, maybe a little confused. And Hope is once-again looking for a good home for him. A dog person who loves the idea of a walk. The kind of “two legged people who love four-legged people”. Someone who is SURE they want a dog and are willing to give him the time he’ll need to adjust. Do you know anyone like that?