We haven't been doing full walks on our path recently because it's been so hot. Yesterday morning we walked partway on the path. Surprisingly, there was a small group of teenagers sitting on the path, between Norma and Downs. I was a little uneasy approaching them, because you never know what teenagers might do. However, this is such a dusty little town, so religious, so well-educated. I thought to myself, I'll bet nothing will happen. As we approached the group I could see that it was 2 boys and 2 girls, all dressed a little bit punk, whatever punk is called these days. I expected to see cigarettes, but there were none. They were just sitting there. I felt a pang, to think of Baby A and Baby B doing something like that someday. As the boos and I went past, none of the teens acknowledged our existence, except that I heard one of the boys singing softly "Kumbaya my lord, kumbaya." I suspect they might have been just a little stoned. Seemed rather funny. I remember being that age.
Today we took an even more abbreviated walk because it hit 90 degrees before we even left the house. We were walking down Bataan, which is a couple blocks from our house, and up ahead I saw an odd bird. It looked like a Roadrunner, but I thought, no, a Roadrunner wouldn't be on the sidewalk, it must be a Great-tailed Grackle. But no, it was indeed a Roadrunner. As we got closer, it ran into someone's yard, then up on a fence, and then up on the roof! We got a really good look at it until it ran over the other side of the roof and scared a whole flock of mockingbirds. A Roadrunner is a really goofy looking bird.
Then on our way back, on the path, I saw a bird flying and it looked different from the usual group of doves and finches and sparrows. I have started bringing binoculars on our walks, so I pulled them out and looked at it. I believe it was an American Kestrel! But it seemed darker than the ones I'm familiar with. I wonder if there's a desert version?
So despite the awful heat, some interesting bird life out there. No stoned teenagers today, it must have been too hot even for them.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
109 degrees
For the last two days it's gotten to 109 degrees here. Even with that old "dry heat" thing, 109 degrees is hot. The last few years it's gotten to 115 or 116 a few times during the summer, usually in July, so we're approaching the summer max. That's kind of a relief, knowing that it's probably only going to get about 7 degrees hotter. Although 109 is horrible, it's bearable if you stay inside or on a shady patio and don't move much. Of course, try telling that to the boos, who insist on running around the backyard. Their little cheeks get so red from the heat and when I bring out cups of water, they guzzle them.
Saturday night was the monthly "Wine Walk" in downtown Ridgecrest. Many of the businesses stay open late and offer wine to passersby. You have to buy a specially decorated wineglass at any of the stores offering them, and they give you a wristband that says you've paid and you're old enough to drink. We actually went out to dinner first, then took the boos home and bathed them and put them in their sleepers -- and then went out with them to the Wine Walk around 7:00 pm, because it was just so bloody hot. And it hadn't even gotten to 109 that day, only 108 or 107 I believe. We had one small glass of wine each, unlike our fellow Ridgecrestians who were filling up their glasses at every store. But I did buy some scone mix and jam at one store and a (used) book by Kate Atkinson at Ridgecrest's one (independent) bookstore, Red Rock Books.
The town seems quieter to me now, and I imagine it's because people are heading out on vacation. Have I mentioned the plethora of RVs in Ridgecrest? They are just everywhere. Many people have special RV parking areas on their property. Obviously the thing to do if you live in the Mojave Desert is LEAVE during the hot weather. It must be rough on all the little businesses, who don't have enough patrons to begin with.
We're getting ready to head on out of here too. The boos and I are going up to northern California for 3 weeks, starting with 4th of July weekend. Rocket Boy will escort us up there and then come back and work and enjoy the peace and quiet (and heat) (and cockroaches). I'm looking forward to my time away from here, but I wonder what it will be like to come back afterwards. Will it be a relief, coming back to my own stuff, and having our little family all together again? Or will it be a nightmare, leaving the cool greenness of the north to return to my own private little hell on earth? I hope it's the former. I hope I have a really wonderful time away and then it's OK to come back.
Saturday night was the monthly "Wine Walk" in downtown Ridgecrest. Many of the businesses stay open late and offer wine to passersby. You have to buy a specially decorated wineglass at any of the stores offering them, and they give you a wristband that says you've paid and you're old enough to drink. We actually went out to dinner first, then took the boos home and bathed them and put them in their sleepers -- and then went out with them to the Wine Walk around 7:00 pm, because it was just so bloody hot. And it hadn't even gotten to 109 that day, only 108 or 107 I believe. We had one small glass of wine each, unlike our fellow Ridgecrestians who were filling up their glasses at every store. But I did buy some scone mix and jam at one store and a (used) book by Kate Atkinson at Ridgecrest's one (independent) bookstore, Red Rock Books.
The town seems quieter to me now, and I imagine it's because people are heading out on vacation. Have I mentioned the plethora of RVs in Ridgecrest? They are just everywhere. Many people have special RV parking areas on their property. Obviously the thing to do if you live in the Mojave Desert is LEAVE during the hot weather. It must be rough on all the little businesses, who don't have enough patrons to begin with.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Maggots
Yes, maggots. Ridgecrest has so many opportunities to observe wildlife, I just would never have suspected. One horrible day in Boulder we found maggots under the tray that holds the cats' dishes, so I guess you can have them anywhere. But here in Ridgecrest we have them all the time.
The first time we saw a lot of them, we realized they were coming from underneath the trash. We had bought a new tall kitchen garbage can to keep the twins out of the garbage, but we didn't realize that it had an opening at the bottom. Even though we were using plastic garbage sacks, there must have been food falling down around the sacks, or holes in the sacks or something. Anyway, we had a LOT of maggots down there. So we switched to a simple plastic garbage can that we could hang on the wall.
In Colorado we had compost bins in the backyard, and we dumped all our non-meat food garbage in them (and put our meat garbage in the freezer until garbage pick-up day), so our garbage can held mostly plastic. But here in our rental house in Ridgecrest we don't have a compost bin, and the babies waste a lot of food (throw it on the floor, etc.), so we are always throwing food in the garbage. It takes a long time to fill up the garbage can, and it gets very hot in the kitchen, so the garbage can (which doesn't have a good lid) is a fly's paradise. Also, we have a LOT of flies. Sometimes there will be 30 flies sitting in the bay window in our kitchen. It's hard to swat them, because I can't reach all the way into the bay window, so Rocket Boy goes outside and takes the screen off the window, and I swoosh them towards the opening with the (otherwise useless) fly swatter. But we only do that every few days. Meanwhile, when I'm not looking the flies are presumably laying eggs in the icky garbage.
All this leads to maggots. This morning (garbage day), I took the sack of garbage out to the big bin in the street. A few minutes later Rocket Boy started finding maggots on the floor. Did they somehow leap from the garbage bag as I was tying it shut? Can maggots leap? They have no legs, according to a maggot website I found (http://www.howtogetridofstuff.com/pest-control/how-to-get-rid-of-maggots/). (Isn't the Internet wonderful? There are good cockroach websites too.)
Whether or not they can leap, maggots can move very fast. Apparently they are looking for a moist place to form a pupa and then hatch into a fly. (It is not moist in our house! This is the desert! 10% humidity or less!) We found them all over the kitchen, the dining area, the living room, down the hallway. We were frantically sweeping them up, then dumping them on the front lawn (where we also dump our cockroaches). The babies were "helping" by crawling all over and probably eating what they found.
At least, according to the maggot website, eating a maggot will probably not harm you.
Our new plan is to use the disposal more, don't let food sit around in the garbage can for days, buy a new garbage can with a lid, get rid of flies as soon as we see them, and hunt for these "moist places" where the maggots are forming pupas.
One of Rocket Boy's colleagues thinks they should get "hazard pay" for living out here. Sigh.
The first time we saw a lot of them, we realized they were coming from underneath the trash. We had bought a new tall kitchen garbage can to keep the twins out of the garbage, but we didn't realize that it had an opening at the bottom. Even though we were using plastic garbage sacks, there must have been food falling down around the sacks, or holes in the sacks or something. Anyway, we had a LOT of maggots down there. So we switched to a simple plastic garbage can that we could hang on the wall.
