POOKIE’S ADVENTURES: Mostly Mendocino, September 2023

“I always feel like a traveler, heading somewhere, towards some destination. If I sense that this destination doesn’t, in fact, exist, that seems to me quite reasonable and very likely true.”

VINCENT VAN GOGH.

I’ve also always felt like a traveler, heading somewhere, towards some destination. I never found it. I suspect Vincent discovered that it did not exist on that sad July day in 1890 in Auvers-sur-Oise, France.

It has been well over a week since I last wrote here. I have been quite ill, experiencing persistent headaches and dizziness. I spent most of that time in bed. Even today, I still feel unwell, although somewhat less than the past seven days. Severe depression accompanied my physical ailments.

I don’t recall much of what transpired during the few hours I was awake and mobile during that time. I do remember a day when Naida cried out, “I am a worm wiggling in the mud.” On the morning of another day, Naida woke up and decided to recite some poetry. Without my hearing aids on, I couldn’t understand the words, but I could discern the rhymes and rhythms. I believed she was reciting Longfellow, specifically “A Skeleton In Armor,” one of her favorites. I was correct. Later I attempted to read my latest novel but gave up after struggling through one chapter.

While happiness often may be as simple as waiting to see what happens next – a principle upon which I’ve based my life – when you feel awful, however, waiting to see what happens next sucks. However, one should never underestimate the benefits of self-delusion. So, I am certain I will feel better tomorrow… or the day after.

During the past week or ten days, I’ve hardly written here. There seems to have been a change in my health and Naida’s as well. I appear to require more and more sleep to get through the day. Today, the first day of September, I attempted my usual stroll through the Enchanted Forest – about a two-mile walk. I had to stop and rest on benches five times to complete it. Each stop demanded about 15 minutes to regain my strength and breath.

Yesterday, I drove to the Golden Hills for my weekly lunch with HRM. He surprised me with his announcement that his true interest for college lies in languages. He expressed no difficulty in learning them. He already speaks English and Thai fluently and has some understanding of Italian. Recently, he has been teaching himself Japanese. He aspires to learn ten languages and listed them for me. When I returned to the Enchanted Forest, exhaustion forced me to bed, where I slept until seven PM.

I’m perplexed about what has been happening to me in recent weeks. Is it psychological, a result of depression and psychosomatic pains, or is it physical? It could be that I’ve been consuming too much news. Watching the news can lead to severe physical and mental decline.

Today, after breakfast, I returned to bed, feeling both physical and mental discomfort. Around 5 PM, I went downstairs. Naida was watching the news. I joined her. After about an hour, I developed a stomach ache and contemplated returning to bed. Would I be better off if I stopped watching the news and spent my time walking through the woods, or perhaps sleeping more and dreaming? I missed the Saturday Morning Coffee again today. I also learned that my dear friend Burma Richard is battling cancer.

On Sunday, I awoke with my usual headache and dizziness. After breakfast, I headed to CVS to pick up some prescriptions, although I shouldn’t have been driving in this condition. As I drove along Howe and prepared to make a left turn at the stoplight leading to CVS, I noticed a young black woman on the sidewalk to my right, screaming and beginning to run backward. A young man approached her angrily. Here began my series of poor decisions. Despite being an almost 84-year-old man, I believed I needed to intervene and prevent whatever negative event I perceived was about to occur. My second example of poor judgment was to turn the wheels of the car sharply to the right, intending to cross two lanes of busy traffic and park by the curb. My plan was to exit the car and prevent the anticipated incident. This resulted in blaring horns and screeching tires from the cars in the two right lanes. I quickly returned to my lane and reached the stoplight for my left turn. As I stopped, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw the woman escaping down a side street, with the man turning around and walking back along the sidewalk.

I continued to the CVS parking lot. As I entered, four cars backed out simultaneously, directly towards me on all sides. Amid the chaos, I considered the incredible mathematical improbability of the situation, along with the equally likely mathematical probability that one of those drivers would collide with me. Surprisingly, none did. The car directly in front of me moved after a few back-and-forth maneuvers, allowing me to park in the space it vacated.

After collecting my medicines, I returned home. It was a gorgeous day, around 80 degrees with a gentle breeze. I decided to take a walk despite my headaches and dizziness. I had to stop at each bench along the way to rest. The weather was so delightful that I took some photographs. While resting on the second and third benches, I thought that Naida would enjoy this more than I did, and I decided to head back home instead of continuing the walk. I still needed to stop and rest on my way back.

