the little house in the 40s…

When you tell someone you live anywhere with an address in Sacramento that has 40 attached to it, the immediate response is, “Oh, the fab 40s!”  Yes, I am renting in the fab 40s, but on the other side of the tracks — the south end of the 40s.  Mind you, the house is beautiful–or will be more beautiful as soon as the dirt from the previous tenants is removed.  Icky.  Don’t even want to go into the sordid crap that was left on the floors, windows and everywhere else.  I did sleep there in my new bed last night, but wondered about the odd fry-up smell in the kitchen when I got up. 

And then, there’s no hot water.  Not just cold water, but the hot water taps are all turned off or something.   My Landwoman will check it out today.  Fridge they bought is to be delivered today as is my washer and dryer.  Going to find a table somewhere and at least one chair so that I don’t have to sit on the bed all the time.

I love where it is…I love that I can drive to work in 5 minutes or walk 10-12 minutes to catch the shuttle to my workplace…I love the back yard garden which is shaded by large, beautiful trees…

It can only get better from here.

later…

waiting for the physical

to take over where the mental has just about given out.  I’m a little disconcerted that my organizational skills seem to have been lost at the bed and breakfast.  Perhaps it was the second massage that did it.  All those toxins released into an unwitting body…all at once.  Yikes! 

Practiced the oboe a while today.  Luckily, I have one good reed and a few so-so reeds for the rehearsal tonight.  Just heard that I will be playing in only two songs out of the whole concert.  Ah, just let me go home (my new place) and relax on the new bed for a bit while I contemplate my oboe embouchure.  When I don’t get a chance to play for a while, I use the sports medicine example of thinking through how it feels, playing some mental music; I’ve actually learned new music that way.  Works like a charm…playing through several times prior to actually picking up the oboe and playing. 

Good grief, I’m fading here.  Homeward.

later…..

Audrey Auld Mezera lives!

She lives in Marin County right now, but is moving to Nashville.  Yes, folks, Nashville.  That was revealed last Saturday night at her show at the Cozmic Cafe in Placerville, CA.  She’s originally from Tasmania.

I heard a song of hers on KVMR one morning on the way to work: Self Help Helped Me.  I was so amused by the lyrics and impressed with the singing and guitar playing that I printed the lyrics and taped them to my file cabinet at work.  At knitting group that week, someone said, “That’s Audrey Auld, isn’t it?”  The following week, she brought several of her family’s cds of Audrey, who is now Audrey Auld Mezera — married a couple of years ago to a bloke who she had met back in Australia over 20 years ago.  He was an American navy guy in whom she had no interest — she liked his buddy.  Guess he liked her, cause they stayed in touch all these years.  So the story goes.

When I saw that she was doing a show just up the hill from here at the Cozmic Cafe in Placerville, I decided to get a couple of tickets and drag someone along with me.  It wasn’t until the fourth person that I actually got a resounding, “Maybe,” as the response.  We were met at the venue by a friend, and the rest is history.

I absolutely love this woman — the way she sings, the way she plays, the wonderful songs she writes, especially the love song she wrote to Mez, her husband.  Look/listen for “Love you like the Earth.”  The version on the cd with Nina Gerber is wonderful.  Audrey has an innocent giggle that is disarming and very charming.  Nothing fake about this lady. 

I will watch her career — she’s now 40 — as she leaves soon for Nashville with all of its hates and loves and miscreants, and will hope that she continues to sing with her lovely pure, sometimes gnarly voice and her determined ways.  It’s been a long time since I’ve heard such a voice in tune and a guitar so in tune.  What a woman!  Thanks to my friends for encouraging me to listen and to go to the concert.

This vid is now 5 years old.  A bit rough, but I still love every second of it.

later . . .

malasadas in sacramento!