In Colorado we had compost bins in the backyard, and we dumped all our non-meat food garbage in them (and put our meat garbage in the freezer until garbage pick-up day), so our garbage can held mostly plastic. But here in our rental house in Ridgecrest we don't have a compost bin, and the babies waste a lot of food (throw it on the floor, etc.), so we are always throwing food in the garbage. It takes a long time to fill up the garbage can, and it gets very hot in the kitchen, so the garbage can (which doesn't have a good lid) is a fly's paradise. Also, we have a LOT of flies. Sometimes there will be 30 flies sitting in the bay window in our kitchen. It's hard to swat them, because I can't reach all the way into the bay window, so Rocket Boy goes outside and takes the screen off the window, and I swoosh them towards the opening with the (otherwise useless) fly swatter. But we only do that every few days. Meanwhile, when I'm not looking the flies are presumably laying eggs in the icky garbage.
All this leads to maggots. This morning (garbage day), I took the sack of garbage out to the big bin in the street. A few minutes later Rocket Boy started finding maggots on the floor. Did they somehow leap from the garbage bag as I was tying it shut? Can maggots leap? They have no legs, according to a maggot website I found (http://www.howtogetridofstuff.com/pest-control/how-to-get-rid-of-maggots/). (Isn't the Internet wonderful? There are good cockroach websites too.)
Whether or not they can leap, maggots can move very fast. Apparently they are looking for a moist place to form a pupa and then hatch into a fly. (It is not moist in our house! This is the desert! 10% humidity or less!) We found them all over the kitchen, the dining area, the living room, down the hallway. We were frantically sweeping them up, then dumping them on the front lawn (where we also dump our cockroaches). The babies were "helping" by crawling all over and probably eating what they found.
At least, according to the maggot website, eating a maggot will probably not harm you.
Our new plan is to use the disposal more, don't let food sit around in the garbage can for days, buy a new garbage can with a lid, get rid of flies as soon as we see them, and hunt for these "moist places" where the maggots are forming pupas.
One of Rocket Boy's colleagues thinks they should get "hazard pay" for living out here. Sigh.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Summer is really here
It got to 102 today, and it's predicted to be 100 or more on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday (106), and I'm sure by tomorrow they'll be predicting it for next Wednesday as well. Of course it's a dry heat, only 10% humidity or less. But it still just saps my energy. All I want to do is lie around.
To cheer myself up these days, I look at the predictions for Death Valley (Furnace Creek). It's going to be 111, 111, 105, 109, 112, 113, and 110. But of course it's a dry heat.
Even though it was 100 or more all afternoon, the babies and I spent some time outside. I just get so bored being in the house all the time. Our walks aren't as fun anymore because it's so hot even at 8am -- I rush down the path and back, feeling guilty because I'm making the babies too hot. Today there was an old man wearing overalls on the path with his dog. He greeted me and said "Nice weather today." I smiled.
Anyway, after the babies' afternoon nap, I let them run around on the back patio, which is big and well shaded. They were wearing onesies, short overalls, and sandals. For their snack, I brought out a bowl of yellow cherries. The babies rushed over to see what it was. It is so mind-blowing to watch their reaction to fruit. Fruit is like candy to them, because they don't know about candy. They've never had chocolate, or maybe just a dab off someone else's spoon. They had cake and ice cream on their birthday, but it was white cake and vanilla ice cream. Other than that, we don't give them sweets yet. So fruit is it, and they adore fruit. If we have a crate of strawberries in the fridge, every time I open the door, they rush in to grab a berry. They love peaches, apricots, bananas, blueberries. It's a pain to give them cherries, because I have to remove the pit, but it's worth it to see their faces. I'm sitting there with the bowl of cherries, and their little hands are all over me, trying to grab a cherry, while I'm frantically digging pits out of cherries and passing them out.
Times like these, I wonder what it would be like to have triplets.
Anyway, there we were on the patio, gorging ourselves on yellow cherries, it's 101 degrees, bright sunshine, the grape vine and the pomegranate vine twining over the patio posts, and the yard was full of baby mockingbirds. I'm pretty sure they were babies, because they seemed smaller than the mockingbirds we usually have, plus they were making a lot of noise and opening their mouths, as if calling to a parent to feed them. It crossed my mind that a possible word to describe the scene was "idyllic."
To cheer myself up these days, I look at the predictions for Death Valley (Furnace Creek). It's going to be 111, 111, 105, 109, 112, 113, and 110. But of course it's a dry heat.
Even though it was 100 or more all afternoon, the babies and I spent some time outside. I just get so bored being in the house all the time. Our walks aren't as fun anymore because it's so hot even at 8am -- I rush down the path and back, feeling guilty because I'm making the babies too hot. Today there was an old man wearing overalls on the path with his dog. He greeted me and said "Nice weather today." I smiled.
Anyway, after the babies' afternoon nap, I let them run around on the back patio, which is big and well shaded. They were wearing onesies, short overalls, and sandals. For their snack, I brought out a bowl of yellow cherries. The babies rushed over to see what it was. It is so mind-blowing to watch their reaction to fruit. Fruit is like candy to them, because they don't know about candy. They've never had chocolate, or maybe just a dab off someone else's spoon. They had cake and ice cream on their birthday, but it was white cake and vanilla ice cream. Other than that, we don't give them sweets yet. So fruit is it, and they adore fruit. If we have a crate of strawberries in the fridge, every time I open the door, they rush in to grab a berry. They love peaches, apricots, bananas, blueberries. It's a pain to give them cherries, because I have to remove the pit, but it's worth it to see their faces. I'm sitting there with the bowl of cherries, and their little hands are all over me, trying to grab a cherry, while I'm frantically digging pits out of cherries and passing them out.
Times like these, I wonder what it would be like to have triplets.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Driving up 395
Around 11am today, the babies were yelling and it was getting hot, and Rocket Boy and I looked at each other and said, "do you want to go somewhere?" We considered driving the 114 miles to Bakersfield to go to Trader Joe's, but it seemed too late in the day already. Then I suggested, "let's just drive up Highway 395 and see what it's like." So we did that. We headed for Lone Pine, which careful readers of this blog will remember as the place that last weekend's houseguests drove from in a very short time. Only 83 miles away!
One nice thing about Ridgecrest is that even though it's in the middle of nowhere, it's not TOO far away from a lot of places, such as National Parks (Death Valley, Sequoia, King's Canyon), and other states (Nevada, Arizona, Utah). It's also near a whole lot of wide open spaces, seeing as how it is itself a wide open space surrounded by wide open space.
Highway 395 from Ridgecrest to Lone Pine involves a lot of wide open space. Also a lot of really big mountains, but I found them a little depressing. They are so dry, so barren. Mountains in the desert are different from mountains in semi-arid areas like Colorado. Also, it was the Sierra Nevada we were driving past (to the west of us), but the eastern Sierra Nevada is very different from the western side (which is gorgeous).
We drove through a few little towns, so little that it was hard to call them towns. Coso Junction, Olancha, Cartago. Who LIVES in these places and how do they make it through the days? I have quite a lot more sympathy for the residents of such towns now. Though of course Ridgecrest isn't really a small town, it has more than 25,000 residents. What must it be like to live in a truly small town in the middle of nowhere, a town with no library? I simply can't imagine it. I hope they live there because they like it, not because they have to.
In Lone Pine we had a snack at a little restaurant with no other customers. There were four kinds of pie on the menu and two kinds of muffin, but in truth, they had only one of each. So RB and I both had cherry pie and the babies split a banana nut muffin.
Then we took the Whitney Portal Road west to the base of Mt Whitney, where people start to climb the mountain. That was very interesting. On the map, the Whitney Portal Road looks like this short straight road west. It isn't. It climbs approximately 5000 feet in just a few miles. It winds, it switchbacks, it changes from bare desert to, basically, Yosemite, except it isn't Yosemite, it's a little ways east of Sequoia National Park, but same difference. When we reached the Whitney Portal, it was packed! So many cars, so many people milling about. People getting ready to climb, people who had just finished climbing, people who wanted to see the base of Mt Whitney I guess. People like us, who just wanted out of the heat.
