I did it

I wrote some stupid little thing every day this month. I'm sure it was as enlightening for you as it has been for me. I learned that I shouldn't. And betting that you agree.

how not to get sympathy

Me: "I have a day from hell in front of me."

You: "Wow. Sorry to hear that. What's up?"

Me: "Well, I have to go for my massage 15 minutes early, and then spend the afternoon putting together training materials for the upcoming class."

You stopped listening after the word massage, didn't you.

strange messages

I had just returned home from a work party with Master Gardeners when I received a strange phone call. It seemed to be Mrs. Pandammy, but it was hard to tell. The voice was cutting in and out. She seemed agitated. I heard "paraplegic" and "he fell."

When I said, "Where are you? Who are we talking about?" her phone cut out. I called her back at home (busy, which often happens when they leave their phone off the hook and the battery runs down) and on her cell phone (which she had used to call me) to no avail. And I called again home (no answer) and cell (straight to voicemail).

What the hell. I put on my coat and walked over there. They were both home, looking dazed. Crying. A dear, long-time friend (whom I have met) was found late a few nights in the middle of the road, paralyzed. He had been taking out his garbage. No reliable information, no crucial phone numbers to call, and no answer at the VA hospital room where he supposedly was being treated.

We hugged and sniffled together for a while and their phone rang again. Mrs. P and I went into a side room to chat. I told her I could make her laugh, and recounted a story I'd just heard from my little sister. It distracted her and she did indeed laugh. At the expense of one of my brothers-in-law, but oh well, the guy deserves it.

Anyway I'm glad I went over there. I was a little freaked out with the little bit I heard on the cell phone conversation and was glad to find them both safe and sound.

In the meantime Mr. P is making plans to head to Palo Alto. I hope he can go soon, and get the information first-hand, and be a comfort to his dear, good friend.

actual conversation

So I'm at the grocery store. The biggest and nicest one in Pete.

Among my purchases, I have a small bag of Bugles. We like them every now and then. Sometimes we crave crunchy foods.

My all-time favorite checker and manager, Paula M., who knows I have a sweet-salty thing, says, "Omigosh. Have you tried these with caramel?"

Me: "What did I ever do to you?"

She: "No no no! They're wonderful! They sell them at the Pennysaver. In the small bags. I had three today. You should try them! Okay, that'll be $34.27 please."

Me: "No. You were mean to me."

Stupid me. I wrote the check anyway. Yeah, a check! Take that, Slabby!

the earth moved

Yep. Monday night. 4.0. I think I've slept through a bigger one outside of LA.

journalism ain't my thang

Cheezus Herbert Keyrist on a splintery crutch ($.25 to JrzyTmata), that press release just took a week off my life. And now I'm probably going to miss the deadline because I can't get one very important fact verified: is that mailing address correct? Oh well. One down, one to go.

Also: I am officially old. I fell asleep in the La-Z-Boy last night. Woke up at 3:45. hobbitt had covered me with a quilt. What a sweetie.

gloom

Today was the dreariest and darkest day of the rainy season so far. I thought this first thing, as I was sitting on the commode. I looked up into the skylight just in time for a flight of little birds to go hurtling by in the wind. And I actually jumped a little in my seat.

Yes, it has been dark and dreary all day long. And now, as it becomes evening, it's not all that much or a change, except for the increased winds.

The weather during last night's walk (under a waning gibbous moon) was crisp and still.

Tonight it's likely to be a bit more exciting, with rain, even.

The press releases still aren't written.

The laundry is yet to be finished.

FYI.

all good things must come to an end

Sunday. All those Saturdays were nice, but, oh well.

Too much sun today! It's has been absolutely beautiful. Well, what I've been awake for. I got up at the crack of noon again. And felt like I'd been drugged.

Perhaps I should ask hobbitt about that, eh?

Press releases aren't written.

Laundry? 1/2 done. I never put it away last time I did it. Still rifling through the basket for socks and shirts.

My desk? Don't ask. And I'm a bit behind on setting up bill payments, too. Not late on the payments, just late getting it all entered and reconciled in Quicken.

Other than laundry and dog walking, we did get one chore done today: the potted plants on the porch. I killed two of them this summer - a lovely euphorbia and, well, there wasn't enough left of the other plant for me to remember what it was. But I finally pulled the remains out of the pots. The leucothoe and pieris are moved, in their pots, out front where the winter rains will do a better job than I ever have with them.