Stopped by L&L Hawaiian Barbecue on Broadway the other day to get dinner.  And what to my wondering eyes should appear but the words

DESSERT MALASADAS

10 for $3.95

Oh my . . . good thing I didn’t see the sign before ordering my dinner to go.  My thought was next time I get just the malasadas, which is just what I did yesterday.  Only, I didn’t need 10.  I got through 2, tried to gag down another one, but they were just too powerful. By then, I was nestled in my b&b, it was 8pm or so, and I wasn’t about to go out just to distribute them to friends and family who might be interested.  Knowing they just get icky and hard in the fridge, decided that they would get dumped in the garbage. 

These are tiny ones by Hawaii size which are the only ones I have ever had.  So, my friend, no more searching online for the nearest malasada place that will send a dozen to your house by one day mail.  Go to L&L on Broadway in Sacramento.  They are special.  I won’t be getting any more, but that shouldn’t stop you!

enough pampering . . .

Now, I know it sounds funny, but I’m tired of getting pampered.  Staying at the only combo bed and breakfast and spa in town can only last so long . . . just like my $$.  I qualified for a free massage, so I took the reflexology treatment, and a reduced rate facial so took that.  Of course the massage therapist was so good with the reflexology I had to have a full body massage a couple of days later.  Then I moved into a more upmarket room, and did the 45 minute in-room Jacuzzi yesterday evening, then fell up into bed.  Yes, up into bed — one of those that your butt cheeks just barely can sit on, so you have to either run and jump on to it or do the getting-on-the-big-horsey thing all the while trying to remember which leg to start with.  

The luxury of sleeping on a California king (the bed size, you silly thing) is a total deception; one person can actually get lost in a bed that size, up on stilts, and with what seems to be an inordinate amount of sheets, comforters, spreads — I have six pillows, and that’s under the spread.  Another 5 decorative, non-functional ones hit the floor each night prior to my flying leap.  Oh yeah, the bubbly bath and the glass-walled shower are all within the bedroom.  Designed for ease of movement from one pleasure spot to the next, I guess.  My massage was in a room with one table in it, right next door to the larger room with two tables – couples massages.  Somehow, I think the romance of the place is lost on me, as I stretch my body into a large upper case X trying to reach the far corners of my California king to no avail.

It’s fun.  I have opted to have my breakfast in solitary confinement in my room each morning.  The blueberry pancakes this morning were memorable — couldn’t even finish the fruit plate that comes every morning.  Of course breakfast was at 7 this morning, as I decided to go to work today.  Over the weekend, it was at 8:30 — wow, sleeping in.

My new rental place now won’t be ready until probably late tomorrow evening or Wednesday morning.  Really should go out and get a bed today.  It certainly won’t be one that is above (butt) cheek height, and probably will not be a California king, unless a king comes with it. 

later…

sighs of relief . . .

Good news.  I am homeless … staying in a luxury bed and breakfast/spa until next Tuesday when I am scheduled to move into my new, albeit temporary abode.  I’ve been at the b&b since the 17th.  I’ve had breakfast in my room every morning, and finally last night had a complimentary facial with the usual neck and shoulder massage and a reduced rate ($$ not quality) reflexology treatment – hands and feet preceeded by a scalp massage.  Needless to say at 9pm I finally stumbled into my room and zoned out for quite a while.  Before that, the aesthetician came to my room to view the couple of fabric pieces that I had brought with me to work on.   We had been talking about her art interests during the kiwi/papaya mask part of the facial!  Told her I wanted to lick my face cause it smelled so good.  Planning to schedule a full body massage with the same woman who did the reflexology treatment.  I could get used to this. 

I did wake up long enough last night to call a friend about stuff.  Ever go through those moments of self-doubt — needing validation for one reason or another — when you’re glad you have someone to ask who won’t bite your head off or scream at you, or do those clucking noises with their tongue.  Well, he validated my virtual parking lot ticket and more.  I know I’ve heard it hundreds of times, but this time my perspective had changed which meant a long-awaited sigh of relief from him.  Perhaps I will not have to ask that specific question again.  