My heart ached. All around us were slim, fit people in hiking clothes. People who had been shopping at REI or the North Face. People who knew how to lace up a pair of hiking boots. People who THOUGHT HIKING WAS FUN. People who would RATHER HIKE THAN GO TO WALMART. In other words, we were probably the only Ridgecrest residents there. I saw a middle-aged couple eating some interesting food that they brought out of a Trader Joe's bag. "Which Trader Joe's did you get that from?" I wanted to ask. The couple did not look like they lived in Bakersfield. They had a serious, private, look to them, that look that says "we have several advanced degrees and we belong to the Sierra Club." As Rocket Boy said, there were probably no bumper stickers in that parking lot that said "Obummer."
Well, I shouldn't complain. It's nice to know that a place like that, with people like that, is so close to us. Only 83 miles away! I told the babies, "Someday you can come back and climb this mountain!" And that's a nice thing to look forward to.
One nice thing about Ridgecrest is that even though it's in the middle of nowhere, it's not TOO far away from a lot of places, such as National Parks (Death Valley, Sequoia, King's Canyon), and other states (Nevada, Arizona, Utah). It's also near a whole lot of wide open spaces, seeing as how it is itself a wide open space surrounded by wide open space.
Highway 395 from Ridgecrest to Lone Pine involves a lot of wide open space. Also a lot of really big mountains, but I found them a little depressing. They are so dry, so barren. Mountains in the desert are different from mountains in semi-arid areas like Colorado. Also, it was the Sierra Nevada we were driving past (to the west of us), but the eastern Sierra Nevada is very different from the western side (which is gorgeous).
We drove through a few little towns, so little that it was hard to call them towns. Coso Junction, Olancha, Cartago. Who LIVES in these places and how do they make it through the days? I have quite a lot more sympathy for the residents of such towns now. Though of course Ridgecrest isn't really a small town, it has more than 25,000 residents. What must it be like to live in a truly small town in the middle of nowhere, a town with no library? I simply can't imagine it. I hope they live there because they like it, not because they have to.
In Lone Pine we had a snack at a little restaurant with no other customers. There were four kinds of pie on the menu and two kinds of muffin, but in truth, they had only one of each. So RB and I both had cherry pie and the babies split a banana nut muffin.
Well, I shouldn't complain. It's nice to know that a place like that, with people like that, is so close to us. Only 83 miles away! I told the babies, "Someday you can come back and climb this mountain!" And that's a nice thing to look forward to.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Summer is here
It got to 103 today. I guess summer is here, though it doesn't officially arrive until Sunday. We've had a lovely month or so of 80s every day, but it had to end sometime. The boos and I took our walk a little late today, it was almost 8:30am when we left the house, and when we reached the digital sign on China Lake Boulevard it read 87 degrees at 8:57. I shouldn't be out with the babies when it's that hot. What am I going to do when it gets even hotter?
We've started going for walks after dinner, the whole family (but not the kitties). I think we are trying to recreate our family walks in Boulder, with Martin Park 3 blocks from our house and Cafe Sole maybe half a mile beyond that. Unfortunately there's no park or coffeehouse near our house in Ridgecrest, so we mostly walk to Albertson's, where Rocket Boy buys a bottle of iced tea. Well, it's something.
Tonight we were walking down our street and I saw a dog up ahead, a pit bull, looking at us. Then it turned the corner and ran away. When we got to the next cross street, I could see it still running. It didn't seem to belong anywhere. I hoped it hadn't gone mad in the heat (does that really happen?). We continued on and then we saw another dog just trotting along toward us. This was a big fluffy dog, maybe part husky. But it had people trying to catch it, calling to it, running after it. It ignored them until it reached us and gave us all a good sniff. Then it went home with its owner, a middle-aged man with a ponytail, wearing a shirt that said something like "Gitmo -- America's paradise" and a picture of a swimming pool. I was puzzling over the shirt, trying to understand the point, and then I noticed a bumper sticker on the man's car that said "Obummer." Oh. Sigh.
We continued on our walk and we passed a house that had cars covered with bumper stickers: "Vote Yes on Prop. 8" "Pray to End Abortion" "Every Fourth Child is Murdered by Choice." Sigh.
For some reason this all made me think of my favorite bumper sticker from back home. It was "Nederland, Colorado: A dog in every Subaru." No politics, really, just dogs and Subarus in my sweet Rocky Mountain paradise that I miss so very much.
The wind kicked up and we walked home with difficulty. I get so tired of that wind. At least the temperature had dropped (it was in the 80s).
They say it cools down by late October.
We've started going for walks after dinner, the whole family (but not the kitties). I think we are trying to recreate our family walks in Boulder, with Martin Park 3 blocks from our house and Cafe Sole maybe half a mile beyond that. Unfortunately there's no park or coffeehouse near our house in Ridgecrest, so we mostly walk to Albertson's, where Rocket Boy buys a bottle of iced tea. Well, it's something.
Tonight we were walking down our street and I saw a dog up ahead, a pit bull, looking at us. Then it turned the corner and ran away. When we got to the next cross street, I could see it still running. It didn't seem to belong anywhere. I hoped it hadn't gone mad in the heat (does that really happen?). We continued on and then we saw another dog just trotting along toward us. This was a big fluffy dog, maybe part husky. But it had people trying to catch it, calling to it, running after it. It ignored them until it reached us and gave us all a good sniff. Then it went home with its owner, a middle-aged man with a ponytail, wearing a shirt that said something like "Gitmo -- America's paradise" and a picture of a swimming pool. I was puzzling over the shirt, trying to understand the point, and then I noticed a bumper sticker on the man's car that said "Obummer." Oh. Sigh.
We continued on our walk and we passed a house that had cars covered with bumper stickers: "Vote Yes on Prop. 8" "Pray to End Abortion" "Every Fourth Child is Murdered by Choice." Sigh.
For some reason this all made me think of my favorite bumper sticker from back home. It was "Nederland, Colorado: A dog in every Subaru." No politics, really, just dogs and Subarus in my sweet Rocky Mountain paradise that I miss so very much.
The wind kicked up and we walked home with difficulty. I get so tired of that wind. At least the temperature had dropped (it was in the 80s).
They say it cools down by late October.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A new kind of spider!
New to us, that is. I'm sure they've been around for eons. They're called sun spiders and they are found in deserts all over the world. (Look them up on Wikipedia!) They are not a true spider, but rather another kind of arachnid, like scorpions. They LOOK like scorpions (kind of). They are large and orangey and last night we saw one go running across the back patio (another reason never to go outside after dark). But that wasn't the first time we'd seen one. Rocket Boy found one involved in a black widow spider's web, but it appeared that the sun spider had actually killed the black widow (a battle I am glad I did not witness). There were black widow spider parts lying around. Anyway.
I mustn't think about this too much or I won't be able to go to sleep.
Today was library day, Thursday, but we didn't make it there until mid-afternoon. The boos are so interested in the library now, that I really can hardly spend a moment looking for books for myself. They just yell the whole time, because they want to go to the children's section. It's OK. I'm very pleased that they like the library. I do too. To make future trips easier, I have requested 3 more books, so they will be winging their way toward me soon (and then I don't have to hunt for them in the stacks, they're just waiting for me at the desk when I check out). I realized when I requested the books that it is actually all libraries in the San Joaquin Valley that are linked together -- not just Kern County. It includes Fresno County, Tulare County, and maybe more. A whole lot of tiny little libraries all working together. Honestly, it doesn't matter where you live, libraries are just wonderful.
I mustn't think about this too much or I won't be able to go to sleep.