I may be a Master Gardener by designation, but in reality, the word Neglectful should be up front first.

Maybe Monday will bring some motivation. Hey, a girl can dream.

third saturday

This is our third Saturday in a row. Very nice. Very nice indeed.

The first two were crisp and relentlessly sunny. Today? Not so much with the sun. In fact, it's as dark as it would be 90 minutes from now. There's something comforting and charming about days like this. And it's good that I enjoy them, since we get a lot of them up here in Pete.

This morning I had to get up early to care for the neighbors' dogs. The Pandammys were stuck in Seattle last night unexpectedly. Since I'd crated up the dogs at 9:30 p.m. or so, I thought they should be up by nine. Which as many of you know, isn't a time of day I like to be awake. But hobbitt got me up and I got those dogs out, fed and watered by 9:15 a.m. Then I came back home and slipped back between the sheets for a nice snooze with Zach.

We've barely spoken a dozen words to each other here today, even while we shared a lunch of tomato bisque soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. And while we catalog-shopped and got about 80% of our holiday gift-buying done.

We're an inherently lazy race here at the labs. Our only outing today is likely to be our upcoming walk on the beach. I should be writing press releases, but I like to tell myself I work well under pressure, and gosh, I have until Tuesday. I think.

what makes a good day

1) the phone ringing late in the morning, and hearing the voice on the machine say, "You're probably still in bed...." which gives me the liberty to stay in bed.

2) finally getting up at the crack of noon.

3) excellent coffee and no agenda.

4) a doggie extravaganza at the beach.

5) watching a huge ship get docked at the Indian Island Naval Station, with 2 tugs, and 2 Coast Guard cutters on patrol.

6) abundant sunshine.

7) a full moon for our evening walk.

8) a busy downtown Pete in spite of no ferries.

9) leftovers in spite of an easy cooking day yesterday.

10) the prospect of another long winter's nap, and waking to more frost

laci, stacy

Is it just me, or does it seem as though if your first name rhymes with Macy and your last name is Peterson, that your husband is (allegedly) going to do something very, very bad to you?

turkey, maybe

Ah, the bliss of an obligation- and company-free day! hobbitt got up early to bake muffins which we took to the Pandammys so that we could meet Mrs. P's son and girlfriend, who failed to awaken during the ninety minutes we visited.

And now we're moseying through our day like it's any other (weekend) day. The dogs haven't been walked. The table, which we may eat on later, looks like someone backed up a dumpster and just let loose. Nothing is even remotely prepared, though if I may confess, this isn't exactly a pure scratch meal that's going to happen. Eventually. Maybe. Whatever.

No stress. The sun is shining (there's not a cloud in the sky) and it's crisp out there. Heavy frost this morning. Makes me want to lie down for a nap, and that's probably not a good idea.

So anyway, I'm grateful for this day, our health, our home and our pets, our good fortune, our friends and our families. I'm grateful to have a wonderful partner in my life, and nice neighbors, and food on the table. (Eventually. Maybe. Whatever.) I'm grateful to love and be loved. It's a Good Thing.

Happy Thanksgiving!

honda, dane, bubble

This is an older Honda Civic with a bubble cut into its roof to accommodate the Great Dane's monstrous head. Another reason that I love living here.

we're so screwed

From the Port Townsend Leader:

Ferry service has long been part of Port Townsend's waterfront identity. But that historic connection has been severed because Washington State Ferries needs emergency inspections of the old class of ferries that serve the Port Townsend-Keystone route. If these 80-year old vessels are deemed to be no longer seaworthy, State Ferries warns that Port Townsend could be without vehicle ferry service for several years.

These ferries are old. There have been, shall we say, problems in getting bids for building new ones. There are some folks who rely on these ferries for commuting to Whidbey Island, but this entire town relies on them for tourism.

This could be bad.

cheezits! and brussels sprouts

This blogging-every-day crap is as troubling as it looks. I've tried to blog by the Talking Heads rule: When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed. Anyway, thank you for reading even when I have nothing to say. Next month, I'll do better.

I'll do better next month because I won't have been in a friendly and snarky non-competition with my Excellent Friend Alison, who signed up for NaBloPoMo, otherwise known as an obligation from hell. I didn't sign up for this insanity, but I do everything that Ali does.

So. Do I have anything to say today? Lemme think...

