FAMILY SKI TRIP, MOUNT ROSE,INCLINE VILLAGE

Incline Village, Nevada sits on the north side of Lake Tahoe. Living in the Sierra Nevadas we have a choice of what route to take over the passes. Laurie drove Ken, Doug and I up over Highway 88, which she considers the most scenic. Normally at this time of year, snow covered 88 would require chains and could have closures. Lakes were covered with thin ice, and dabs of snow looked painted on the mountain fissures.


Kris came up from Las Vegas. Virginia and Cedric took Highway 80 which is a fast four lane thoroughfare and serves the bigger populations from the Bay Area.
Highway 4 and 108 are my other two favs, but 88 is prettiest.


The first night, we played and noshed.


A little wine, games, and plenty of snacks.

Kris made the observation that Ken has lived at one time or another with all of his siblings. He is currently sharing an apartment with his youngest sister. Both are away from their respective homes for their jobs. Ken is extremely neat and Virginia likes to leave dishes in the sink and clothes hanging over the backs of chairs-til later.  Hmmm!


Virginia taught us this loud, raucous game she learned from her Italian brother-in-law. Fast moving, arms waving, card auctioning, gambling card game, a matter of luck, so the kids of any age have an equal chance of winning one of four pots. Everyone could put in a dollar, two dollars, a per-determined equal amount.  Kris, Theo, Myself, and Austin each won a pot. But the laughter was wonderful.


Laurie brought a pot of chili from home so we had and easy dinner and lots of time to catch up with each other. This was our family Christmas since we couldn't all get together this past December.


On Saturday morning, everyone geared up for skiing, except Doug, Kristanne, Laurie and I. Kristanne is "Lodge Fluff." I'm the photographer and Doug and Laurie stayed behind and played cards and rested. Ken hadn't skiied in 13 years and all but Virginia and Ced had lesson packages that give a price break for skiing.


Laurie and I were thinking we might  do cross country, or maybe snowshoe since neither of us like downhill. There really wasn't enough snow.


Owen gets fitted for his boots.


Virginia, Cedric, Theo and Owen all go at their own pace on different runs. Owen is boarding. Theo is skiing. Skis are shorter and rounder than any I'd ever seen.


Austin, who had never skiied wanted to snowboard because he likes his skate boarding.


The kids lessons were at station one. That bit about falling?


The instructor just came up to him and knocked him over numerous times. Taught him HOW to fall so he wouldn't put his hands out and break a wrist. He had a two-hour morning lesson and a one hour afternoon private lesson. The instructor said Austin was the best student he ever worked with at that age. Kudos!


The "bunny hill" of station one has a tramway up the hill where everyone, kids and adults can practice their newly learned skills.


Ken decided he didn't want to go back to work with a broken anything and Virginia went with him on the bunny slope.

She coached him for a few runs on cutting and stopping and turning before they headed for the lifts.


We all met around lunch time and then everyone went all out on the slopes. Kris and I kept track of spare gear as everyone shed jackets or pants, or whatever. Virginia referred to us as the "mules."  The weather was amazingly warm.


Back at our rental condo, which sleeps 16 people, Cedric made the pies.


Laurie made a beautiful salad. She said she was always salad queen as a child at home.


Ken made kabobs. (He wanted to steal the barbeque pit but it wouldn't fit in the car.



I roasted a turkey breast and we toasted our good fortune and grand gathering.


Kris surprised Doug with a basket of goodies, as in Ben Gay, Anti Diarrheal meds, vitamin container, gas relief, all that over-the-hill stuff because his next birthday will be his 50th.



And we all decided Cedric should give up his science PHD and become a pie chef. I didn't get a picture of his apple pie. Life is not only good but delicious.

TRANSITIONING LIFESTYLES.

Normally, if I'm a member of an organization, I like to contribute  by attending meetings, taking on a job and helping out. Because of my traveling lifestyle, I make it to two or three meetings a year. I enjoy that Len, a club stalwart, is always there to play music while others chat and visit. He learned to play accordion as a child and transferred that to piano and organ. He played When The Saints Come Marching In for me.


Club members are a fun bunch and my dinner partner, Earl Randall, worked in Judge Connit's court, Alameda County,  and knew practically everyone in the Sheriff's Department that I knew, including having met my husband and his best friend Jack Baugh. It is such a small world. The Elks Club Dinner was Wednesday night.