Once home, I encouraged Naida to pause her memoir revisions and enjoy the day by going for a walk. So, she and the dog went out. I was still battling pain and dizziness, so I went upstairs for a nap. I considered increasing my thyroid medication slightly to alleviate the dizziness. I slept until around five o’clock. Although my headache and dizziness had eased, I was famished. I had dinner, and we watched “Schindler’s List” before going to bed – not the most uplifting film to dream about.

The new week began with a dream that left me awestruck for about ten minutes as I lay in bed. I was convinced that this would be one of those dreams forever etched in my memory, becoming an integral part of my life. Alas, by mid-morning, it had vanished. So it goes. On a positive note, I woke up feeling better – no headaches or dizziness throughout the morning. Maybe it was my thyroid after all. As positive as this seemed, we managed to watch “The Hours,” one of the greatest downer movies of all time, before leaving the house for lunch.

As we set off for lunch, we hadn’t decided on a suitable restaurant yet. While driving down Fulton near Fair Oaks, I remembered a place where we used to dine outdoors on the patio. We hadn’t been there since before the pandemic. Although we used to frequent it, I stopped going because I thought the menu had become mediocre. Since it was a beautiful day to dine outdoors – sunny and around 80 degrees – I suggested we give it a try. Naida agreed.

We were seated near two other residents of the Campus Commons, whom I had dubbed Big Bill and his girlfriend, Cheryl. Bill had once been the head of the FBI in Utah but resigned due to the Mormon influence there. He became a PI in the Bay Area until retiring and moving to our community. Cheryl also lived in our community and served on the HOA Executive Committee. After exchanging greetings and pleasantries, we sat down at our table and placed our orders. The menu seemed different, the food tasted better than I remembered, and I hadn’t enjoyed a meal this much in years. The prosciutto and melon appetizer with a sprinkle of pepper and sea salt, the caprese salad, the gnocchi with roasted peppers, and the corn risotto were all divine. I ate slowly, often closing my eyes to savor the flavors. As we were waiting for my espresso with lemon peel, Naida said, “Do you know what’s going through my head right now? Dry bones.” And then she began singing it softly. I joined in. Just in case here is the refrain:

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Now hear the word of the Lord.

After lunch, we returned home – and I still had no headaches or dizziness.

Around 5 PM, I decided it was a good time to go for a swim. I did just that, and it was refreshing. There were more people at the pool than usual, about eight in total. As they gradually left, I found myself alone by about 6 PM. So, feeling rejuvenated from my swim, I left the pool as well and headed back home.

Tuesday morning was great. I was awakened by the dog barking more hysterically than usual. I realized he was barking at the tar-spreading trucks that were to cover the streets and alleys of our neighborhood today. I had forgotten they would block our garages for the day. I had lunch scheduled with HRM, so I threw on my pants, put one arm into a shirt, slipped into some shoes, ran downstairs and into the garage, and drove the car out. I squeezed through two tar spreader trucks, passed the barricades by driving up on the curb, and eventually parked the car on one of the streets not scheduled to be covered today. I got out of the car, put my other arm into its sleeve, cinched up my belt, and began the walk home. I had not taken my walking stick with me, so with my uncombed hair flying about, my generally rumpled outfit, and my stagger, I trundled on looking like some ancient drunk just getting home after a long night.

Following breakfast, Naida and I listened to about two hours of the divine Ella Fitzgerald. I have always loved her. In person, she looks like everyone’s favorite aunt, and when she sings, she sounds like a 19-year-old skinny ingenue in a skin-tight sequined dress standing in the spotlight of a smoky nightclub somewhere in Harlem. On one song, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, I think, Naida joined in. She held the keynote while Ella’s voice sparkled around it like fireflies on a hot August night, with Sachmo laying down a cool, raspy bass line. It was magnificent.

Although I had always enjoyed Fitzgerald’s singing, I was really introduced to her music by Bob Cavallo when we were freshmen in College. We went off to college together at Georgetown in DC and supported ourselves by running bands for college dances and holding crooked card games for the wealthier students who seemed to enjoy losing. Bob then went on to open a nightclub in DC, then managing the Lovin Spoonful, Earth, Wind, and Fire, Elvis Costello, and many others. One day I was in his office in LA, and he was extremely upset. “I’m selling a defective product, musicians. I’ve got to get out of this business.”