We had tentative dinner plans with a couple who are moving to the San Diego area next month. It was to be last night or tonight. By noon today (when I awoke, ahem) I still hadn't heard, so I figured they were up to their eyeballs in packing and working on the house. Jeannie called just a while ago to cancel, saying she was sick. I said, "No worries. When I hadn't heard from you I figured the plans were off." She was shocked. Evidently she'd sent an email saying Tuesday would work best. I never got it. Checked all the folders in Eudora. Nuttin'.

That would have been interesting when they showed up tonight, huh. I couldn't have slapped just anything together. She's vegetarian, and he's vegan.

I cooked a ribeye roast last night for the first time. All the recipes I found were for boneless, and this one wasn't. Yes, I used the thermopen. Yes, it came out of the oven at the proper temperature for medium rare. And holy hell, it was practically mooing. And ever so tasty....

And with that began my yearly wintertime Brussels sprouts orgy. Oh. My. God. They are just so freakin' good. I try to limit myself to two or three nights a week. So what? It's not like they're bad for me.

Still don't know what we're going to have to T-day dinner. Except that we're not having a turkey, and I'm feeling lazy. Should be interesting. I'll keep you posted.

disappointment and hurt

One of the friends I love the most has just suffered a big hurt because of a decision one of her loved ones has made. I cry to think of how much she is hurting right now. And something she said got me to pondering about relationships.

There's a huge spectrum of reactions to the world. I know, duh. But I started to think about who in the world has hurt me. I guess I could go back and think of some stupid boyfriends from my youth, but that doesn't seem to fit the bill. I could say that some of my late ex-friend Susan's actions or my ex-friend Janice's actions were hurtful, but from this perspective, it just seems that we were on different wavelengths. Susan wanted more attention than I could have given her at the point, and Janice was struggling with immense changes in her own life, and projected that all on me with the "I don't know who you are anymore and I don't think we can be friends" line. My response was "Okay. Whatever. I gotta go." After hearing something like that I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of my tears or of hearing any of her rationale.

Oh, yes, I was devastated at the time. And Susan's reasons for pushing me out of her life were valid, I guess, and though I could have trotted out a long list of slights she perpetrated upon me, I never looked at those things that way. I've never enjoyed carrying a grudge.

If I wanted to, I could believe that I'm hurt that my dearest friend in all the world, Linduh, won't come visit me here. I know travel is difficult for her and being away from home is a big stressor. Yet she's going to Germany next month. Her brother is there for an extended stay. So I think I understand something of that trip. I don't understand why she thinks Pete is the ends of the earth.

But my feelings are more in the range of confusion and disappointment, mixed in with a lot of love and hope. Maybe I just don't hold on to people as tightly as others. Maybe having expectations thrust upon me most of my young life has made me averse to doing that to someone else. Maybe I'm mis-wired for normal feelings. Maybe I do experience hurt but don't hang on to it. I don't know.

Anyway, if it is indeed human to err, then relationships are simply going to hit the catastrophic end of the scale from time to time. It sucks. It's confusing. But usually, nobody dies. Usually.

I just want to take a gentle, meandering path through life. I want to invite people in, and let them go when they need to. I want to let go of expectations.

I have a lot of work to do, then, huh.

for my boy

Happy First Birthday Zachary! Thanks for the joy you've brought into our lives.

Love,

bhd, hobbitt, Inti and Mollie

sweet little Inti

My sweet old doggie isn't feeling well. She doesn't seem to want to move around very much, and was pretty lame in her left foreleg on Thursday. I canceled some appointments and brought her back to the vet yesterday. They x-rayed her shoulders, hips and abdomen. Everything looks great. To get the x-rays, she was sedated, which made her a loopy and confused creature for the remainder of the day.

This morning she seems stiff and reluctant to move. She's on anti-inflammatory medication for arthritis and now she's taking something for pain. She'll get up to bark at a noise, and I can see that her movement is better (no limping on the foreleg), but she's just sitting down wherever she happens to be, rather than going to her favorite places (under the dining room table, by my feet under the desk).

She and Zach were to go to the kennel this afternoon, as hobbitt and I are going to Kirkland with friends for an Uncle Bonsai show. With the ferry, and then dinner, and then another ferry, it'll probably be midnight before we get home, and we need to leave at 4. So I just canceled her reservation. She can be alone for up to 10 hours, and she'll be much more comfortable here, poor baby. I'll ask Mrs. P to come look in on her if she can.

