Shopping for a new one was a nightmare; they are all the same. All of middle America wants fridges that are architectural mazes on the inside (Escher comes to mind) with little drawers here and there, tiny little boxes on the bottom that are slanted at the back, effectively reducing the amount of fresh food you can put in them…with room for six cherries and a head of lettuce. Then there are can dispensers, water dispensers, ice dispensers, teeny glass shelves that can be moved around, but no matter where you move them, you still can’t store a tall bottle of wine. Of course, there’s tons of freezer space. I forgot to mention deep. Americans want deep fridges. Deep. What’s with deep? It’s like sticking your hand into in a cold gopher hole. My broken fridge is deep. I found a whole inedibly-gone-off chicken in the back behind piles of veggies and bread. ”Counter depth” (marketing code for sensibly sized but more expensive) is my choice.

In the end I just did what Marlene did, I bought a fridge made in New Zealand and for the same reason. It is devoid of arrogance. There are no architectural mazes, just shelves and two nicely sized bins and a bottom freezer that makes sense. But when I called today to find out why I didn’t have a delivery date I found that there aren’t any in stock.

“Do you need a loaner?” he asked…the man with the New Zealand fridge. A loaner. I had no idea that such service still existed in the U.S.

Then my dishwasher broke. Just yesterday.

Then my computer died, hence no photos in this blog. It got killed by trojans again. I’m using my Mac mini and all my photos are on the dead drive.

The bathtub faucet broke or rather something inside did because it wont shut off when you turn on the shower.

Then my cell phone died. That was ok with me. It was Verizon. I got too many “missed calls” when I had all bars and the phone in my pocket. I think they don’t like people who wont sign contracts. Why would I sign another contract with them? It would be like buying a pair of shoes that hurt and going back to the store to buy another pair.

The garden irrigation system died too and I have a patio full of plants begging to go into the ground.

And today I had 21 errands and issues to address on my to-do list.

This is why people take drugs. On the plus side, my Sunbeam electric mixer circa 1960 something is still working. So’s my Honda. And the husband.

Bird Nesting on a Door

I’ve been away so long I forgot how to input my photos so that they enlarge…so, don’t bother clicking for the moment. I haven’t been in my blog since March. Home still isn’t quite as sweet as I would like it. My office and back bedroom are filled with the start of my cleaning out project where the “out” never happened. Worse, I’m starting to wonder why I’m blogging.

My sister and I arrived here on February 15th and she started therapy three days  later. The first few weeks were chaotic. We slept in the living room while her room was made ready and we were adapting the house for safety reasons.

Although my garden looked sweet to someone coming from cold, snowy Connecticut, I thought it looked like crap. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and my sister likes it (what? she likes to see a lot of bare dirt?).. .but truly it’s the management that matters most. I wasn’t here in February to prune my roses.  I told them all they just have to make do this year. Pitch in with their best performance despite my neglect.

We have therapy appointments five days a week, doctor’s appointments, tests, shopping, laundry, cooking – I’m cooking for a diabetic and consulting with an expert on insulin – tricky stuff, insulin – doing the therapy homework….there’s just so little time left in the day that me-the-night-owl, who stayed up until two in the morning….I’m in bed by ten.

Brain plasticity is an interesting thing. We take for granted that it’s our brain doing everything for us automatically. When a part blows out, you have to build new motor pathways going the wrong way. An affected limb has to be worked enough to get the signal to the brain, and worked enough again and again to get the brain to retain the information.

Take a step? I never think about it, I just do it. Hold a glass and drink from it.? I just do it. With my sister, we go through the motions time and again training some other part of the brain to take over the job of holding a glass or taking a step. In therapy sessions the therapists stretch all the sticky joints and invent bizarre ways to play with the brain to encourage it to notice it’s got two sides of a body to recognize and control.

Despite the extra work I’m really glad to be home and my sister is happy.

My sister had had a stroke and we discovered, much to our surprise, that she would get more and better therapy here in California. I brought her home to live with us with an overnight stop in Las Vegas to break up the trip. The therapy through Dominican Hospital has been wonderful. We’re working hard. And it’s nice to be back in the spring when the grass is green and the fruit trees are in bloom. Come summer the fields of green will be fields of brown after weeks and months with no rain.