“What would you do?” I inquired. “Movies,” he responded. “I am thinking of making a movie, a rock movie.”

“Who will you get for a star?” I asked. “I have this kid in Minneapolis. He says he will fire me if I don’t get him a movie.” And that’s how “Purple Rain” was born. He followed this up with 12 Monkeys and a string of movies starring Bruce Willis. Later he returned to the music field as CEO of one of the major recording companies. I do not remember which.

Later I left for lunch with HRM. On the drive, I pondered my similarities with Leonardo Da Vinci. I am left-handed, so was he. I’m of Italian descent, so was he. He, of course, was a genius, and I am not. He, however, rarely finished anything, neither do I.

“You can’t change the path you walk; you can only change the side you walk on.”

  Smirnoff, Karin. “The Girl in the Eagle’s Talons (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo Series)” (p. 349). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group.

I guess I also thought about the book I was reading, the seventh in the Millennium series that began with Stieg Larsson’s first of three books, “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” and after his death continued with a trilogy by another author followed by the first book in another trilogy featuring the same main characters, “The Girl In The Eagle’s Talons” by Karin Smirnoff. Perhaps I will write about it later.

Hayden and I had lunch at a Mexican restaurant that we like. He was excited about his upcoming trip to Phoenix on Friday for his sales training to market a new television broadcasting service. I, less so, being somewhat jaundiced about sales schemes like this (having participated in one or two myself). I then returned home, went for a swim, walked the dog, ate dinner, watched some TV that I promptly forgot, and went to bed.

The next day was even less notable than the day before. I did not leave the house or even change out of what I had worn to bed. Well, tomorrow is another day.

Thursday was worse. I tried to figure out what was happening. I failed. I considered going to the emergency room. Didn’t. I stayed in bed all day writhing in pain. I was convinced (not for the first time) I was going to die before morning. Didn’t. For some reason, I woke up feeling good for the first time in over a month. Not great… I still felt like an old man, even older than I felt a month ago, but the dizziness was gone along with the headaches. What was that all about? Will I feel good tomorrow also? Naida’s daughters opined that Naida and I have been suffering a virus, flu, or something. If so, why did she handle it so much better than I did? OK, I’m a wuss and a hypochondriac.

I do not recall what happened on Friday. Nothing good I imagine. Saturday started out the same, but Naida and I had a nice lunch at a nearby restaurant. At about 6pm, my sister and George arrived to spent the night. We went out to dinner at the marvelous Nepalese restaurant that Naida and I discovered a few weeks ago, Namaste Sacramandu.

The following morning we packed and left in Maryann’s car for Mendocino. Along with a stop at a the Blue Wing Saloon in Upper Lake for a late lunch. After the six hour drive we arrived in Mendocino and went right to sleep.

The Next morning we got up at about 10AM. It was sunny and warm for Mendocino so we took a walk with the dog. I tired quickly and returned to the house.

Views of Mendocino.

From upper left and then clockwise: Naida receiving a bouquet of sunflowers from a neighbor of Maryann and George; Naida sitting in the sun enjoying the view; A view from our window; Naida preparing breakfast.

George dressed in his Mendocino VFD outfit was called out on an emergency. When he returned Naida and I were sitting on the sofa reading. We asked him what was the emergency. “An old woman was dying when we arrived,” he said. “A member of the family showed us the old woman’s ‘please do not resuscitate me’ document. She was unconscious, so we waited for her to die.” 

Naida and I were shocked at this. “In your long career a a paramedic, did you see something like this offer?” “It was not common during my time in San Francisco but it did,” he said. “It was sad.”

“What was the saddest thing you have seen?” I asked. “Children,” he responded. He then added,

“There was a time, I was not working but at a ski resort when a young woman had been run over and killed. I couple of nurses and a doctor who were vacationing at the resort were trying to resuscitate her. I came by to help I took one look at here and said to them, I’ve seen this several times before, her brain was already oozing out from the wound in head. Then the woman’s fiancé came out and the last thing I saw was him, which her in his arms, rocking back and forth and crying.”