Inti just showed up in our neighborhood in Illinois in August of 1998. She was at least a year old, and probably not much more. That puts her in the neighborhood of 10 years old. For the most part she's been a healthy pup, except for that bout with Lyme disease in the fall of 2002. We've been lucky together, that's for sure.

The vet thinks it's possible that this lameness is a result of us backing off on her Rimadyl, the anti-inflammatory medicine. We had switched her to a half dose at the vet's suggestion on Thursday, and it was that afternoon that she had trouble with the foreleg. I'm hoping that's the case.

peanut butter

I swear to almighty GOT I can enjoy english muffins or toast with chunky peanut butter under just about any circumstances.

This is not a good thing.

Send the mounties. Please.

In other news, the labs is limping into some sort of geriatric twilight. I know we all die. Many of us sooner than others. I think that knowledge is the basis of the most immediate part of my emotional sickness. I turned everything off in the spring of 2002, and haven't figured out how to turn it back on.

Yeah. Moving to New Joy Sea was more traumatic than I'm willing to admit. I, we, did this willingly. But I'm remembering a party one of my loved co-workers threw for me, in which she invited my dearest friends (who were not friends of hers) and no one else. I was shell-shocked by it all, unable to appreciate the love she and the other women were showing for me.

I didn't want to be leaving. I didn't want my closest friends to know how much I felt that way. I didn't want to let myself know how much I felt that way.

I turned it all off, in the spring of 2002. Someone show me the switch, please. I'm ready to be whole again.

sick bay

Inti's limping tonight. No idea why. Front left leg. We cut her back to 1/2 dose of Rimadyl, but I really don't think that's the problem. She was just at the vet yesterday.

Mollie is doing okay. Pooping about every third day. We still need to schedule surgery for her to get those pesky bladder stones out before they block her up.

hobbitt may or may not still have his kidney stone, and now his skin is starting to go south.

I wrenched my back cleaning the shower door the other day. Massage helped it a bit, but it's still quite sore.

It's all up to Zach now, to hold down the fort on his own.

We're screwed.

remorse

I love my new car. Truly. It's platonic, but it is unnatural, and there you have it.

There's a difference between buyer's remorse and spender's remorse, though, and I have a decent dose of the latter.

No surprise there.

it's full of stars

We took our walk last night under the broad swath of Milky Way. The sky was crystal clear, and there was no moon to be seen. We have been experimenting with different flashlights, and I was using a headlamp, while hobbitt carried a compact flourescent lantern. We quickly discovered that the lantern didn't throw enough light to help us much on the path, and it caused a major amount of light pollution around us. The headlamp, on the other hand, was pretty useful - it lighted the way before me, and when I looked up into the sky (to say I do that frequently on clear nights doesn't describe it acurately) it didn't obscure the view. Still, my glasses caught some of the light, making it a bit annoying from time to time.

Flashlights are still the preferred tool. But having hands free for picking up after the pups, giving them treats, and putting gloves on and off for said activities is a big bonus, too. We'll keep working at it until we get it right.

Zach had on the wide reflective collar; Inti's is slimmer and immediately disappeared under her fur. We switched the collars halfway through the walk, and the wider collar on her works better to help us keep an eye on where she is.

At the end of summer I was saddened to think that our sunset walks would be coming to an end, but there is something truly magnificent about taking this walk in the dark. And I'm sure I'll keep thinking this until the first windy, icy-rain walk we take at night. Right?

In other news, hobbitt had a mole cut out of his arm last week. The good news is that it's not melanoma. The bad news is that it also isn't normal, so the surgeon will have to go back and take a bigger slice out of hobbitt's forearm. Poor baby! But there you have it. We're aging, and our warranties have long ago expired. Take care of your skin!

huff and puff

So, we had some wind. Yep. hobbitt and I woke from time to time as something crashed onto or against the side of the house, mumbled "That'll leave a mark" and fell back to sleep. And it rained heavily too. The sun is shining at the moment, but the wind is still howling and clouds all around look a bit threatening. I wouldn't step outside right now without a helmet.

Sadly, we only lost power at noon-thirty, and then only for an hour. Drat the luck! I prepared tuna sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch, since that is wonderful storm comfort food. I had wanted tuna melts (seriously) but while it's possible to light the rangetop burners, the oven controls are electronic. Alas. As soon as I'd sliced the sandwiches, the power came back on.

That meant hobbitt's break was over (I would have so loved to play hookey with him today) and I had to dunk an untoasted sandwich into my tomato soup. Oh, the horror!