Last night, Suzy and Ron Hayes, invited Karen and I to have dinner with them before I leave today. I could not ask for better neighbors and I treasure them.


Ron and I share similar philosophies of life and we like to rail against our ineffective politicians as in fire them all and start over. I always tease Suzy that I'm going to marry him when she's done with him.


Karen and I usually have one dinner together. I try to see all of my friends when I get home. I managed pretty well this time despite unexpected issues to take care of.  Karen often cooks dinner and brings me a plate to share. She took me out for tacos at Sidewinder, but as close as we are, living in the same house, we didn't manage a sit down dinner together until we got to Suzys.

Today, I leave for Incline Village to have a belated Christmas with my family since not everyone could make it to Calaveras County in December. We've rented a condo and almost everyone skis. Ahh! The card games and cooking together, the loud banter, just seeing everyone under one roof is very precious to me.  Then, transitioning to my rambling life with Jim and leaving the busy chaos of home behind for a while. I'm grateful to have such plenteous choices and two distinct lifestyles.

ABOUT ESOTERIC HEALING.

Meet Maura Grant, a certified massage technician. She does reiki, as well. She and her partner, Cammy, whose last name I didn't get, work on Tom Bell Road in Murphys. The name of their business is Elements, and elements define the Asian basis for peace, happiness, health and balance in everything they do be it healing or gardening or meal planning.


In her treatment room are the sacred elements of earth, fire, water, and air. Plants represent earth, fire comes from lit candles, thankfully, for me, anyway, without perfume. Just pure soft light.


Water cascades from a fountain, and air is all around. I've had massage and acupuncture before my accident.  I know it to be healing, and soothing and a transmitter of peace and tranquility. Reiki sort of astounds me. How does the heat just emmanate into their hands?  When Maura gently pressed my chest I could feel the heat in my heart and penetrate to my  back muscles. Margaret Hornick, from Arnold also has that unique talent. Heat just flows from her hands into your body.


Even Maura's bathroom has earth represented by the stones, water is obvious and the candles on the tank are fire.


The two women have a meditation room where they hold meetings, discussions and teach. In each room, all of the elements are present.


There is also a sauna. The blue lights have some significance for healing. I've had many massages since my accident. Residual pain in my neck and shoulders still plague me. Some practitioners call it "memory pain."  Debbie Selleck from Angels Camp has really helped me, as well as Margaret and now Maura. Each time, I think, ahh, I'm so close to well, this will be the last massage I will need.
It never seems to completely take away pain, but I'm getting well in small increments.  My weak arm is a bit stronger, the pain is lessened. (Stress makes it worse.)   Every massage I've had, the premises have those same elements, I must add. It isn't unique to Maura and Cammy.  But they carry it out in a beautiful, complete way.

A day earlier, I stopped in to visit my former doctor,  Dr. Ralph Retherford in Tuolumne County.  He is a holistic doctor and also encourages his patients to perform tai chi on a regular basis. He gave me a tape and I found an improvement in my weakened arm with just one evening of practice. I believe by the time I return home from the Motorhome, I will be completely well with esoteric healing.

HAPPY ENDINGS.

Apparently people are crazy about little dogs. My neighbor, Suzy came to see and she decided I should have my picture taken with Pipi, the Pappion. (I've learned how to spell the breed name.) They are named after the Spanish word for butterfly that is Papillion. Pipi it turns out is not a pure bred Pappion, but part Chihuahua, and cute as can be. Darlene Mathews came to pick him up and reported back that he has a new home with a cute Chihuahua female and he immediately felt right at home. He was pretty traumatized by the sudden move and strangeness at my place. Happy ending.


While I was in Stockton, I parked next to this car. Do I see eyelashes I asked myself?


I did. Cute as can be. I wonder if people from other countries like to gussy up their cars to give them personality? And, where do you buy car eyelashes? Too fun.

RECORDING THE WORST.

My brother, Bill, was mediflighted to Mark Twain St. Josephs hospital for open heart surgery. Millions of them are done every year, nothing to it, right?  Omigod. Not unless it is you or someone you know who has the surgery.

He looked wretched and probably will not be happy that I posted his picture strapped to his new buddy, the machine that keeps him heavily monitored. I won't see him again until March.


His daughter, Rena and granddaughter, Amber drove up from Southern California to be with him.


Practically the only thing not hooked to cords was his feet. Rena gave him a foot massage.