After breakfast Naida, George and I accompanied by Booboo the Barking Dog and Finn the Wonder Dog walked into town to buy some things. Naida bought some practical things like toothpaste which we had forgotten to pack. I, who recalled Naida telling me a few day’s ago that we needed to buy a fly swatter to deal with the invasion of fly’s and mosquitos that had taken over the house, marched into the hardware store and ordered their most effective and painful implements to slaughter small flying creatures that invade a home. I walked out with two traditional fly swatters, one for each floor in the house and one of those electric fly and mosquito killers that looks like a tennis racket. When I showed my purchases to Naida, she grabbed the racket, swung it about once or twice and said, “I’m a tennis player, you know. It’s all in the follow through.” So while George continued his walk, Naida and I, two well armed assassins, returned to the house, collapsed on the bed and slept for the next few hours.

We had a nice spaghetti and fish dinner that evening and sat around reading, playing on our computers or reprimanding the dogs. I felt quite well with only a slight headache.

The following morning, after breakfast, I walked with George and Finn to my favorite bookstore. After browsing for an hour or so I bought several books, a Sicilian cookbook for my sister, a tarted up copy of Lord of the Rings for me tarted up books library, a book of E.A. Poe’s poetry and short stories for Naida along with a guide to North American Hummingbirds, a book on Japanese folktales for HRM, and a bust of Inigo Montoya that also recites those immortal words, ‘Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die.’”

Inigo Montoya

The walk back to the house was exhausting forcing me to stop and rest several times along the way. Maryann attended a Mendocino County Board of Supervisor’s meeting. George played with Finn in the back yard. Naida continued to read a novel, and I wrote this.

After a nap, I took another walk this time towards the cliffs. I contemplated the view for awhile before returning to the house for dinner. I was pleased with myself for having made my step count for the day. That night we watched three episodes of Deathloch, a comic’ mystery that takes place way down under in Tasmania where the gender roles are as reversed as the seasons in the southern hemisphere

Today Wednesday, following lunch we napped most of the afternoon. Later we visited a new brew pub in Fort Bragg. I believe it will grow into one of the city’s foremost attractions. Delightful location, service, and beers.

In the middle of the night, Naida awoke with pains in her shoulder. I had to walk across the garden to the main house and wake up Mary and George in order to get some Tylenol. It seemed to work and Naida slept well the rest of  the night.

The following morning, we slept late. After the usual morning rituals, I returned to the main house where George informed me that the bagels had arrived. Oh happy day.

Later, I walked into town to buy some Tylenol so as to avoid nighttime rambles in search of a pain reliever. I continued on through the town to the store selling random scientific implements and toys. I could find nothing for presents or for my pleasure so I returned to the bookstore. Nothing piqued my interest, but pursuant to my rule to never enter a bookstore without purchasing something, I bought another talking bust of  Inigo Montoya and walked back to Mary and Georges house. So far today I have walked over 3,700 steps. Good for me.

That evening Mary George and I went to a new brew-pub named Tall Guy Brewery that had opened in Fort Bragg. It was a delight. I predicted it would become one of the future highlights of Ft. Bragg.

Later, we all went to have dinner at a seafood restaurant in Fort Bragg. It is a relatively new restaurant that none had eaten at before. It proved to be a wonderful experience. One of the better seafood restaurants that I have eaten at.

As we finished dinner and perused the dessert menu, I glanced at Naida. She was oddly bent over her plate. Initially, I didn’t think much of it, assuming she was pondering something to contribute to our light-hearted after-dinner conversation. Suspecting my assumption was flawed, I looked at her again and noticed she had passed out. We all rushed to her aid. George mentioned he couldn’t detect her pulse. As we attempted to lift her, and she began vomiting and seemed to regain consciousness. We decided to drive her to the emergency room. While George and Maryann supported her under her arms and escorted her to the parking lot, I settled the bill. At the emergency room, she had recovered enough to respond to the medical staff’s questions. After CT scans that showed no signs of a stroke, she was admitted to the hospital for further cardiac tests.

The following morning, George and I returned to the hospital. Naida appeared to be doing well. A tremendously helpful healthcare provider explained the test results thus far and outlined the additional tests required before she could be discharged from the hospital. George and I then returned to his house to await the call. Later in the afternoon, we picked up Naida. She had been fitted with a heart monitor and was instructed to meet with her cardiologist upon returning to Sacramento.

