“Humans are fundamentally limited, generalising creatures, living on auto-pilot, who straighten out curved streets in their minds, which explains why they get lost all the time.”
Haig, Matt. The Midnight Library (p. 149). Penguin Publishing Group.
Let’s begin this post with the Saturday Morning Coffee at the Nepenthe clubhouse since it seems to be the steadily reoccurring event that marks the current phase of my life here in the Enchanted Forest.
The Saturday Morning Coffee crowd. More or less from left to right: On the far left are a group of four, three men and one woman (only two of the group are visible). Of that group two are reputed to have been spies for the US government. I do not know which two. Behind the big man in the chair who I refer to as Big Bill sits Naida. Next to her is the most recently elected member to the HOA. I do not know the next two woman to the right, but next to them holding a cup of coffee is Gerry with a G, our fearless leader. I do not recognize the rest of them except for the man in the far right whose head is sticking out into the photo. He is the Reverend.s
There were at least thirty-people there this week. The Reverend sat down next to me. I like the Reverend. He is a Methodist minister and a good talker. What I do not like about him is that he gets me to talk — to talk too much. I do not remember what I talked about but it must have been good because I was embarrassed at the end. Luckily at that point, Gerry with a G, our leader rang her little bell and silence spread throughout the room. Sometimes I think I show up to these things only to hear her ring her little bell and see the room go quiet. “That’s real power,” my sister said at the time she attended one of these coffees.
The meeting began, as it usually does, with a few rounds of dumb jokes. Then my hearing aid battery died and I could not hear the rest of the announcements so I spent the time taking photographs. After the meeting Naida and I sat and talked with a Japanese woman who lived near the clubhouse. We invited her to meet with my son’s wife Hiromi when she arrives tomorrow with Jason and my granddaughter Amanda.
For two days I have been keeping in mind something I wanted to write here, but I have now forgotten it… Wait, I think I remember… it may be or not be what it was but it will do. Anyway, my last T&T post prompted responses that humbled me. Thank you all.
Sunday, It has been almost a week of temperatures in the 100sF. It has another three or four more days before it dips again into the 90sF. The heat certainly tires out this old fella. Anyway, we spent the day cleaning up the house and grocery shopping in preparation for my son’s visit this evening. At about 3:30 in the afternoon, we decided to quit for a while so, I wrote this while Naida read me interesting bits of the obituaries that appeared in the Sunday edition of the local newspaper. I refuse to read the obituaries, but Naida seems to like to. The stories she chooses to read to me are interesting at times — not the deaths, but the weirdness the deceased had gotten into during his or her life.
While sitting here on the sofa together, Naida looked at the painting I had done of a man standing in a canoe. It sits above her desk. I have always pointed out to anyone whe may have inquires about it that, as attractive as the painting may be, someone who tries to stand up in a canoe is sure to find himself soon in the water. Naida said she thinks the painting represents looking into the future. “He has rowed far down a long placid river,” she mused, “and he has just gotten up to see what is ahead of him. Far off he sees the river sliding into the ocean and the great ocean waves breaking there are sure to capsize him.” I don’t know about that. I painted it from a postcard I liked. It was the color and the melodrama (kitschiness) of the scene.
At about 8:30, Jason, Hiromi, and Amanda arrived. Amanda planned to participate in a week-long Girls’ Government event at Sacramento State University. We en joyed a pleasant dinner together.
Clockwise from the upper left: Jason watching Naida cooking; sitting down at dinner; dinner featuring petrale sole, mozzarella and prosciutto, and a kale salad; Naida and Amanda in the guest bedroom, Amanda and I listening to Naida play the piano; a toast for the family get-together.
The following morning, we dropped my granddaughter off at Sacramento State University where she was to attend the event called Girls Government, or something like that, where the atendees assume the roles of participants in State and local legislatures.
After seeing Amanda off to her dormitory, Jason drove off to play a round of golf at a nearby golf course and Hiromi and I took a nice long walk across the Guy West bridge and then through the Enchanted Forest back to the house.
Following a few hours of rest from our long walk, we set off to visit the Japanese woman, Setsuko Matsui Colby, we had met at the Saturday Morning Coffee. She moved into Campus Commons in January and was very lonely because she knew very few people in the area. Setsuko, the daughter of a wealthy Japanese family, had been married to a professor of psychology and had lived in Irvine California. Her two grown children eventually came to live with her.