Time in the ICU is limited, so we went out for brunch after our visit. The women will return later in the day before heading back to Southern California.


And, my prankster son, Doug, brought him an All Meat Pizza, a bottle of booze, and an appointment with one of those women who hang out on Wilson St. wearing net stockings, commonly called a Ho. Bill was a bit out of it to think it was very funny, not to mention it hurts to laugh. The staff thought it was a gas. We wait until the worst moments and use humor to downplay our anxiety.  And, we are grateful to share what little time we can sneak in, even recording the worst.

THE AMERICAN EXPERIENCE.

About 30 years ago I read about the Abernathy Brothers who at age 10 and 6 rode horseback, by themselves, from Oklahoma to New York. That story intrigued me and rested at the back of my mind as something I'd like to read more about. Life being busy with four active kids, I didn't look to find a book about them. No internet then, either.

Reminisce magazine arrived in my mail yesterday with a picture of the Abernathy Kids, who at age 13 and 9 years old, took that same trip on an Indian Motorbike, 1,750 miles, in 1913. It was under their "Photographs That Celebrate The American Experience."

Wow, say I. I find the book on Amazon.com and having just had credit cards compromised I vowed not to use them on-line anymore. I plunk some money into my Paypal account and get ready to buy the book.

Now, let me tell you about my American Experience.  Amazon won't let you choose Paypal as an option. I worked through their web system, help hints and in the end, greed will out. You can use their personal credit card and be billed, and then, of course, you can pay it on-line. They never give a phone number. And, they will probably never get any business from me.  I already have new credit cards and don't want their exclusive card to use on their exclusive site. I thought maybe they had an account like Paypal where you keep money on hand for purchases. Nope. An hour wasted. I found the book on another book sellers site.

I know I'm getting crotchety.

LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS.

An invitation for lunch from my friend, Paul was a pleasant two hours. We tried to solve all the problems of senior dating. It should be easy, but it isn't. Men want women 20 years younger than themselves, it seems. He had one taker but after nine months of traveling back and forth to southern California, they didn't have enough in common to make it work.

Lunch at Alchemy in Murphys, is to benefit from a wonderful chef. I ordered the white bean chicken stew with shaved lemon parmesan. Delish! Everything I've ever eaten there has been wonderful. Great soups and salads and wonderful entrees.
Paul had salmon and a salad with candied pecans and cranberriers.
They bring you corn bread, but, as you can see, it isn't what you might expect.


In the afternoon, I got a call from a friend that a dog needed rescue from someone who was threatening to take it to the pound. The dog's owner, my friend Anne, died and her caretaker decided she wouldn't caretake the dog until the new owner could come from Oregon and get it. So, off I went and came home with this cute little part papillon. Animal Lovers is trying to find it a home.


I haven't had a dog in about 8 years and it was fun to bond with a dog in need. But, my travel plans are soon. I expect little dogs are much easier to place than men in their 80's.  Both, are gems.

WARM DECEMBER.

A long day yesterday, getting through a colonoscopy, one of those unpleasant procedures we don't like to talk about. My son took me to lunch afterwards in Lodi. It didn't seem like a good idea to carry an expensive camera along with me, but I always have my tiny Canon as a spare. On the way home, I stopped for a haircut and a pleasant visit with friends in Angels Camp, Bill and June Foster. We had a glass of wine and went through their scrapbooks on Turkey and Nepal. The night was so warm, we could sit on their deck and enjoy the moon in our shirt sleeves.
This is December. When I got home, Karen told me the water situation is so drastic, our water company warned we will be water rationing with huge fines, up to $1000 for overages. This weekend I have to decide what plants should be allowed to die by reducing my sprinkling system to half.  I could see it coming.
My friend John Seiferth had a sign from the 1970's during a long-term California drought. It was before I was blogging and I didn't think to get a picture of it.   KEEP IT MELLOW YELLOW. IF ITS BROWN FLUSH IT DOWN. Oh, boy. As my kids used to say. Gross!
I know the drill, shorter showers, curb your garden water, don't water your car, fill your dishwasher full before turning it on. Don't let the water run while brushing your teeth.
I decided I needed to do something soothing so I went through some picture albums.  I like benches, fun signs, barns, mailboxes, birdhouses, artwork, teapots, rugs, quilts, and I take  pictures of stuff  like that wherever I go.


I love this painting so much, I keep a copy of it on my desktop. It was in a Museum somewhere, but I've forgotten where. I was just grateful they allowed me to photograph it.