The next day is a bit hazy in my memory, but in the evening, we watched the final episode of Deadloch. I love that show.

On Saturday, I had oatmeal. I had avoided oatmeal for over 75 years because I disliked the taste. My sister served me “backed” oatmeal that morning and insisted I try it. I did, and I’m sorry to say, I liked it. At noon, we departed Mendocino to return to Sacramento. George drove the entire way and spent the night with us. The next morning he left and drove alone all the way back to Mendocino

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POOKIE’S ADVENTURES: June Brides and Film Fesitvals (June 2023).

“The world is too complex for most things to be purely right or wrong. Given that, the way words, actions, or even intent is viewed depends on who is doing the viewing and on who is being viewed.”

                Winter, Evan. The Fires of Vengeance: 2 (The Burning) (p. 181). Orbit.

On Saturday, we set off for the marriage of Naida’s grandson Charlie to his longtime girlfriend Sidney. The ceremony was held in Capital Park in Sacramento, one of my favorite urban parks. It was a very pleasant and thankfully brief ceremony. Afterward, we folded the chairs, placed them into canvas bags, and carried them to the reception, which was held at the home of Sarah and Mark, the groom’s parents.

The reception was fun. They had re-landscaped the backyard, replaced the deck, painted the house, and restored the roof, all for the wedding. They also had rented a portable toilet (with air-conditioning) and contracted with a local taco purveyor to provide the food. In addition there was an MC who brought along music and made announcements. Tables were set out on the lawn in the backyard for the guests along with a smaller one containing the wedding cake. On one of the staggered layers of the cake, there stood a little statuette of a dog.

There was also a ping pong table. Naida and I tried to play a game, but I was awful, so I quit. A bean-bag throwing course had been set up, which was monopolized by two young men who played the game as though they were professionals.

After milling about for a little while, we ate the food prepared by the taco maker. Then, the best man gave his speech, the bride and groom cut the cake and fooled around with the first slice. There were a few more speeches, including from the bride and groom, followed by the first dance. Then the father of the bride danced with the bride, and the mother of the groom danced with the groom. After that, I don’t recall much. I remembered most of the stuff I just mentioned because most of that is done at most weddings. All in all, it was fun for me, I enjoyed it a lot and I am Happy for Charlie and Sidney.

While we were gone, my sister and her husband arrived at our home in the Enchanted Forest to spend a few days before driving us to Mendocino for the film festival. We left the keys to enable them to get settled in our house while we were at the wedding. My sister spent the day shopping because she felt the stores on the Mendocino coast did not offer her the things she she needed.

The next day, we had a nice lunch together at Zuccalo’s and did some shopping at Bed Bath & Beyond during their store closing sale. We also spent the afternoon swimming in  the pool.That evening, we had dinner together at the Abyssinian restaurant nearby that we like so much.

On Memorial Day Monday, Naida realized she had to stay home to complete the edits of her memoir so that the re-edited book would be available at the author’s booth in the California State Fair in July. So, I headed off to Mendocino with Mary and George.

The next day, Mary went off to work at a conference in Hopland, leaving George, Finn the Wonder Dog, and me to do as we pleased. After breakfast, we decided to take Finn to the dog park. Following that, I stopped in the Sock Shop and bought four pairs of socks: two for myself and two as presents for Naida. We then enjoyed a great pizza at Frankie’s and walked back home. I took a two-hour nap while George went about his business in the house. After waking up, George and I drove to Fort Bragg for some dinner shopping and to pick up antihistamines for me. When we returned home, Maryann had come back from her conference. She mentioned observing some technologies for use in more rural areas like Mendocino. She felt that despite the promise of these new technologies, they still required electricity, water, and broadband to operate effectively, not to mention the problem of unemployment caused by these technologies. That evening, we watched a few episodes of Ted Lasso.

The following morning was sunny and bright. Maryann began her workday in the upstairs office, George brewed coffee, and I sat by the window, writing this while Finn the Wonder Dog ran around energetically and occasionally jumped onto the sofa to lick my face. Then I headed upstairs for a morning nap. Upon waking, I decided to take a walk into town, have lunch, visit some shops, and stroll around the headlands. As usual, I started taking photographs. I have taken hundreds of pictures of Mendocino over the years, and it’s consistently picturesque. No matter where you point your camera, the resulting photo is charming. This time, I focused on capturing images of flowers rather than scenic vistas or charming structures. But first, I needed lunch.