Today was library day, Thursday, but we didn't make it there until mid-afternoon. The boos are so interested in the library now, that I really can hardly spend a moment looking for books for myself. They just yell the whole time, because they want to go to the children's section. It's OK. I'm very pleased that they like the library. I do too. To make future trips easier, I have requested 3 more books, so they will be winging their way toward me soon (and then I don't have to hunt for them in the stacks, they're just waiting for me at the desk when I check out). I realized when I requested the books that it is actually all libraries in the San Joaquin Valley that are linked together -- not just Kern County. It includes Fresno County, Tulare County, and maybe more. A whole lot of tiny little libraries all working together. Honestly, it doesn't matter where you live, libraries are just wonderful.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
What Ridgecrest needs
This is an endlessly productive conversation topic for Rocket Boy and me. What does Ridgecrest need? The list is so long. Ridgecrest needs a Target. Ridgecrest needs a Trader Joe's. Ridgecrest needs a good department store, such as Macy's, or maybe we could even resurrect Mervyn's. Ridgecrest needs a Jamba Juice or other juice place. Ridgecrest needs a Peet's and/or some more independent coffeehouses. Ridgecrest needs a bigger library. Ridgecrest needs curbside recycling (it's coming!). Ridgecrest needs a Twins Club. Ridgecrest needs more stoplights instead of stop signs. Ridgecrest needs more places to walk and more places to walk to.
Recently I've decided that Ridgecrest needs a Unitarian church. I have never actually attended services at a Unitarian church, nor have I ever had the desire to join one. I know a number of people who go, or have gone, to the Unitarian church in Boulder and I did go to a memorial service there once. But in general, if I am going to go to church, I like to go to a liberal -- but traditional -- church. I like to sit in a pew and have a minister wearing robes go through all the traditional paces, I like to sing traditional hymns, I like to hear a reading from the Bible, preferably the King James Version. And I like for there to be some nice gay families in the pews, and I like to hear all about the upcoming bake sale to raise money for people in Darfur and the Thursday evening lecture series on climate change.
I have never understood the connection between Christianity and conservative politics. There should be no connection. Where is the chapter in the Bible on capitalism?
But in Ridgecrest the connection is real and it is strong. This is a very conservative, very religious town. The LDS church is huge. The Church of the Nazarene is huge. There are several Baptist churches, several Catholic churches. There's every other denomination. I'm not sure there is any other religion, such as Judaism, represented, though I could be wrong. They don't advertise, anyway. The newspaper is unabashedly pro-Christian. One of the main reporters is always quoting from the Bible in her stories. Recently there was an editorial about how all kids should go to Vacation Bible School.
I would like us to join a church, or at least attend one regularly. I'd like the boys to grow up in a church family, belong to the youth group, that sort of thing. I didn't experience that because my father was an atheist, so I know it's possible to grow up just fine without the help of a church. Still, I think it would be a good thing for us, especially since we are so alone out here. But I refuse to join a conservative, anti-gay church. And I don't think there are any "Open and Affirming" churches in Ridgecrest. Recently the newspaper asked a bunch of people what they thought about the decision on Prop 8 and every single person said: "It's against my religion but I do have gay friends..." What religion is this???
Thus the solution: a Unitarian church. I wonder what it would take to start one? Probably more energy than I have right now, but I'll bet we're not the only people here who would attend.
Recently I've decided that Ridgecrest needs a Unitarian church. I have never actually attended services at a Unitarian church, nor have I ever had the desire to join one. I know a number of people who go, or have gone, to the Unitarian church in Boulder and I did go to a memorial service there once. But in general, if I am going to go to church, I like to go to a liberal -- but traditional -- church. I like to sit in a pew and have a minister wearing robes go through all the traditional paces, I like to sing traditional hymns, I like to hear a reading from the Bible, preferably the King James Version. And I like for there to be some nice gay families in the pews, and I like to hear all about the upcoming bake sale to raise money for people in Darfur and the Thursday evening lecture series on climate change.
I have never understood the connection between Christianity and conservative politics. There should be no connection. Where is the chapter in the Bible on capitalism?
But in Ridgecrest the connection is real and it is strong. This is a very conservative, very religious town. The LDS church is huge. The Church of the Nazarene is huge. There are several Baptist churches, several Catholic churches. There's every other denomination. I'm not sure there is any other religion, such as Judaism, represented, though I could be wrong. They don't advertise, anyway. The newspaper is unabashedly pro-Christian. One of the main reporters is always quoting from the Bible in her stories. Recently there was an editorial about how all kids should go to Vacation Bible School.
I would like us to join a church, or at least attend one regularly. I'd like the boys to grow up in a church family, belong to the youth group, that sort of thing. I didn't experience that because my father was an atheist, so I know it's possible to grow up just fine without the help of a church. Still, I think it would be a good thing for us, especially since we are so alone out here. But I refuse to join a conservative, anti-gay church. And I don't think there are any "Open and Affirming" churches in Ridgecrest. Recently the newspaper asked a bunch of people what they thought about the decision on Prop 8 and every single person said: "It's against my religion but I do have gay friends..." What religion is this???
Thus the solution: a Unitarian church. I wonder what it would take to start one? Probably more energy than I have right now, but I'll bet we're not the only people here who would attend.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Monday again
Sometimes on Mondays I'm too depressed to write anything, but this isn't one of those days. I hate Mondays in Ridgecrest, they're so much more depressing than Mondays anywhere else, but I coped today. I was very productive: 4 loads of laundry, meal planning and grocery shopping, balanced the checkbooks and paid bills, even worked (for pay) a little bit. The whole friggin' time I was thinking, "I'd like a cookie." "I'd like some ice cream." "I'd like some of that chocolate chocolate chip pound cake bread that our houseguests brought us." Then I'd do some more laundry. Gad I hate Mondays.
On our walk today we (or rather I) saw TWO Sentry Quail! It was very exciting. One was Original Sentry Quail, with 2 adult females and about 10 mostly grown children. The other was New Sentry Quail, with 1 adult female and about 10 tiny chicks. Pretty soon we will have quail overpopulation issues in our little arroyo. It is a limited space. I wonder what the quail will do when they fill it up. Maybe some would come live in our backyard. Our yard is full of mourning doves, eating something off the ground -- seeds? insects? I expect there's room for a quail family.
I keep thinking about putting out some food for the birds in our yard, not that they seem to be lacking for things to eat. I did buy a bag of seed. But if I put the seed out, rodents will come, and then snakes will come, and then two babies will be bitten by a Mojave Green Rattlesnake and then I will be hauled away by Social Services for endangering them. Thus the bird seed stays in its bag.
It's almost 10pm and that means I can go to bed and read my new novel ("One Good Turn" by Kate Atkinson, due back at the library on Thursday, so must get started). And then Monday will be over and I will have survived.
On our walk today we (or rather I) saw TWO Sentry Quail! It was very exciting. One was Original Sentry Quail, with 2 adult females and about 10 mostly grown children. The other was New Sentry Quail, with 1 adult female and about 10 tiny chicks. Pretty soon we will have quail overpopulation issues in our little arroyo. It is a limited space. I wonder what the quail will do when they fill it up. Maybe some would come live in our backyard. Our yard is full of mourning doves, eating something off the ground -- seeds? insects? I expect there's room for a quail family.
I keep thinking about putting out some food for the birds in our yard, not that they seem to be lacking for things to eat. I did buy a bag of seed. But if I put the seed out, rodents will come, and then snakes will come, and then two babies will be bitten by a Mojave Green Rattlesnake and then I will be hauled away by Social Services for endangering them. Thus the bird seed stays in its bag.
It's almost 10pm and that means I can go to bed and read my new novel ("One Good Turn" by Kate Atkinson, due back at the library on Thursday, so must get started). And then Monday will be over and I will have survived.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Trona
So on Saturday morning we were expecting houseguests later that day, and we hadn't cleaned the bathrooms yet, and then they called from the road around 10:30am. They were in Lone Pine, were going to have lunch, and then they'd come on down Highway 395 to Ridgecrest. So we, in our usual irresponsible way, did not look at a map and instead said "Oh! Lone Pine is hours from here, so they'll probably get here around 4pm at the earliest." And we weren't in a bathroom-cleaning mood. So we decided to go to Trona, see the museum there, and then we were sure we'd be full of bathroom-cleaning energy. Rocket Boy called the museum and found out that they were closing at 12 and would be closed the rest of the month. It takes about half an hour to get there -- so we got ready and went!
