READY FOR FAMILY REUNION.

For the last three days, my son and grandson’s came to help set up for our family reunion. Mason and Stewart sanded chairs to be painted.

Doug discovered a picnic table had cracked and  rotted boards, so he rebuilt it. We know it would be cheaper to toss the stuff and go buy something new, but none of us like to do things that way.

Nothing works as smoothly nor as quickly as you think it will. My truck wouldn’t start and I had to have it towed to the garage in Angels Camp.

The second day, the boys picked gobs of weeds and we went to the dump with a full load. (Truck is back) The rebuilt table is beautiful.

Stewart scrubbed decks, did weed eating, trimmed shrubs among other chores. The jobs the boys did in Las Vegas were easier than working for grandma.

Mason cleaned off the roof, set up the cooler, chased gobs of weeds. He doesn’t like picking weeds, or any of that stuff. But, it gives him an idea of what he doesn’t want to do with his own yard some day. In fact, apartment living is looking very appealing to me at this moment.

By the second and third day, Laurie decided to lend a hand. She primed the chairs. Painted benches and tables and kept everyone hydrated and fed.


Day three, the chairs are looking good. We have two blue, two yellow, two green and two red. And, a matching coffee table. She has some artistic ideas in mind for the chairs as well.

Things got a little easier for the boys,  but not much. Mason uses the compressor to blow up the tubes.

Stewart scrubbed up the trampoline. They moved heavy barrel plants around with a dolly, cut and hauled tons of brush for another dump run today. The boys are heading for Reno for Mason’s college orientation over the weekend. I’m still getting chiropractor treatments and hoping to be well by late July to return to the motor home. We had an outdoor plug to the sprinkling systems clock die just as the temperature hit over 100. This morning at 5 a.m. I was out reprogramming the clock. The new digital clocks are no match for the old mechanical clocks. I have one that has run for 18 years without any trouble, and it can be programmed in two minutes without double glasses, a flashlight and a book.

MOON PARTY GIBBERISH.

Sunday night, I was invited to a moon watching party. My neighbor Jan loves things zany and fun. I showed up in my midnight sweater and yellow moon shirt, I intended to gossip and dish the dirt.

I told them they wouldn't be seeing the moon because I lassoed it and cooked it like a young spring loon.

Through the overcast, we didn't see a star, the moon was cooked or someplace far. But, Jan had a star tied to her fence;  I think we're both evil and must commence- a magic spell.

But, the night was early, we munched and ate dinner and played games for hours, when the hint was for a swim suit the answer was flowers. Becky was jubilant when she guessed one right.  She wanted my hat, but I said, "not without a fight."

I did take pictures of it; not meant for a queen, it is more on the style of a time machine.

A moon at midnight, takes timing and watches, (that's literally watches the hat holds seven.)

It's power was weak, it didn't influence heaven.

As the evening wore on, Cheryl opened her pouch.
An all-seeing crystal and rose, clear and smoky quartz. A geode of sky blue, magic was about.

Cheryl placed them strategically, a gateway to the moon.

Jan and I atoned for our evil sin. May the whole world let the light in..

...and find peace and love, everywhere. And, it works one person at a time, I know, I was there.
Happy Moonday!

SURPRISE VISITOR

 Stephanie Hatchett  was about five years old when her family moved next door to me. She and her older brother Jason and her cousin Shawn often visited me as children and I used to help them with homework assignments. If I gave them a treat, I made them read the labels before they could eat it.  I always encouraged them to think about education and college as a part of their future.

Stephanie was on a memory lane kind of trip, checking out her old school, and her old digs, but her son, Jaylen, was bored. When she stopped at my house, he decided this was a good place to visit, it had a trampoline.

Of course, jumping on a trampoline is hard work and requires a rest.

We went through my junk box to see what Jaylen could find to put on the totem. This is his Woody Allen look.

He eventually gave up one of his car toys and hung it up to share. Stephanie put something of hers on the totem, too.

Jaylen's hands are barely big enough to grasp my camera but he managed to take a credible picture of us. As a young girl I would tell Stephanie to consider college in her future, and that  she was so beautiful she should become a model when she grew up. She did both;  she went to college and worked as the type of  model that is eye candy on music videos. She learned her way around Hollywood, met and partied with famous people and left it all for an ordinary life. It's pretty corrupt, she explained.

Jaylen is a city kid; they live in Pomona, CA. He wanted to explore but was afraid to get too close to the woods. He eventually did it with some prompting. Stephanie is the bakery manager in a Southern California Costco.

My neighbor came out and took our picture. We spent a couple pleasant hours  catching up on family stories. Her family moved away from my neighborhood before Stephanie graduated from High School.

We went to Pizza Plus in Murphys for dinner where you can write or draw on a huge blackboard while waiting for your pizza.