At the Saturday Morning Coffee, I had mentioned my daughter-in-law was Japanese and would be visiting us in a few days. Setsuko was very eager to meet her.
We were met at the door by her son a thin pleasant young man in his early thirties. Setsuko came down stairs and was very happy to see us, especially Hiromi. They both sat there grinning and exuberantly speaking with each other in Japanese. It was so poignant that Naida and I began to cry. Setsuko then told us her story — about coming from a wealthy Japanese family and living in a home in Japan that occupied several floors at the top of a high-rise — About being married off to an abusive, wealthy American and being forced to live in Orange County — about a high-performing son attending one of the the most prestigious academies in Boston who after a terrible life threatening motorcycle accident experiencing serious psychological problems. We then toured the house. She described the various Japanese artworks and mementos she had preserved.
After a couple of pleasant hours, we left and returned home.
From upper left clockwise: Setsuko and Hiromi; Naida and Setsuko’s son; Hiromi; Naida; Setsuko; me.
(This morning while typing this, the television was on as usual. An item came on about the recent US Supreme Court overturning Roe v Wade. Naida went off on a rant, unusual for her, attacking the decision and listing its dolorous effects on women and society. Go Naida.)
Anyway, Jason then returned from his golfing excursion and we all took naps. A bit after we got up at about 5 or 6PM they left and returned to San Francisco.
On Tuesday, the 11th or 12th day of plus 100F, we spent most of the day avoiding the heat. We watched the January 6th congressional hearings marveling and grunting at the testimony as appropriate .
Later we drove to the repair shop to pick up the automobile and return the car we had been using to the rental agency. When we got home we were exhausted from the heat and I took a nice one hour nap.
That evening at about 6 PM, the temperature had just dropped to 99F I went for a swim in the pool. There were no children this evening. As I was swimming my laps three large women jumped into the pool. They were carrying containers holding cocktails and their bodies were encircled by flotation devices. They floated about the deep end indiscriminately like a mote subject to Brownian motion. When one swims through swarms of small children they simply bounce of you and move on. These woman,however, were solid enough and their movements so haphazard that I had little doubt that I would crash into one and sink to the bottom of the pool, So I got out of the water and sat in to sun to dry off. Eventually, they coalesced so that all three congregated in a spall corner of the pool and partied, leaving the rest of the pool free for me to resume swimming. I did not do so, however, because I have a rule against returning to the water once I get out. So, after a while, I gathered my things and returned home.
On Wednesday the high temperature dropped to 98F. I cannot say I could feel the difference. I stayed in the house reading and puttering around in my computer until 4:30 when the temperature dropped to below 95. I then went to the pharmacy and grocery shopping.
Well, I did not actually get to go shopping. As I opened the garage and prepared to get into the car, I felt dizzy, faint, and nauseous. I returned to the house and laid back down of the sofa in the studio and took my blood pressure. I was very low 113 over 52. I had not eaten lunch so Naida prepared some scrambled eggs with onions and mushrooms.
By the evening, I felt better. I wonder what that was all about.
Thursday morning. I am still feeling a bit dizzy. The outside temperature has fallen substantially. It is 9AM and the temperature is in the mid 60sF. The high for the day is expected to reach only into the upper 80sF.
I set off to do the shopping I failed to do yesterday. When I think about it, my life now primarily consists of playing on the internet, napping, medical appointments, grocery shopping, and now and then lunches with HRM. I used to subscribe to the philosophy of whenever you are given a choice in life choose the most interesting unless it will harm someone more than you will harm yourself. Now even if life gives you a choice, it is your body that makes the choice and that choice seems usually to be, “Sorry perhaps some other time. I don’t feel up to it right now.” It seems to me odd that now when our tomorrows are becoming fewer we appear to be more inclined to primes ourselves to do tomorrow what we could have done today.
After shopping, I ate lunch and took a nap and then went for a swim and a pleasant walk. That evening we watched an interesting western on TCM called Dead Man. It starred Johnny Depp and was directed by Jim Jarmusch one of my favorite directors. As one would expect from a collaboration between professional weirdos like Depp and Jarmusch it was bizarre. I couldn’t possibly describe the plot except to say it concerned Indians and everyone dies in the end.
That night, I experienced another bout of dizziness and did not sleep well. Also my throat hurt and my back itched. Nevertheless tomorrow is another day.