(I'm skipping ahead here, but I just want to note that Lone Pine is NOT hours from Ridgecrest, it is 83 miles from Ridgecrest.)
Trona is a very small town about 22 miles from Ridgecrest. It is actually in a different county (San Bernardino), but the two towns are very involved with each other. The Ridgecrest newspaper has a "Trona Page" once a week. Trona, as I read on another web page, is Ridgecrest's whipping boy, and this seems accurate to me. Ridgecrest needs something to feel superior to: ergo, Trona. Trona actually used to be the bigger town, and the hospital used to be there. But now it is just the most pathetic place you can imagine, and so ugly. It is right on the shores of Searles Lake, which is mostly dry, where they extract a variety of minerals (including Trona, which is Na3H(CO3)2.2H2O). As you drive along Highway 178 toward Death Valley, you pass all these ugly buildings and equipment for extracting minerals. Huge piles of salt, or something like that, which no one seems to be doing anything about, because the company that built Trona has abandoned it, and not much mineral extraction goes on anymore, though some does. And then off to the side, the town, which is almost dead, full of abandoned houses (some for sale for very little money!), and supposedly full of meth addicts and producers. It's just awful.
But at the same time, there's another side to Trona. Rocket Boy found out that they have a Gem & Mineral Society, with regular meetings, and since he's interested in that sort of thing, he's been attending them. The meetings are held in conjunction with the Trona Historical Society, and so far the topics have all been historical, but he has high hopes. The meetings are attended by a lot of old people, who strike him as nicer than anyone he's met in Ridgecrest, and who are certainly not meth addicts or producers. One of these people encouraged him to visit the Trona museum, so that's where we headed on Saturday. We packed the babies in the car, along with diapers and snacks and sunscreen, but inconveniently forgetting their stroller, and drove east.
The Trona museum is delightful! First of all, it's free. Secondly, it's big, with I think about 10 rooms of stuff. Thirdly, it's quite interesting and funky, lots of great photos, bits of this and that, even a good collection of Trona High School yearbooks in one room. Certainly better than anything Ridgecrest's got. We were somewhat hampered by having forgotten the babies' stroller, so we were alternately carrying them and then when our arms got tired, chasing after them, and then when our legs got tired -- etc. The babies were SO GOOD at finding the one thing in each room that was both breakable and detachable. But the woman in charge was very easygoing about it all, and the boos didn't actually break anything, though not for lack of trying.
In the gift shop they had mugs and things with a road sign on them that read: "End of the World: 10 miles; Trona: 15 miles." I wanted to buy that one, but was embarrassed, so we bought one with a picture of the Trona Pinnacles on it.
Then we went to a restaurant that's in the old theatre. We were the only customers! And afterwards I felt really sick. But I'm thinking it might have been from my lunch the day before.
And then we went home to clean our bathrooms, only to have our houseguests show up 10 minutes later. As is perhaps glaringly obvious, we didn't want to clean the bathrooms anyway.
(I'm skipping ahead here, but I just want to note that Lone Pine is NOT hours from Ridgecrest, it is 83 miles from Ridgecrest.)
Trona is a very small town about 22 miles from Ridgecrest. It is actually in a different county (San Bernardino), but the two towns are very involved with each other. The Ridgecrest newspaper has a "Trona Page" once a week. Trona, as I read on another web page, is Ridgecrest's whipping boy, and this seems accurate to me. Ridgecrest needs something to feel superior to: ergo, Trona. Trona actually used to be the bigger town, and the hospital used to be there. But now it is just the most pathetic place you can imagine, and so ugly. It is right on the shores of Searles Lake, which is mostly dry, where they extract a variety of minerals (including Trona, which is Na3H(CO3)2.2H2O). As you drive along Highway 178 toward Death Valley, you pass all these ugly buildings and equipment for extracting minerals. Huge piles of salt, or something like that, which no one seems to be doing anything about, because the company that built Trona has abandoned it, and not much mineral extraction goes on anymore, though some does. And then off to the side, the town, which is almost dead, full of abandoned houses (some for sale for very little money!), and supposedly full of meth addicts and producers. It's just awful.
But at the same time, there's another side to Trona. Rocket Boy found out that they have a Gem & Mineral Society, with regular meetings, and since he's interested in that sort of thing, he's been attending them. The meetings are held in conjunction with the Trona Historical Society, and so far the topics have all been historical, but he has high hopes. The meetings are attended by a lot of old people, who strike him as nicer than anyone he's met in Ridgecrest, and who are certainly not meth addicts or producers. One of these people encouraged him to visit the Trona museum, so that's where we headed on Saturday. We packed the babies in the car, along with diapers and snacks and sunscreen, but inconveniently forgetting their stroller, and drove east.
The Trona museum is delightful! First of all, it's free. Secondly, it's big, with I think about 10 rooms of stuff. Thirdly, it's quite interesting and funky, lots of great photos, bits of this and that, even a good collection of Trona High School yearbooks in one room. Certainly better than anything Ridgecrest's got. We were somewhat hampered by having forgotten the babies' stroller, so we were alternately carrying them and then when our arms got tired, chasing after them, and then when our legs got tired -- etc. The babies were SO GOOD at finding the one thing in each room that was both breakable and detachable. But the woman in charge was very easygoing about it all, and the boos didn't actually break anything, though not for lack of trying.
In the gift shop they had mugs and things with a road sign on them that read: "End of the World: 10 miles; Trona: 15 miles." I wanted to buy that one, but was embarrassed, so we bought one with a picture of the Trona Pinnacles on it.
Then we went to a restaurant that's in the old theatre. We were the only customers! And afterwards I felt really sick. But I'm thinking it might have been from my lunch the day before.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Friday
It's so late at night, I need to go to bed, but I'm on a roll here, and just couldn't bear to skip a day. So, Friday, in this case Flex Friday, which means that Rocket Boy was home. We all took a walk together this morning and we saw a lot of quail -- we saw Sentry Quail and all his offspring, who are getting very large, and later we saw another pair of quail -- it was a really good quail day. Also we saw numerous rabbits and some very large lizards. I am still waiting to see a chuckwalla, which is a very large lizard that supposedly a person might see around here. I thought they were dangerous, but Wikipedia says no, they are harmless to humans. Hoping that's not one of those mistakes that Wikipedia is so famous for being full of.
After the babies went to daycare, Rocket Boy and I went out to lunch, which is becoming a Flex Friday tradition for us. We decided to go to the Midway Cafe, a little tiny diner-type place which supposedly has been there for many decades. He had been there before but I had not. But as we approached the door I noticed the significant lack of credit card stickers. And then when we walked in I saw a sign that said "No Credit Cards." I asked RB, "do you have any cash?" He said no. I pointed out the sign. Oops. So we left and went to get some cash. Unfortunately our credit union is the only place in town we can get cash without paying a fee, so we had to go there, and it is such a pain to go there and even more of a pain to LEAVE their parking lot, I don't know why they have any members, I really don't. Anyway, long story short, we got the cash, we had a nice lunch (fish & chips, the special, it being Friday).
After lunch we went to do some recycling. Recycling is a HUGE issue in Ridgecrest, which I will not get into overly much here. Suffice it to say that curbside recycling is on its way, because we got in big trouble with the State of California for not having it, and the residents of Ridgecrest (at least those that attend City Council meetings and write Letters to the Editor) are really really pissed about it. Because it's going to be mandatory and they don't want to pay for it. We, on the other hand, are of course delighted about it and can't wait. In the meantime we save all our recyclable materials in bins in the garage, and periodically make trips to the recycling places around town and out of town to get rid of some of it. Today we were taking cardboard and newspaper. The thing is, no one else recycles anything except bottles and cans with California Redemption Value, that they can get money for. We drove to the recycling center and it was packed with people bringing hundreds and thousands of bottles and cans in. Really tacky looking people, who didn't even know you were supposed to take the lids off the bottles and drain the last of the soda from them. I can't write too much about this, it's too horrible. And the looks we got when we said we had cardboard and newspaper. Anyway, we survived.