Jaylen got a turn on a video game, but he doesn't have television at home. Smart mom who doesn't let her kid veg in front of a TV. He is wildly imaginative, and smart and it shows.
I didn't recognize Stephanie when she appeared at my door. She said she introduced herself but I didn't hear it. It took me several minutes before I realized who she was. They say you send your children out into the world to see what they become when they return. She isn't my child, but that is how I felt about Stephanie. I was so glad she stopped in to let me know who she became.

BRENTWOOD FRIENDS, THE ARCHIVE.

From everything I read, networking with friends and family is healthy. Meet my high-school friend, Faye Gebo. If I'm lucky, I get to see her about once a year or every other year. I spent Wednesday night with she and her partner, Dave Goodwin.

Her only child, Celeste is like one of those miracle babies, it almost didn't happen. I haven't seen Celeste in about 6 or 7 years. She loves the para-normal, high adventure, nature, and her fur children.

This is only part of the family.

Through Faye's living room window, we watched a parade of jack rabbits, cotton tails, ground squirrels and ducks. They see deer, and infrequent foxes and coyotes, too.

Somehow, I just never tire of watching wildlife of any type.

Dave is an avid golfer, three times a week, at least. We went to his favorite Mexican Restaurant for dinner. Afterward we played a silly game, called "What's Your's Like?" Dave commented, "It brings up topics for conversation," and it did.

On Thursday morning, I made my way to the Alameda County Sheriff's Archive and Museum. Bud Harlan, former deputy sheriff and avid volunteer was discussing the old Harlan Family House with two visiting archivists from Dublin. The house is from Contra Costa County and is on the National Register of Historical Places.  Bud has family records going back to the 1800's from the Livermore Valley.

A third archivist, lost his hearing in an accident, from a blow to the head. Totally deaf, he prefers to use a microphone to talk to people. I've never seen an apparatus quite like his, but it was very comfortable talking to him this way.

The Association President, Bill Rhodes is very good about finding better ways to display our collections. His strength is in the museum end of things. The uniforms, and regalia of all types are here. And, the sign, Fick The Pugs has an interesting story. It is a replica of a butcher paper sign as wide as a building from the 1960's protests in Berkeley. The protestors at that time were much too polite to reverse the P and the F. Now the F word is so common, it amazes me to this day.

During that riot, the deputies were given birdshot and told to reload their rifles and replace the buckshot. But, someone failed to do that, or didn't unload enough of the buckshot and a another protestor sign went up over a building with holes in the windows proving that was the case. The sign, partially hidden reads:  Birdshot?? Bulls_it! Buckshot.

Every time I go, there is something new, or newly placed. The group has made good use of the old, and now rebuilt, guard tower to display items. They electrified the guard tower and will have an old siren and a search light operable for demonstrations when visitors come. The original building did not have electricity. It was electrified later and the light and siren added. The original tower had a sign on the door reading:  "Aim the B.A.R. (Browning Automatic Rifle) away from the Highway when firing at inmates."  That sign was actually original from Camp Shoemaker days. The Sheriff got the property from the Federal Government. There are many stories in this building, some funny, others desperate and still others heroic.  If you know a story about this place, contact me and I'll record it for the archive.

MUSIC IN THE PARK, MURPHYS, CA.

My partners in crime and I decided to attend the Music In The Park last Friday,  put on by volunteers from the Community Club, supported by the merchants and alternately by the Arts Council. Above is left to right, Sue, Janice, Becky and Jan. Everyone brings snacks and drinks and networks with friends.  Or, you can buy dinner from a local caterer and buy wine and soft drinks from the club’s “Hut”.

While you don’t have to be a Community Club Member to enjoy the event, the club invited members to a repast of wonderful hors d’ oeuvres and a free glass of wine preceding the music. The food was so scrumptious  and good, I wasn’t sure I should buy dinner. Now that I’m on the road, I don’t volunteer anymore, I only pay my dues.

Small towns in rural Calaveras County have no city services and the Community Clubs step in to provide garbage service, pay for street lights on Main St. and so on. The volunteers provide an excellent service and I love being a supporter. This woman is a smiling ambassador who makes sure every one is happy. I’m forgoing names because I see so many new faces.

The women pouring wine and drinks from the Hut were so busy I had to grab them in a rare moment to get a picture,.

I’ve worked with Peggy before. She’s been a member for a while, but I think I have them all beat. I’ve been a member since 1979 or 80.

These volunteers sell the drink tickets so those pouring don’t have to fiddle with money and change.

Other members are there to enjoy and have worked in the past like myself. Kind of retired, temporarily anyway.

The music was provided by a group called Sequoia. A mix of lovely folk tunes and original instrumentals, great listening music.

Sometimes the bands that play are very danceable. Not this group. But, Walt Marcus and his wife decided that one lively tune was very danceable and they gave us all a show as they did a lively jig much to the delight of the crowd.

It doesn’t get much more fun than that.

It might look like we are a bunch of drunks, but, not true. Jan is a teetotaler and the rest of us didn’t even finish one bottle of wine. We tried, though. To see all 17 of the photos I took, click the link below.
https://picasaweb.google.com/106530979158681190260/2013614CommunityClubMusicPk