I entered the Mendocino Cafe, which had now been taken over by Latinos. The menu featured Mexican cuisine, except for one Chinese stir-fry dish, which I, of course, chose. As expected, it wasn’t the best choice. So much for my culinary expertise.

After lunch, I strolled through town, stopping at my favorite shops and noting down items I planned to purchase upon my return the next day. When I reached the end of the commercial area of Mendocino, I took the path leading to the streets encircling the Mendocino Bluffs. However, the strong wind made me feel too tired for that long walk, so I retraced my steps through town, enjoyed a sundae at Frankie’s to recharge, and then made my way back to my sister’s house.

That evening, my sister introduced me to ChatGPT, which I am now using to write T&T, giving me more time for naps. Later, we watched a few more episodes of Ted Lasso, which, as it turns out, is quite similar to napping.

The next morning, the house cleaners arrived, so we had to vacate the house and find other things to do. Fortunately, the weather remained unusually sunny and warm for Mendocino. At around 9:00 AM, George, Finn the Wonder Dog, and I headed to downtown Mendocino. We had breakfast at the Good Life Cafe, one of the town’s better breakfast spots. One of Mendocino’s many ravens joined us for breakfast.

Mendocino is known for its abundant ravens, which are quite different from the “Nevermore Lenore” ravens. These are more of the “Inyourfuckingface” variety.

`Mendocino is like a town out of the past—although the past in this case is only about 50 years ago. It represents to me the best of what I call “Liberal/conservatism” (or Conservative/liberalism)—conservative for its severe restrictions on changes to the existing built community and to the environment, and liberal for its resistance to restraints on the individual.

We then walked around the town until the stores finally opened. At the bookstore (one of my most favorite bookstores in the world), I bought a recent edition of the collected books of “Earthsea” by Ursula Le Guin. I purchased it because not only is it a marvelous collection of a great author’s best work, but with its vibrant illustrations, it is the type of work that may never be printed again as we stumble into the AI phase of the electronic age.

Later, George and I drove into Fort Bragg again to pick up my library card, visit the local marvel of a sewing shop to buy something small and mysterious, and then went to the market to get fixings for dinner. After dinner, we all went to the Mendocino Film Festival opening event for sponsors. The event was held in a tent on a site adjacent to Hill House. 

The festival organizers presented themselves on the stage all in their Mendocino concept of high fashion.

 Some awards were announced and given out, and we saw a group of the festival’s short films. They were quite clever. After the event, we returned home and watched another episode of Ted Lasso.

The next morning, it was sunny and warm for the coast. Maryann went upstairs to begin work, George played with the dog in the backyard, and I sat by the window drinking my morning coffee and typing this. After a while, I returned to my room upstairs and took a brief morning nap. I slept for about an hour and then set off for downtown. I ate pizza for lunch at Frankie’s and then walked through the town, stopping at a gift shop to buy a ceramic heart with a painting of a hummingbird for Naida. I also spent time lost in the bookstore and science shop before returning home and taking my mid-afternoon nap.

That evening, we attended a reception for the sponsors of the festival at Hill House. Most of the people attending seemed older than me, especially the band members. 

The various restaurants and wineries in the area provided the food. Maryann introduced me to the local supervisor. Later, I picked up some Italian ice cream from one of the sponsoring companies’ display and went outside to sit on a bench to devour it. I was joined by a man who introduced himself as Gaetano. He was a land appraiser and lived in the Bay Area, staying with some friends in Mendocino. As we compared notes on our histories, we were startled at how similar they were, from our families coming from similar areas in Italy to our experiences living there.

After that, Mary, George, and I drove into Albion to have dinner at one of their favorite places. The food was wonderful. After we returned home and I prepared for bed, while I was clipping my toenails, I slipped with the clippers, cut my toe, and bled all over the floor.

The next morning, we went to see an excellent movie about three unusual women who made careers for themselves in novel ways. It was quite well done and interesting. We then ate lunch at a new Chinese fast-food place. At about one in the afternoon, we attended another movie entitled “Finding Her Beat,” about a woman’s Taiko drum group. After the movie, a Taiko drum group performed live. It was all great fun.