And now I really must go to bed. We're all sick with one thing or another. We've got houseguests arriving tomorrow night. The house is only partially cleaned. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow. But it will be a nice day, because as we all know, every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest.
After the babies went to daycare, Rocket Boy and I went out to lunch, which is becoming a Flex Friday tradition for us. We decided to go to the Midway Cafe, a little tiny diner-type place which supposedly has been there for many decades. He had been there before but I had not. But as we approached the door I noticed the significant lack of credit card stickers. And then when we walked in I saw a sign that said "No Credit Cards." I asked RB, "do you have any cash?" He said no. I pointed out the sign. Oops. So we left and went to get some cash. Unfortunately our credit union is the only place in town we can get cash without paying a fee, so we had to go there, and it is such a pain to go there and even more of a pain to LEAVE their parking lot, I don't know why they have any members, I really don't. Anyway, long story short, we got the cash, we had a nice lunch (fish & chips, the special, it being Friday).
After lunch we went to do some recycling. Recycling is a HUGE issue in Ridgecrest, which I will not get into overly much here. Suffice it to say that curbside recycling is on its way, because we got in big trouble with the State of California for not having it, and the residents of Ridgecrest (at least those that attend City Council meetings and write Letters to the Editor) are really really pissed about it. Because it's going to be mandatory and they don't want to pay for it. We, on the other hand, are of course delighted about it and can't wait. In the meantime we save all our recyclable materials in bins in the garage, and periodically make trips to the recycling places around town and out of town to get rid of some of it. Today we were taking cardboard and newspaper. The thing is, no one else recycles anything except bottles and cans with California Redemption Value, that they can get money for. We drove to the recycling center and it was packed with people bringing hundreds and thousands of bottles and cans in. Really tacky looking people, who didn't even know you were supposed to take the lids off the bottles and drain the last of the soda from them. I can't write too much about this, it's too horrible. And the looks we got when we said we had cardboard and newspaper. Anyway, we survived.
And now I really must go to bed. We're all sick with one thing or another. We've got houseguests arriving tomorrow night. The house is only partially cleaned. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow. But it will be a nice day, because as we all know, every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Thursday
Library day! Ah, but the thought of libraries is upsetting to me right now, because they are talking about closing the library except for one day a week. What would the librarians do then? They wouldn't be able to survive working only one day a week. I don't want to think about it!
We missed story hour because we didn't even finish our walk until 10am, when story hour starts. No misuse of the path, no quail in sight, a pretty dull walk. We got to the library at 11am, just when story hour was ending. The boos were very bad at the library today, would not look at books. Baby B kept trying to run behind the librarians' desk. There is a sign on the front door of the library (a new sign) that says something about All Children Must Be Controlled by an Adult (that can't be it, exactly, but it's the general idea). My children were not amenable to control today. I think the problem was that a large woman and her children were sitting at the little table right next to the board books, and so the boos couldn't get to most of the books. Baby B kept touching the woman's wide back, but she never turned around. Finally I put them back in the stroller, grabbed a few books, and we left.
The librarians are so nice, though. As we stood in line to check out, one tried to get me to sign my children up for some summer reading program. She said, "For younger children, it's OK if the parent reads the book to them." I said I thought they were still just a little too young, since they often don't pay attention to me reading the books, so how would I know whether to count a book as "read" or not? Baby B was sucking on one of the books we were getting, and another librarian said "so that's why those books wear out so quickly!" I apologized and she said no, no, that's what they're there for, etc. I wanted to ask the librarians about the threat of the one-day a week library but couldn't bring myself to do it.
For me, grabbing randomly, I checked out a cookbook and a biography of Harper Lee. The babies got 2 board books and one regular-page book. Right now I am reading "Family Romance" by John Lanchester, which I read a brief review of in the New Yorker. It's a memoir and very interesting. The Ridgecrest library didn't have it, I had to request it. I think it came from a library in Bakersfield.
When I was in college, at Berkeley, I remember there was a guy who lived in my co-op who was from Bakersfield. He was a chemistry major and had a lot of issues. I remember thinking (based on his description) that Bakersfield must be this terrible, end-of-the-universe kind of place. It is odd that Bakersfield is now, for me, the place with the best libraries (in Kern County), and I live at the end of the universe, in Ridgecrest.
We missed story hour because we didn't even finish our walk until 10am, when story hour starts. No misuse of the path, no quail in sight, a pretty dull walk. We got to the library at 11am, just when story hour was ending. The boos were very bad at the library today, would not look at books. Baby B kept trying to run behind the librarians' desk. There is a sign on the front door of the library (a new sign) that says something about All Children Must Be Controlled by an Adult (that can't be it, exactly, but it's the general idea). My children were not amenable to control today. I think the problem was that a large woman and her children were sitting at the little table right next to the board books, and so the boos couldn't get to most of the books. Baby B kept touching the woman's wide back, but she never turned around. Finally I put them back in the stroller, grabbed a few books, and we left.
For me, grabbing randomly, I checked out a cookbook and a biography of Harper Lee. The babies got 2 board books and one regular-page book. Right now I am reading "Family Romance" by John Lanchester, which I read a brief review of in the New Yorker. It's a memoir and very interesting. The Ridgecrest library didn't have it, I had to request it. I think it came from a library in Bakersfield.
When I was in college, at Berkeley, I remember there was a guy who lived in my co-op who was from Bakersfield. He was a chemistry major and had a lot of issues. I remember thinking (based on his description) that Bakersfield must be this terrible, end-of-the-universe kind of place. It is odd that Bakersfield is now, for me, the place with the best libraries (in Kern County), and I live at the end of the universe, in Ridgecrest.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Wednesday
The day after Tuesday, obviously. And here we are, still in Ridgecrest. OK, so on to the continuing saga of the misuse of the bike/pedestrian path. Today I brought my personal cell phone with me and the non-emergency phone number of the police department, and wouldn't you know it, right after I got on the path, my cell phone died. I'm not good about remembering to charge it. But it was OK -- no path misusers today, though some kids on dirt bikes looked like they were about to misuse it -- but they didn't, at the last moment they veered off into the dirt. Off to disturb the lizards, but that's a whole nother topic, and one that would not be popular in this town.
I almost missed seeing Sentry Quail -- he and the gang were in a different place than they usually are. I looked up quail behavior on a birding website and learned that Sentry Quail is undoubtedly a male, because that's what they do, they act as sentries. Also, if I could ever remember to bring my binoculars along, I could tell that it's a male because there are obvious difference between male and female quail, they're just not obvious at long distances if you don't have your binoculars with you. OK, they're just not obvious TO ME, because I am a lousy birder. Must remember to bring the binocs!
Not much else happened today. I got some (paid) work done, and some housework. Dinner was "rockfish snapper" (whatever that is -- red snapper?), couscous, and broccoli/cauliflower. I sometimes wonder how my mother and the rest of the women of the 1960s, not to mention my grandmother and the rest of the women of the 1930s, not to mention... ever managed to make dinner. It is so easy for me. The couscous comes in a little box. The broccoli/cauliflower comes in a bag that I can steam in the microwave. The fish is cleaned, scaled, deboned, and cut into nice little filets at the grocery store. The only "work" I had to do was to wash the fish, cut off a few questionable bits, and cook it in a pan. Still, it seems like an effort. What a lazy person I am. Of course, quail don't have to cook anything, they just scratch around in the dirt for seeds. But quail have other issues, such as no houses to take shelter in, and no medical care if they get sick. I must not start wishing to be a quail, that would be the wrong path to go down. Another thing I read on a birding website was that "between 800,000 and 1.2 million are shot each year in California alone" and this does not seem to affect the population (quail are not at all endangered). Huh, I'll bet Sentry Quail's family would be affected if he were shot. If I see anyone going after my quail with a gun, I am calling that non-emergency police number, I don't care if they laugh at me.