This is a painting of Rene Wiley's alley series. She has a gallery in Galveston, Texas.


This painting is by Lawrence LeVeque.


This is another of Leveque's. I met the artist and when I bought this painting from him,  I didn't think to take his picture. Darn. He gave me great advice on how to keep your oil paintings healthy. I have a big painting in my dining room I've allowed to get sun damaged. It happens slowly.  It only took sun for a short time each day in the winter. I didn't notice it until the damage was done.
 

I still have medical appointments in the coming days. A mammogram and an echogram, plus never-ending paperwork. From my compromised credit cards, I have to make arrangement for those bills that were automatically drawn from those credit cards. It is easy to forget, until you get that phone call.

TAKING TIME TO CELEBRATE.

A doctor's appointment in Stockton with a cardiologist took five hours with driving time. As my leaving date gets closer, time seems to shrink. The whole week is devoted to medical necessities before I leave so my blog will be sporadic in the days ahead. The bright spot in yesterday was a birthday dinner with friends. Stuart Mast, his wife Delores Quyle, Margot Osborn and Pamela Quyle, friends I missed my last two visits home.


Margot's birthday was January 1st. She is known through out wine country as a wine expert, mistress, extraordinaire. She has that same cache when she visits Sonoma, Napa wine country and everybody loves her.


Stuart and Delores are owners of Bryce Station Winery. They grow and bottle their own estate grapes.  Bryce Station is a young Winery. I'm not sure of the years, maybe  seven or eight, ten? Their wines are wonderful for such young grapes.  I've known them for a long time and didn't think about who makes the wine?  As I was sipping and commenting on how good the wine,  Pamela said, "Of course, Stuart and Delores make their own wines. They sell out quickly." I take them for granted. I always expect the best because this family is talented in so many ways. Delores and Pamela both paint and pot. Art is in the blood. Stuart's, too.


On the opposite side of the table Marlene and Dick Bradford and  Heidi and Malcom. Heidi was also celebrating a January birthday. It was fun to try out the newest restaurant in town, Tortuga, billing itself as serving  Mediterranean specialties.


Marlene sculpts and pots and teaches classes at Quyle Kiln. Her work  adds a different spectrum of clay products at Quyle. She does figures and hands on sculpture that Pamela never attempts,  she readily admits. There is always something new and interesting going on at Quyle, either a wine event with food and music. Always potting and art shows. Wine and art, what a wonderful life. All they need is a bakery and cheese making to have what the poets insist is the best things in life. Well, along with love and friendship.


Heidi was the other January birthday. I believe I met her once before. We were both unsure. She lives part-time U.S. and part-time Germany. She is allergic to cats but inherited one from a neighbor who moved and simply abandoned the cat. She is being very thoroughly trained by this cat and isn't quite aware of it yet as she seeks to comfort its every need. Oh, my! Such fun. The local cupcakes for desert complete with candles? Wonderful.
It was a lovely dinner with lovely people, and when you bring good wine to the table? It is a celebration.

A DOLLARS WORTH OF KINDLING.

At an estate sale, I bought this unusual little side table. It is stained and needs refinishing. I paid $30 for it. It has a crack in a hard to access area near a hinge, but I have a friend who repaired furniture for a living. He is retired now.  I phoned him, asked him to fix it, and left it on my driveway for him to pick up while I was out.
He left the table with a note on it:

Top handle above hinges is broken on both sides. Needs to be glued and clamped.
Vertical leg is split. Needs to be glued and clamped.
Top tray has two splits on both sides, needs two new wood spacers.
Both horizontal rails have to have rails removed. That means trying to remove all four outside plugs without splitting the plugs, about impossible.
It will need twelve new plugs. If the twelve screws are rusted, they will snap.  Call me.

So, I called him and I question can he drill the plugs? Can't the spacers be inserted as two pieces and glued, and so on, with me trying to find a way to redeem my choice, wondering all the while how I could have been so careless and not examined my purchase more carefully.


Then I DID re-examine the table after the phone call.  Bert Sargent is the most incorrigible prankster in the neighborhood, maybe the world. I got a good laugh, brought the table and a bottle of wine and had a laugh filled visit with Bert and Sharon. He is convincing. Their dog was smelling the table and I got this one picture before my battery went dead. Neither picture does the table justice but I'm relieved to know I didn't buy a dollars worth of kindling.