It’s good to be home. Connecticut was cute and full of Yankee charm but weeks in the cold wore me out. Plus, we were out in the countryside where the folks roll up the sidewalks at 9:00 pm. There were many nights when I got lost in the woods trying to get back to my hotel. One night, the only lighted place around was a prison, so I stopped there for directions. In the past I’ve thought about moving back but the vibe is wrong for me.

I hope that soon I’ll have more time to blog regularly.

The O’Neil Cold Water Classic 2009

It was a beautiful dawn over Monterey Bay and that’s the last nice thing I have to say today.

Two years ago we bagged the house, had it filled with a noxious, killing gas to murder the termites, we moved into the Venetian Hotel because we were terrified of the gas and…now we’ve got termites again. Do these things not have any natural predators? They’re laughing at us. (Yes, the termite is a bad photo shop job but what are you going to do with a termite? Plus, I wouldn’t give it a place of  honor in my portfolio, it’s a nasty, voracious house eating critter.)

I wouldn’t have noticed for months but for the bad luck we’ve been having with our new siding and new double pane window in my office. Both of them leak when blustery winds push rain into the south side of the house. The old windows don’t leak. I caulked them myself so maybe that’s why. In any case, I had to wipe the water off the window sill this morning and saw termite poop.  I pulled back the blinds and saw the pin holes up in the window frame. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

I’m not about to spend another $2,600 on a bag job. I’m willing to try the electrocution method although even that is a few hundred dollars. I’m away for the next two weeks though, in Connecticut, so the bugs can wait.

I wouldn’t mind spending another three days at the Venetian except it’s winter and we could be swept away.

It really is an adorable place with the cutest little kitchens, and if you’re lucky a view of the water in summer. In winter, well…just be ready to run if you’re on a ground floor.

After this week’s huge storms the beaches are a mess, what’s left of them anyway. Some roads are still inaccessible, especially those in the mountains.

Despite the termites and the leaks though, I’m glad we live on a piece of flat ground with no mud slinging hillsides anywhere near us. Buildings are starting to fall after this first series of storms, their cliffs undermined by the waves. Rivers of mud run-off are tearing through neighborhoods in San Diego where last year’s fires destroyed all of the plants and trees and there’s nothing left to hold back the soil.

Ok, I’m grateful. I just didn’t think I’d be dealing with termites again so soon.

Golden Gate Park

The Heads having a shower across from the Embarcadero.

I hope Pat’s is still there. The colors sucked me in the door. Breakfast was delicious.

Not only can she cook, she delivers exquisite customer service. Her staff are all on happiness drugs and no matter how crazy it gets, especially at the height of tourist season, they are unflappable.

So here’s my favorite Gayle’s story. It was a dark and stormy night. Really. It was dark when I got home from work, cold and pouring rain.  I found absolutely nothing in the pantry that I could cobble together into a meal. Since I was already wet and now hungry I went back out into the dark and stormy to pick up dinner.

When I got home and unloaded my bag on the counter, I discovered that the string beans were missing. Not a big deal except that I love the way Gayle’s does string beans and I had no veggies.  I called Gayle’s not to complain, just to get a “credit”…it’s an informal thing. If something goes wrong they take care of you.

I didn’t expect the Gayle’s van to pull into my driveway with a delivery of string beans and two free desserts.

So now I’ll talk about applesauce cake. It’s gotten a bad rep in health food stores because when you try to make it healthy (non fat) you get something that’s gluey and tastes like cardboard.  Why bother? Just eat an apple if you want to be healthy.

But if you want your applesauce cake to be moist and tasty, use butter. For an intense apple flavor use dried apples. Cut them up into half inch chunks, cook them in apple cider until they’re soft. Let the liquid reduce to a nice, sticky sauce. Try adding this to your favorite recipe. You wont be sorry.

I just finished “My Life in France” and I wish I had known years ago that Julia and Paul had the marriage of the century. They were so much in love and so well suited to one another. Love and butter. That’s all you need.