Nobody on the Road, Nobody on the Beach

I have the week off work but still had to make a trip to campus for a meeting. Afterwards, I decided to head out Hookton Road for a walk. The sand is finally warm again yet I had the beach entirely to myself. The low tide offered up a handful of goodies to please the beachcomber in me and I was intrigued by fragments of what were surely huge sand dollars that were too fragile to survive the tumble to shore. I would love to find one of those gems intact.
It turned out to be a perfect day for beach house hunting. I spied a couple real possibilities. First, this cozy little number - the perfect little hideway to cuddle up with your (really small) sweetie for an evening mai tai (or maybe Sex on the Beach?) The architect is unknown though obviously there was some Native American influence. Faced to appreciate the gentle southern breezes, this little number will be the perfect spot to enjoy the Humboldt sunsets.

This second diamond-in-the-rough is more spacious - perfect for the growing family. Taking its cue from Mother Nature, this little cottage takes full advantage of the flotsam and jetsam of the area, using both rope and chip bags for gingerbread. An outdoor fire pit makes it a natural for entertaining. Although faced due west, sand carried on the strong winds from that direction do add to the coastal decor of the room living area.

I will present these options to Mark and we'll check the budget for a vacation home. If not available for purchase, perhaps we'll just visit and share the sunset with the residents.

Pomp pomp pompomp pompompompompomp pomp

OK...so I don't know the lyrics to Pomp and Circumstance (are there lyrics?) but I know from experience that the bands are tired of playing after the HSU and CR graduations last weekend. It actually began Friday night with the "Matriculation" ceremony for Academy of the Redwoods. The members of the first graduating class received recognitions, scholarships were dealt and a class photo was taken prior to the RiverLodge being transformed for the Prom which Glo attended until the wee hours.

The morning dawned early and frantic, starting at Monica's 8:30 walk at HSU. We grabbed Nana, found a decent parking place and caught the shuttle to the Redwood Bowl, arriving in plenty of time. I tried frantically to get a good picture of my first-born receiving her Bachelor's in Journalism but, since many didn't comply with the two minute limit in the photo pit, and there was a genetic vertical impairment in play, I barely caught sight of her as she descended the steps. Caught her coming in though. Unfortunately, with all the speeches and commendations, we had to be the people who leave as soon as their children perform in order to make the 11:00 Commencement at CR. We left as politely as possible, hustling to the shuttle to return to our car to get on the freeway and blast south where we came into the CR gym with just moments to spare before the first strains of Pomp and Circumstance began. My flash was being uncooperative so I didn't get a good shot of Gloria in her cap but this group shot is most of what is being called the "First Edition"; these kids graduated with their two-year degrees from CR while simultaneously completing high school. I wish it had been noted in the program since it would be quite a feather in the cap of CR but the Academy of the Redwoods early-college high school was well represented. So, two out of our three girls received proof of their education in one day. When it next becomes Hope's turn, hopefully she will be the only one walking and the day can be more relaxed and she won't have to share the spotlight. We're awfully proud of these two smarties.

ALL I'VE GOT IS A PHOTOGRAPH

My brand new camera in hand, I headed out to photograph the world and the people who live in it. Me, working for National Geographic? Nope. Me, at five-years old with my brandy new Kodak Hawkeye that I'm pretty sure my mom ordered off the back of Nestle's Quik...we LOVED our premiums and always bought the cool stuff offered on boxes of cereal and such. I'm pretty sure she bought one each for my sister Katie and I. We had just moved on to a new cul-de-sac in Santa Cruz - Harkleroad Avenue - named after the Harkleroad family who had surely owned the property that was mowed down and developed. Needless to say, living on HarkleROAD Avenue caused much confusion over the years... It was 1962 and ours was the first on the block besides the Harkleroad house. The Tribble's house ended up on that lot you can see behind Mr. Telephone Man, right on the corner of Harkleroad and Rodriguez.

As you can see by the picture, it was a quality piece. I think a spool of film held twelve pictures. You turned a knob on the bottom to advance the film, watching carefully the little window to see the arrows until you reached the next number. Turn it too fast and you might miss the frame then your next photo would be lacking half of a memory.

As I ventured up the street, I came upon a telephone lineman. Future paparazzi as I was, I apparently charmed him into this coy pose. The albums are full of cheesy pictures I took over the years, plenty of them black and white with rippled edges, notes in back (or sometimes in the border) identifying the people or place. See how my feeble attempt at cursive identified my subject? I kept this picture in spite of having no idea who he is but I know it was my first photo. The one that got me hooked. I wonder if my mom had any idea of what she was doing when she ordered that camera. Do you remember your first camera? Did you ever order cool stuff from the back of boxes?