Yesterday was finally closing on the house (huzzah!!) which left my legs wobbly and my brain numb.  Such a strange time this is for me.  Tired but greatly energized by the whole affair. 

Today I smile, sigh deeply, and await the future which is already determined.  The person involved knows it’s inevitable but may not be willing to admit the facts.  It will be a short time until things start to heat up . . . it will be unfamiliar territory for both of us.  Stay tuned for periodic updates. 

later . . .

avoidance techniques mastered

Here I sit at the computer keyboard, when I should be completing the task of preparing for my move on Tuesday.  I’ll be in a wonderful, luxury bed and breakfast for 5 or 6 days, absorbing good energy, having a massage or two, a facial, some long soaking baths, and breakfast in bed even on the days I’ll be going to work. 

Last night — well it was actually this morning at 2 or 2:30am when I finally got into my bedroom and then just sat there, thinking of what was to come.  What came to mind was just sitting there taking in all that was there at that moment.  Looking around, I saw the outlines of the lucky bamboo plants I got just before the house sold, the two boxes I took out of the closet yesterday morning, the wind chime hanging inside the curtain, the faint light from the bathroom down the hall, and heard the sounds of KVMR whispering from the radio on the bedside table, the near silent ticking of my alarm clock, and traces of my own heartbeat.

I had taken the evening (and part of the morning) to prepare the purple fabric quilt for transport to the b&b so that I can work on it while I’m there.  Since I finished the borders (found the fabrics at a store on the way back from signing my close of escrow papers yesterday), the brocade backing and warm and natural batting are in place and the edge is ready to be stitched down.  I will take threads, needles, beads, stones (amethyst and hematite for now), and since some places on the piece there are possibly 5 or 6 layers of fabric, I’ll take along a couple of my “jelly” thimbles … the only ones I can wear with any comfort.

Went to pick up 5 boxes last night at Big Lots.  That’s the number I’m allowing myself for the extraneous stuff still left in the kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms and shelves.  Of course, I will repack the fabric, other sewing-related boxes and pottery (boxes awaiting them in the garage already) and stack them ready to be hauled to storage tomorrow, if the rain stops.  Of course, one of those 5 new boxes will be for glazes, brushes and pottery tools.  Just realized how much of the stuff I have in my house will go back to my son’s apartment.  And I have to return the little refrigerator to the friends who loaned it to me — who drug it out of their new barbecue island for me!

I will finish that today.  

That’s it for now.  Audrey Auld lives!

later…

from the sublime to the ridiculous

I remember feeling pretty good yesterday evening.  Woke up this morning with a feeling behind my eyes that reminded me of something unpleasant — sort of like I’d been crying all night.  Wonder what I was doing on the astral……..hmmm.  

Letting go of the past has been interesting.  It does tend to cloud the present and prevent the imaginings of the future.  So many things have been left behind – why do we hang on to those few that we allow to come to the forefront of the mind periodically, letting them permeate our whole being.  There’s something I hadn’t even thought about.  Thinking back.  Is it my imagination or my reality . . . or is my imagination my reality?  I remember an old friend once said something like…………let’s see, everything is imaginary until it becomes non-fiction ……. surely it was more profound than that, but in my current state of mind, distinguishing the two is a chore, so I will abandon all thought that takes more than a whisper of energy.

This is truly a transformational moment – I meant to write transitional, but perhaps I wrote the correct word the first time.  Finally moving away from a place where I spent 7 years of life, from the me who was cluttered with stuff for over 40 years, from the shrouded woman of virtue, from the person who nearly always chose to flee situations. 

This new space I have created is boundless and unusually intruiging.  There are new people, fresh situations, amazing possibilities.  I almost feel like this is a pre-death rant from which I will rise with abundance and clarity.  Then this could also be a dream from which I will awaken to a shocking reality. 