The next morning, Naida and I had an argument about how to work the TV remote. (we only argue about how those modern implements of torture, TV remotes, computers, and smart-phones operate) So we shut it off and she went upstairs to dress for the day and I wrote this. The dog slept through it all.
As I write this now, I do not recall what else happened on Friday. I think we shopped for tomorrow’s lunch with Jason’s family. Later, I believe I went swimming. Anyway, it is now Saturday at about 4PM. This morning Jason and Hiromi arrived at about 8AM. After coffee and a quick breakfast Jason drove off to play golf. Hiromi, Naida, and I walked to Setsuko’s house. It was surprisingly chilly this morning with the temperature expected to barely exceed 80F at its high point later in the day. Upon arriving at Setsuko’s, we found that her and her daughter had prepared some food for us for lunch although it was not even 10AM. It was a special Japanese dish with noodles fresh vegetables and eggs. I ate a bit. It was quite good. Naida ate a large dish because she had not eaten breakfast. We also had some delicious Japanese green tee and were given instructions on how to properly drink it. While we sat there, we were treated with another display of oozing happiness shared by Hiromi and Setsuko. Again my eyes teared up.
At 10 o’clock, Hiromi, Naida, and I crossed the street and entered the Nepenthe Clubhouse for the Saturday Morning Coffee. I will leave off describing the coffee because it was like it always is except that Hiromi had a wonderful time talking with everyone, taking photographs, and even helping out. At one point, she came up to me and said, “I love it here. Everyone is so nice.”
After the coffee we returned to Setsuko’s house, ate more of the lunch, drank more green tea and talked. Eventually Hiromi and I left to go to Sacramento State to pick up Amanda after her week at the Girls Governance event.
On the way back Amanda told us about some or her experiences at the conference. We returned to Setsuko’s house, picked up Naida, drove home and we all took about a two hour nap.
From upper left clockwise: Jason and I after they arrived; Naida and I at the Saturday Morning Coffee; Amanda leaving the conference; Amanda and he friends at the conference; Naida and Amanda begin preparing dinner.
Jason returned from his golfing expedition. He and I left to go to take a dip in the hot tub, leaving Naida to begin dinner with Hiromi. Amanda remained asleep. We returned and ate a magnificent Sea Bass dinner prepared by Naida from a recipe she found somewhere. Then Jason, Hiromi, and Amanda left to return to San Francisco and I went to walk the dog.
From upper left clockwise: Jason in the Jacuzzi; Naida and Amanda bring out the dinner; Amanda by the table; Us at dinner; Naida and Amanda say goodby; Me and Amanda before she gets in the car to leave for San Francisco.
When I returned, Naida was at the piano playing Loch Lomond (“The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond”). She told me a story about her grandmother:
Elizabeth Syman was born in Scotland in the ancient city of Perth, “The Gateway to the Highlands. She grew up and attended Edinburgh University, rare for a woman at the time. She had a boyfriend and they were deeply in love. After, graduation with a degree in teaching, she discovered there were very few jobs available to her as most teaching positions were held by men and if any positions were available for women the pay, if they got paid at all, was negligible. She discovered that the best paying jobs in the world for teachers at the time was in the US and the best of those were in Utah. There being no other family members living in her town at that time, she decided to emigrate. The day before she was to leave for Manchester to catch the boat to the US she and the boy she was going to leave bought a pair of kid gloves, one of the gloves for her to keep and one for him. She kept that glove in a drawer in her bedroom for the rest of life. Also, that same day before she left Scotland forever, the two of them spent the day walking along the banks of Loch Lomond.
By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond,Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.O ye’ll tak’ the high road, and I’ll tak’ the low road,And I’ll be in Scotland a’fore ye,But me and my true love will never meet again,On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.‘Twas there that we parted, in yon shady glen,On the steep, steep side o’ Ben Lomond,Where in soft purple hue, the highland hills we view,And the moon coming out in the gloaming.
Later, Naida showed me a photograph of the family and described how they all died.
Naida edited and published a fascinating book written by one of her uncles entitled Symon’s Daughter. Before, going to bed Naida read to me from the book. It was both fascinating and horrid. They were very religious. The father was a Presbyterian minister. They did not celebrate Christmas.
On Sunday I slept until 4PM. I must have had a busy week.
That’s enough for now.
Papa Joe's Tales, Fables and Parables 