I don't like destruction or hardship, but I really love these violent storms. I hope we have a lot more of them this season. Is that so wrong?

wind

The winds have returned. Right now it's pretty blustery with gusts up to 40 mph, but we're headed to the beach with our anemometer to get the real story. Well, actually, to walk the dogs but who's going to argue? Hmm?

Weather dot com informs me that the actual wind advisory doesn't start until 4 a.m. tomorrow. And the gusts might reach 70 mph. In practical terms that means we'll probably lose power throughout the day, which will make it challenging for me to prepare food for the MG pot luck/elections meeting. But I don't particularly care.

I love the winds and the rain. I didn't, as a kid, when we used to sit out the nor'easters and remnants of hurricanes. Then, it scared me half to death. And here, it probably should, with all the hugely tall Douglas-firs that tend to bounce off houses and leave a rather nasty mark when they fall. Think about it: what needs tap roots in this enviroment? Shallow roots and heavy rains (tomorrow's forecast) plus winds equals a toppling here and there.

The winds will be from the south, though, and the closest Doug-firs are at the northeast of our property. So it's all good. Should be a fun day.

zach loves his mommy and he's a big boy now

what the?

So you already know that this is a pretty friendly town. Cashiers will actually have a conversation with you at the supermarket, and folks waiting behind you don't get angry - they just take part. Depending on where you hail from, this will either creep you out or piss you off since you're in a fig effen hurry. Slow down! This is Pete, for heaven's sake.

The other day I have a mid-size cart full and pick the checkout lane that seems shortest. The cashier and the customer in front of me turn and tell me that we are in "wait mode." Seems the guy two ahead of me has to go to the ATM to get money for his order. I comment that no matter, I always pick this line. And it's true. I just assume I'm going to be standing there, and I try to never be in a hurry. Not much to hurry about up here anyway.

So finally we get going. The coke bottle for the older fellow in front of me tips over on the moving belt, and falls on my side of the divider stick thingie. The cashier picks it up and says to the old fellow, "Hey, Bill, she's trying to steal your soda!"

We all chuckle but then something happens that makes me go "Hmmmmmm." The old guy raises his hand, in a "Why I oughtta..." gesture. I know he's kidding, but for the life of me I don't find that particular gesture all that funny.

And before I can stop myself, the words "Make it your best shot mister," come flying out of my mouth.

You can take the girl out of New Joy Sea, but you can't take the New Joy Sea out of the girl, I guppose.

random observations

I like roasted cauliflower waaaay too much. I'll fight you for the last few pieces. It's like candy to me. Same goes for roasted green beans. Be warned!

Discovery Bay was fogged in this morning as I took Zach to doggie daycare. The water was as still as glass. It was disorienting to see what I could of the mountains and fog perfectly reflected in the water. I had to stop the car to take it in.

After picking Zach up this evening, I noticed the fog had lifted somewhat, and there was a small patch of bright sky to the west. It was enough to illuminate the water, which now looked quilted. I can't adequately describe it. I wasn't able to pull over (there is no shoulder) but I remarked to myself that although I may never see that again, at least I'd seen it once.

I attended a meeting this afternoon where protocol was breached, toes were stepped on, and egos got exercised a bit. I could have passed on that. There was even some discussion about denying a scholarship to an applicant based on someone's personal experience with the applicant. I couldn't believe my ears. I pointed out that perhaps we should pay attention to the small print on our flyers (programs are open to all without discrimination) as well as develop some objective criteria for giving scholarships before we ever considered doing so again. Not only did I make my point, but the group was relieved of the difficult decision. Win win! Well, except for that pesky applicant.

bowling ball

Is it wrong for me to be utterly and completely enamored of my almost-year-old Zachary?

I love that his head feels like a bowling ball beneath my hand. I love the sounds he makes when he's rassling with Inti. I love that when I just can't wake up in the morning, I can open the door and finish off my nap with him all snuggled up against me.

I love that when he's digging down at the beach, he'll eventually start making frustrated yelps and howls. I love that when he's raring to go, he'll shriek in protest even while he's sitting and obeying. I love the way he's maturing into a very confident and friendly brute. I love the way his right ear stands at half-mast most of the time.

Inti is sweet, gentle, quiet. She's my shadow and has been my companion for a long time now. There's no replacing the love I feel for her. But Zach, well, he's a pistol. I love that he's like a tractable teenage boy.