And thus another day in Ridgecrest comes to an end.
I almost missed seeing Sentry Quail -- he and the gang were in a different place than they usually are. I looked up quail behavior on a birding website and learned that Sentry Quail is undoubtedly a male, because that's what they do, they act as sentries. Also, if I could ever remember to bring my binoculars along, I could tell that it's a male because there are obvious difference between male and female quail, they're just not obvious at long distances if you don't have your binoculars with you. OK, they're just not obvious TO ME, because I am a lousy birder. Must remember to bring the binocs!
Not much else happened today. I got some (paid) work done, and some housework. Dinner was "rockfish snapper" (whatever that is -- red snapper?), couscous, and broccoli/cauliflower. I sometimes wonder how my mother and the rest of the women of the 1960s, not to mention my grandmother and the rest of the women of the 1930s, not to mention... ever managed to make dinner. It is so easy for me. The couscous comes in a little box. The broccoli/cauliflower comes in a bag that I can steam in the microwave. The fish is cleaned, scaled, deboned, and cut into nice little filets at the grocery store. The only "work" I had to do was to wash the fish, cut off a few questionable bits, and cook it in a pan. Still, it seems like an effort. What a lazy person I am. Of course, quail don't have to cook anything, they just scratch around in the dirt for seeds. But quail have other issues, such as no houses to take shelter in, and no medical care if they get sick. I must not start wishing to be a quail, that would be the wrong path to go down. Another thing I read on a birding website was that "between 800,000 and 1.2 million are shot each year in California alone" and this does not seem to affect the population (quail are not at all endangered). Huh, I'll bet Sentry Quail's family would be affected if he were shot. If I see anyone going after my quail with a gun, I am calling that non-emergency police number, I don't care if they laugh at me.
And thus another day in Ridgecrest comes to an end.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The day after Monday
Also known as Tuesday, it's always a better day than Monday. I didn't used to hate Mondays so much, but Mondays in Ridgecrest...
Anyway, Tuesday is a better day. For one thing, we get a newspaper. The Ridgecrest "daily" newspaper, known as the Daily Independent, comes 5 days a week, Tuesday through Saturday. On Sunday we buy the LA Times and on Monday we read some more of the LA Times. This weekend we were in Northern California, so we didn't buy an LA Times, but then we bought the Monday LA Times, which did make Monday slightly better than usual. I'm still reading it today (it only took about 15 minutes to read the Daily Independent).
The babies don't go to daycare on Tuesday and we don't have a regularly scheduled activity, such as story hour, but we usually manage to fill the time. Today we took our walk a little later than usual, and we had an adventure. We walked on the bike/pedestrian path all the way to China Lake Boulevard without seeing any interesting wildlife, but when we turned around to walk back to Downs, we did see a few things. There were two very large gray and white lizards, those were interesting. Then a very large rabbit ran in front of us. No quail today. I have learned to look for what I call the Sentry Quail. The Sentry Quail perches at the top of a bush, and the baby quail and the other parent carry on their quailish activities below. I don't know what sort of alarm signal Sentry Quail might give, but it seems pretty clear that he/she is on the lookout. Anyway, no quail today. But as we walked west I started to hear a loud motor coming from behind us, and suddenly I realized it must be on the path with us, and then VROOM, it whizzed past us, missing us by inches, one of those dirt buggy things with two teenage boys on it. It wasn't going very fast, so I yelled to the guys, "This path is for bikes and pedestrians only! No motorized vehicles!" The guy on the back turned and gave me the coldest, least impressed look I have ever received from a teenage boy. I glared right back and reached for my phone. Then I remembered that (1) I only had my work cell phone with me, and that's not supposed to be used for personal calls, and (2) I didn't know the non-emergency number of the Ridgecrest police department. So I walked on, glaring at the boys. They stayed on the path for quite a ways, completely obnoxiously.
It occurred to me that school just got out, and so maybe I will be seeing more of these young men on the path. That could be dangerous. So when I got home, before I even gave the boos their snack, I got out the phone book and looked up the Ridgecrest police department. I found a number for "Police/Sheriff" so I called that. A woman answered and said "Ridgecrest sheriff's department." "Is this the right number to report a misuse of a bike path?" I asked. She paused, then said "in the city or the county?" I said "city" and she said, "no, you need to call the police department. I think their number is xxx." So I called that number and got another woman who said "Ridgecrest police department." I repeated my question and she said no, and transferred me to another number, where a third woman also said "Ridgecrest police department." (All these women sounded very similar, by the way. Is there a Ridgecrest accent?) I repeated my question and there was a long pause. "Where is the bike path?" she asked. I explained that it was the long one between Rader and Bowman, and she seemed confused. "Which street is it on?" I said it wasn't on a street, it was a separate entity. Clearly she had no idea what I was talking about, so I went on to describe what had happened. She asked me when, and I said about half an hour ago. I explained that I was worried that with school out, this would happen more often. She said "well, we can put some more patrols in that area." I agreed that that would be a good idea, and we hung up. I don't know where those patrols are going to be put, since she didn't understand where the path is, but I plan to bring my personal cell phone with me from now on, AND the Ridgecrest police department phone number. Ridgecrest police officers are always driving around giving speeding tickets. I am going to give them some more useful work to do. Sentry Quail, meet Sentry Mama.
Anyway, Tuesday is a better day. For one thing, we get a newspaper. The Ridgecrest "daily" newspaper, known as the Daily Independent, comes 5 days a week, Tuesday through Saturday. On Sunday we buy the LA Times and on Monday we read some more of the LA Times. This weekend we were in Northern California, so we didn't buy an LA Times, but then we bought the Monday LA Times, which did make Monday slightly better than usual. I'm still reading it today (it only took about 15 minutes to read the Daily Independent).
The babies don't go to daycare on Tuesday and we don't have a regularly scheduled activity, such as story hour, but we usually manage to fill the time. Today we took our walk a little later than usual, and we had an adventure. We walked on the bike/pedestrian path all the way to China Lake Boulevard without seeing any interesting wildlife, but when we turned around to walk back to Downs, we did see a few things. There were two very large gray and white lizards, those were interesting. Then a very large rabbit ran in front of us. No quail today. I have learned to look for what I call the Sentry Quail. The Sentry Quail perches at the top of a bush, and the baby quail and the other parent carry on their quailish activities below. I don't know what sort of alarm signal Sentry Quail might give, but it seems pretty clear that he/she is on the lookout. Anyway, no quail today. But as we walked west I started to hear a loud motor coming from behind us, and suddenly I realized it must be on the path with us, and then VROOM, it whizzed past us, missing us by inches, one of those dirt buggy things with two teenage boys on it. It wasn't going very fast, so I yelled to the guys, "This path is for bikes and pedestrians only! No motorized vehicles!" The guy on the back turned and gave me the coldest, least impressed look I have ever received from a teenage boy. I glared right back and reached for my phone. Then I remembered that (1) I only had my work cell phone with me, and that's not supposed to be used for personal calls, and (2) I didn't know the non-emergency number of the Ridgecrest police department. So I walked on, glaring at the boys. They stayed on the path for quite a ways, completely obnoxiously.