River Bar Rendezvous

Another first for me on the water, I joined with a couple dozen others for a paddle with the State Park Rangers on the Eel River. It was a fun group with a variety of vessels, from long aluminum canoes to short river kayaks. From wetsuits to shorts and sneakers. We put in at the rocky beach at Williams Grove on the Avenue and, after a group shot and a "kumbaya moment" (in racing, they call it a driver's meeting), headed out for what the Rangers Richard B. was sure would be the last chance for the season - water levels were dropping and we dragged our collective bottoms more than once.
We took out at Canoe Creek and climbed up to see the affects of the 2003 Canoe Fire. The area was showing signs of recovery, covered with bright greens of redwood sorrel and wild roses. Ranger Alan pointed out the distinct differences in damage done, the charring reaching much higher on trees that had been surrounded by slash left behind during timber harvest.
We continued on, working our way through the shallows and ripples and wind, lunching on the beach at Burlingame then (finally) pulled out where we had shuttled our cars, at Leatherville, just south of Dyerville. It was fun and exhausting and another notch in my belt. We are truly fortunate to live here, people. I love taking opportunities to see this county from a different angle.
My title is intended to taunt Eko back from the dark side......come on....we KNOW you're out there.

I Know That It's Time For A Cool Change

I laughed at my ugly lunch ensemble at work a while back so thought I would share it, in honor of Earth Day. You will see no frozen entrees. No prepackaged cheese and crackers. No plastic forks. I use this worn-out little tote that I got from the blood bank eons ago. There may have been some yummy leftovers (my kids would call that an oxymoron) or maybe one container had crackers and another, some cheese slices. It looks like a cut up orange in the salsa tub. Real fork and spoon.

I'm environmentally conscious but I'm even more cheap but that's not bad, is it? I carry home my apple core or orange peels to be composted or fed to the hens. The containers are things I can't avoid - yogurt, feta and ricotta cheeses, salsa....but no plastic trays wrapped in plastic wrap, packed in a box. I'm reusing the containers. And I know what I'm eating. It's ugly but like hemp shoes., it's the right thing to do. Reducing. Reusing. Nothing to recycle. Happy Mother's Day to Mother Earth. And enjoy this from April of 1990 when our Girl Scout troop in Minden, NV coordinated a neighborhood trash cleanup. That would be Miss Monica on the right.

Baby Come Back

So what am I to think here.....? Upon receiving word of the demise of Gottschalks, I contacted the credit department and closed my account. Even with a zero balance, I figured there was a potential for drama on my credit report that would be impossible to clear up for years to come. This week, I get a lovely letter expressing dismay that I have chosen to close my account.... Hello, you closed your whole damn store! Reading further, they offer me a discount for reconsidering. So, do you suppose the liquidators will honor the discount considering they won't even accept the card on sale items? I understand this is a bank not really affiliated with Gottschalks. In fact, I have a Bose account through the same bank and I have my eye on a sound system......do you suppose.....? Seriously, this mailing must have cost someone (who could ill afford it) a chunk of money.

Sometimes It's Roses, Sometimes It's Weeds

I was pleased to see artichokes "springing" to life in my garden in spite of my absence. As much as I love to get out and get dirt under my nails, lately I've been tasked with the taxes. I am no accountant and have always hated doing this though Turbo Tax generally gets me through the rough spots. Doing business taxes is a whole different ball game however and I have vowed never to do this again. I will find a CPA versed in the subtle nuances of vehicle repair and pay him whatever he wants to save me this pain again. It's keeping me out of my garden while the lemons are preparing to sacrifice their young for the sake of an alcoholic beverage.

The success of Mark's motorcycle shop is a good-news/bad-news thing in my book --more profit translates to more work to find the deductions I know are there (we're not livin' THAT large in this house so there must be deductions). And as good as he is at fixing bikes, my man is equally bad at organizing his record-keeping. He actually HAS the records, he just doesn't remember which bag, box or drawer they're in. It has become a regular thing over the last few weeks for me to present him with a post-it note list of items to locate so that I can enter them into the little boxes in hopes of bringing us closer to clear. Entering that initial "gross" amount in Turbo Tax incites an ugly number to appear in red in the "taxes owed" box on the top. Although I knew the number would go down as I progressed, it still yelled at me in a frightfully ugly red tone, taunting me, invoking the curse of the IRS.

Sure enough, I have managed to bring it down to a very quiet green color, indicating a refund, though marginal. After all that red, ANY green is good....which brings me back to the garden. I have earned it. I will grab a snack then head out with a tub to fill with weeds and bugs for the hens. After all, it is they who laid the Easter eggs.