Mostly, though, it's that bowling ball head thing.

nightwings

Now is the time when we begin taking our beach walks in the dark. It's usually peaceful, and we'll have many, many opportunities to star-gaze and compete to see who spots the first satellite. (hobbitt usually wins.)

I have been worried that Zach would need to be on-leash, but he's doing fine running along the waterfront, pouncing on whatever catches his eye and commencing a big dig. Inti trots along happily, as always, never too far beyond the scope of our flashlights.

Last night the sky was pretty clear. We were hoping to see Comet 17P/Holmes, but Perseus was obscured a bit by some wisps of clouds. As usual, hobbitt spotted the first satellite. And as we rounded the point and turned up towards the lagoon, we heard an alarming sound, like an onrushing wind. We shone our flashlights in that direction and saw what appeared to be steam rising from the lagoon.

I would love to have seen my face. I was stunned. It would have been a few more seconds for me to reach abject terror.

Seems we disturbed a whole flock of ducks, or maybe grebes, in the lagoon. Hopefully I can file that sound away in my brain so as not to be startled again.

pullman

Sometime in the 30's, a distant family member who worked for the railroad gave my grandmother a Pullman blanket. It's marked "Pullman S-20" and is the traditional salmon color. Rather, it was salmon, probably, at one time. Now it's a faded tan. When I was a kid we used it as a beach blanket. Somewhere along the way it was carefully folded and carried in my parents' car. When Mom gave us her car, we got the blanket too.

The stitching around the edges has loosened and is missing in some places, but the tight wool weave is intact. This blanket was used in a Pullman sleeper car at one time. When the blankets became too worn, they were given to the porters, but dyed blue first, so that they wouldn't get mixed in with the white passengers' blankets.

I have a hard time imagining that particular world.

It's heavy and a bit scratchy. It's a great thing to have in the trunk of a car, for emergencies, but we have two station wagons and no trunks. Moreover, our wagons' cargo areas are gritty with dog hair and sand. No place for a fine Pullman blanket.

Family lore has it that it's been used since the 30's, and I don't doubt that, but I can only verify that it's been around since the late 50's. So 50 years of use or more than 70 years - I hardly think it matters at this point. Does anybody make blankets like this anymore?

I thought my brother might enjoy it. He's quite the rail buff, and he and his wife will take excellent care of it. On Saturday we took it to the UPS store and shipped it off.

There are a lot of my parents' belongings in this little house. Well, maybe not a lot, but sometimes it feels a bit heavy. I'm glad my brother wanted the blanket, even though I'll miss being able to see it and take a few moments to reminisce.

great white hunter

My little sister's husband is an avid hunter. The title of this entry is her favorite nickname for him during hunting season.

He enjoys all seasons but particularly loves to spend long hours in a tree stand and wait for some venison sausage to walk by. To say he loves venison is an understatement.

The story goes that a few days ago he called in sick to work and went hunting. Smeared rabbit crap on his shoes to cover his scent. Hiked into the woods to his tree stand, climbed, and waited. Within an hour or so he was under attack by a fisher cat. Yeah, I didn't know what it was, either. So he's getting nipped at by this relentless weasel, and finally, after much noise and fuss, not to mention a very real danger of falling out of his tree, my brother-in-law manages to send the fisher away.

A few moments later, a bird flies directly at him and crashes into his head.

I don't believe he brought any dinner home that day. But it's just a guess.

pod

A few nights ago during our evening walk at the beach, hobbitt and I noticed a disturbance in the water (which was as smooth as glass), a few hundred feet off shore. At first I thought we were seeing Dall's porpoises, but a few moments of observation confirmed that it was a group of harbor seals. There were about a dozen, spread out over a somewhat large area. Occasionally we would see one come almost out of the water. I can only imagine the good fishing they were enjoying.

I've never seen more than three seals together in one place. On the other hand, we did see a large group of otters cavorting one summer evening a few years ago.

Even though it's something I say every day, I truly mean it. I love it here.

pete's on the map!

Film Festival? Kinetic Sculpture Race? Jazz Festival?

Nope.

MRSA staph infection. Woo hoo!

anniversary

Yeah, it's getting old, thank heavens.

Thirteen years ago today I got a diagnosis of cancer.

To say it changed my life is an understatement. Anyway, here I am, dumb, fat and happy, thirteen years later. I probably learned something from the adventure.

I am deeply grateful for all these years, and for all of you dear friends out there. Wouldn't have wanted to miss it!