After the movie, we drove up the coast to Pacific Coast Winery, one of my favorite places on the coast. George picked up some wines, we talked with the owner, the beautiful and mysterious Sally, and sat in deck chairs, basking in the sun and overlooking the ocean for a very long time.

We returned home, had dinner, watched more episodes of Ted Lasso, and then went to bed. All in all, it was another great day.

On Sunday, we watched two more movies, both of which turned out to be rather peculiar. The first one, titled “A Short Trip to Italy,” wasn’t the travelogue I expected. Instead, it was a mishmash of elements, including a cartoon, a documentary about projectionists in Italy during the era of community movie theaters, some content involving bears, and a few other things that escape my memory. The second film, “Wine and Weed,” centered around two families – one operating a small winery in the Bordeaux region of France and the other navigating the complexities of California’s marijuana legalization legislation. I found it challenging to untangle the multitude of themes in the movie and decipher its intended message.

In the evening, Maryjane and Jovan joined us for dinner. Maryjane had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease a year or two ago, and the last time I saw her, she was in poor health. However, tonight, she appeared to be doing much better, even though she still had difficulty walking. I first met Maryjane at a Mendocino Volunteer Fire Department event several years ago. She approached me and declared, “I married a clown.” I initially thought it was a joke, but she clarified, “No, I really married a clown.” Maryjane had grown up in Brooklyn, NY, and had joined the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus, becoming a trapeze artist. She married a clown but promptly divorced him because he wasn’t as funny when performing under the big tent. She then moved to Chicago and married another circus clown, with similar results. So, she decided on two things: never to marry a clown again and to move as far west as possible. She eventually settled in Mendocino, which is about as far west as you can go in the continental US, and married Jovan, a small contractor and volunteer fireman.

That evening, we watched the final episode of “Ted Lasso” and couldn’t help shedding a few tears at the end.

The next morning, I bid farewell to Maryann as she headed off to work, and George was scheduled to drive me back home to Sacramento. While we were sipping our morning coffee before leaving, George called the local radio station, COAST, and won a contest by correctly guessing the musician they had described. I don’t know the exact question, but the answer was John Lennon. I was surprised to learn that over the years, George had won this contest five times. The prize for winning included stickers, temporary tattoos, bumper stickers, and other station merchandise. It’s quite a feat, and I’m proud to have such a famous and accomplished brother-in-law.

As I was getting ready to leave, George took Finn, the wonder dog, for an off-leash walk. Two deer strolled by, and Finn darted into the woods after them. George went to retrieve him. A short time later, a neighbor showed up at the door with a not-so-ashamed Wonder Dog in tow. George returned, slightly annoyed, and took the dog out to play fetch in the backyard. Meanwhile, I finished packing, and we embarked on the long drive back home. We made only a brief stop for coffee at a charming cafe in one of the towns bordering Clear Lake. Although I offered to share the driving, George insisted on taking the wheel. So, I settled in, listened to an Auntie Poldi novel on Books on Tape, and enjoyed the passing scenery.

We arrived back at the Enchanted Forest around 4:30 PM, and to my surprise, after unloading my luggage and greeting Naida, George immediately left and drove back to Mendocino.

For some reason, the day after my return, I felt as though I had passed away but hadn’t stopped breathing yet. I spent most of the day in bed. On Wednesday, however, I felt much better. I didn’t achieve much more than I had on the previous day, mostly sleeping, but at least I was aware of my lethargy. I did manage to finish another Billy Boyle novel and started reading something called “Legends and Lattes.”

The following day, the weather was pleasant, with temperatures in the low 80s and a brilliant blue sky. Naida and I took a nice long walk through the Enchanted Forest. When we returned, we turned on the TV and learned that Trump was going to be indicted.

The day after that, I woke up early to make it to my dermatologist appointment. They assured me that I was doing well, removed a mole from my cheek below my left eye, and sent me on my way with plenty of smiles. Later in the day, Naida and I walked our dog around the lakes and had pizza for dinner. It was a good day, but not particularly memorable.

On Saturday evening, we visited Naida’s daughter’s home to celebrate her granddaughter Natalie’s graduation from UC Berkeley and her departure for graduate studies at the University of Chicago.

 

 

 

Saturday came in sunny and warm. It looks like a food day for swimming. That’s about it for now.

 

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