It occurred to me that school just got out, and so maybe I will be seeing more of these young men on the path. That could be dangerous. So when I got home, before I even gave the boos their snack, I got out the phone book and looked up the Ridgecrest police department. I found a number for "Police/Sheriff" so I called that. A woman answered and said "Ridgecrest sheriff's department." "Is this the right number to report a misuse of a bike path?" I asked. She paused, then said "in the city or the county?" I said "city" and she said, "no, you need to call the police department. I think their number is xxx." So I called that number and got another woman who said "Ridgecrest police department." I repeated my question and she said no, and transferred me to another number, where a third woman also said "Ridgecrest police department." (All these women sounded very similar, by the way. Is there a Ridgecrest accent?) I repeated my question and there was a long pause. "Where is the bike path?" she asked. I explained that it was the long one between Rader and Bowman, and she seemed confused. "Which street is it on?" I said it wasn't on a street, it was a separate entity. Clearly she had no idea what I was talking about, so I went on to describe what had happened. She asked me when, and I said about half an hour ago. I explained that I was worried that with school out, this would happen more often. She said "well, we can put some more patrols in that area." I agreed that that would be a good idea, and we hung up. I don't know where those patrols are going to be put, since she didn't understand where the path is, but I plan to bring my personal cell phone with me from now on, AND the Ridgecrest police department phone number. Ridgecrest police officers are always driving around giving speeding tickets. I am going to give them some more useful work to do. Sentry Quail, meet Sentry Mama.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest
Did I really say that? I did. When I said goodnight to my two little boys tonight I said "We had a nice day today and we'll have another nice day tomorrow. Every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest."
That is so untrue it is along the lines of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and whatever else parents typically lie to their children about.
First of all, today was not an especially nice day. Rocket Boy (my new name for him) had a 6:30 am meeting, so he was out the door before I even got up. I didn't sleep well last night, cats were jumping on and off the bed, etc., and I would have liked to sleep in. But of course I couldn't do that, I had to get up and change diapers and make breakfast. The boos and I went on our usual walk. I did see some quail, which is always a good thing. We got through the rest of the morning somehow. I sorted yesterday's mail, all the endless bills, and when I got to my paycheck stub I realized that they're STILL taking out a deduction for health insurance, even though that was supposed to have been cancelled on February 28 when Rocket Boy's insurance took over. We are very very lucky to have insurance, of course, but it is too bad that we have to have double coverage (which is actually illegal). The deduction is a third of my paycheck, so it is quite noticeable. So I sent an email to HR to sort that out, and then I got busy and made lunch.
Baby A was sent home from daycare yesterday because he has a runny nose and a cough, which of course they decided was swine flu, so we had to go to the doctor today because they won't let him back into daycare without a note. When getting ready to go somewhere with twins, there is often a moment when you realize that no matter what you do, you are going to be late, because there simply isn't enough time to do everything you need to do to get ready, times two. So we were a little late. The doctor (not our regular pediatrician) was nice. She said, when she saw the boys, "Oh, this is the Busy Age." An appropriate name for it. Baby B was especially busy today, he opened all the cabinet drawers in the examining room and started to remove medical supplies, he walked out of the room every time the door was opened, he took Baby A's clothes and strewed them around the room. Baby A, meanwhile, was screaming bloody murder because (I suppose) he thought he was going to have a shot. Baby A does not have swine flu (duh) and the doc wrote a note to that effect for the daycare center.
Then we went home and they took naps and I worked (for pay) for an hour, and then I did two loads of laundry and a load of dishes. Then I started to cook dinner and Rocket Boy came home and put up a baby gate, which of course caused a lot of wailing, and then we had dinner, except that the fancy apple-cheese pancakes that I'd made were apparently the worst food that Baby A had ever encountered, because he wouldn't eat one bite. Baby B didn't like them either. Then we all went for a walk and then we put the boos to bed, and that's when I said that every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest.
Maybe it is.
That is so untrue it is along the lines of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy and whatever else parents typically lie to their children about.
First of all, today was not an especially nice day. Rocket Boy (my new name for him) had a 6:30 am meeting, so he was out the door before I even got up. I didn't sleep well last night, cats were jumping on and off the bed, etc., and I would have liked to sleep in. But of course I couldn't do that, I had to get up and change diapers and make breakfast. The boos and I went on our usual walk. I did see some quail, which is always a good thing. We got through the rest of the morning somehow. I sorted yesterday's mail, all the endless bills, and when I got to my paycheck stub I realized that they're STILL taking out a deduction for health insurance, even though that was supposed to have been cancelled on February 28 when Rocket Boy's insurance took over. We are very very lucky to have insurance, of course, but it is too bad that we have to have double coverage (which is actually illegal). The deduction is a third of my paycheck, so it is quite noticeable. So I sent an email to HR to sort that out, and then I got busy and made lunch.
Baby A was sent home from daycare yesterday because he has a runny nose and a cough, which of course they decided was swine flu, so we had to go to the doctor today because they won't let him back into daycare without a note. When getting ready to go somewhere with twins, there is often a moment when you realize that no matter what you do, you are going to be late, because there simply isn't enough time to do everything you need to do to get ready, times two. So we were a little late. The doctor (not our regular pediatrician) was nice. She said, when she saw the boys, "Oh, this is the Busy Age." An appropriate name for it. Baby B was especially busy today, he opened all the cabinet drawers in the examining room and started to remove medical supplies, he walked out of the room every time the door was opened, he took Baby A's clothes and strewed them around the room. Baby A, meanwhile, was screaming bloody murder because (I suppose) he thought he was going to have a shot. Baby A does not have swine flu (duh) and the doc wrote a note to that effect for the daycare center.
Then we went home and they took naps and I worked (for pay) for an hour, and then I did two loads of laundry and a load of dishes. Then I started to cook dinner and Rocket Boy came home and put up a baby gate, which of course caused a lot of wailing, and then we had dinner, except that the fancy apple-cheese pancakes that I'd made were apparently the worst food that Baby A had ever encountered, because he wouldn't eat one bite. Baby B didn't like them either. Then we all went for a walk and then we put the boos to bed, and that's when I said that every day is a nice day in Ridgecrest.
Maybe it is.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Back in California
As I have noted before, I am a California native, but when we moved to Ridgecrest it had been just over 20 years since I'd lived here. That's a long time to be away and I never thought I'd come back. Although I adored California when I was growing up here, when I left, I didn't want to come back. I just wanted to visit. I enjoyed living in the midwest (if Michigan counts as such), and loved living in the Rocky Mountain time zone. When you're a Californian, you think there's nothing else, there's no other possible place to live. It was so exciting to find out that this is a really big country and it's possible to live practically anywhere in it -- you can even live in Wyoming! (Not that I did. But I used to teach there on weekends.) You can live in South Dakota! You can live in Missouri! There are so many choices and people live in all of them.
Coming back to California feels like giving up. No longer am I an adventurous free spirit. I came back.
Now, not only am I back, but California has just completely fallen to pieces while I was away. It's nearly bankrupt, social programs are being threatened, libraries will be closed, state parks will be closed. I feel responsible for this! I feel as though if I had been here, voting regularly, I could have saved California from itself. This is beyond ridiculous. One's vote counts for nearly nothing in this enormous state. I voted in the special election we had here a couple of weeks ago, and almost nothing I voted for passed. My fellow Californians chose, by and large, to vote their irritation with their government. They refused to compromise. Now the Governor is going to punish the citizens by making horrible cuts. This is such a mess!
I wish I had not come back to participate in this, but since I am here, I wonder what I can do to help. What does this state need from me? Could I volunteer to help keep a library open or a state park? Should I shop more (not that we have any stores in Ridgecrest)? I don't want to gripe, I want to help, but I don't know what to do.
When you live in a smaller (less populous) state, you don't feel so powerless.
Coming back to California feels like giving up. No longer am I an adventurous free spirit. I came back.
Now, not only am I back, but California has just completely fallen to pieces while I was away. It's nearly bankrupt, social programs are being threatened, libraries will be closed, state parks will be closed. I feel responsible for this! I feel as though if I had been here, voting regularly, I could have saved California from itself. This is beyond ridiculous. One's vote counts for nearly nothing in this enormous state. I voted in the special election we had here a couple of weeks ago, and almost nothing I voted for passed. My fellow Californians chose, by and large, to vote their irritation with their government. They refused to compromise. Now the Governor is going to punish the citizens by making horrible cuts. This is such a mess!
I wish I had not come back to participate in this, but since I am here, I wonder what I can do to help. What does this state need from me? Could I volunteer to help keep a library open or a state park? Should I shop more (not that we have any stores in Ridgecrest)? I don't want to gripe, I want to help, but I don't know what to do.
When you live in a smaller (less populous) state, you don't feel so powerless.
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