Today, on the Willa.com link, this was my tea leaf reading:

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.  St. Francis of Assisi 

Just for today, don’t rise to the challenge.  Turn the other cheek.  Meet conflict with serenity.  Don’t let others disturb your tranquility.  You are calm, cool, collected.  You are serene.  You are Zen.  You are peace.

I am relieved, and will go forth into the day and get ready to sign my escrow closing documents this afternoon.

John Lennon and I have decided …………….. all you need is love. 

later . . .

a day in the clouds. . .

I’ve left my mind blank for most of the day so far.  It takes a few moments for me to adjust when people come by my workspace for their daily dose of my whatever-it-is-I-have-to-offer-them.  Finding it difficult to refocus.  Someone tells me of an email they have just sent to their boyfriend, and I think of what to have for dinner.  Someone else has an offer on her house, and I think of sitting in my new garden in a week and a half. 

The decision is nearly made about what I will do in the interim — between my house closing escrow and moving into the new place.  There is a very cool bed and breakfast downtown where they also have a spa — so what do you think . . . breakfast in bed and then on to work Thursday and Friday mornings next week, followed by long, soaking baths each day, and perhaps on Friday or Saturday one of their spa packages where we do any number of things such as massage or facial, then on to Placerville on Saturday evening to hear Audrey Auld Mezera in a concert at the Cozmic Cafe.  Just put a couple of tickets on hold.  Yazoo!!  Now just have to find a culprit to haul along with me.  Audrey’s fairly new to me.  I just love some of her songs.  Quite a wit, too.  http://www.audreyauld.com/

Check her out. 

Having a bit of trouble each time I leave my house.  This morning it was thoughts about this being the last Thursday morning I would ever open that garage on the way to work.  Tomorrow, it will be the last Friday, and on and on until I leave there next Wednesday afternoon for good. Argggghhh!  Who would have thought I’d experience separation anxiety over a place I’ve wanted to leave even before I moved in?

Have to practice the oboe again.  Another of my few and far between gigs on the 29th of this month.  At least there will be a couple of rehearsals this time instead of the usual one-off sightreading session the day before or day of the performance. 

Time for me to get on the road again.  Several things to do before the evening’s out.  Still feeling rather blandly alive.  I think it’s because I’m trying to go through stuff at home and am denying myself any art time.  The paperwork has to be done, however, so I will reward myself when I get to the inn/spa next week, and perhaps before that.  I’ll take the purple fabric piece with me to work on.  I love it already, and will be very happy to get back to it.  I’ll surely apply the border, batting and back before I leave the old place. 

Now, it’s time for me to do stuff.

later . . .

Am I dreaming?

Ok honey, get ready for it.  I found a place to live for the next however many months!  A place to work on clay in the laundry room that has a sink and a door from which you can see the lovely back garden, a lovely lot of space for fabric fun (fun?), and lots of room for friends to come and see me do all this stuff and to have some great get-togethers.  The neighborhood is one of the most appealing in this summer-hot city, and is closer to the day job I could well be leaving soon.  The second floor of the house will be undergoing some renovation while I’m there; with that I can deal.  The kitchen has been recently redone — French doors opening on to the patio. A few steps down to another level of patio into a wonderful partially shaded garden for which I will have to do some study about shade loving plants.

I’m sure this house will afford me the time needed to make the decision about where I will land when I move away from here — and it is a limited time, since the owners want to make the transition into this house after the renovations are complete.

There is plenty of space for making music, an exciting prospect.

Now I get to go out and buy a new bed, a sofa and a couple of comfy chairs, and some outdoor stuff.  I think I’ll be outside a lot.  It’s a painter’s garden.   An artist’s garden.  Can you tell I’m happy just thinking about it?

Going to sign escrow closing papers on Friday afternoon.  YES!  Planning for April 17 to be my last night in the house.  My son and his buddy(ies?) will be helping me move; someone just offered the use of a truck for that purpose.  Yippee!  This is so cool. 

Anxious to start doing art in a new abode.  Wondering about the effects it may have on the work.  Will the muse follow?  

later . . .