The last day of September

We have made it to the end of September! Summer is over (in my opinion). And it was so cool and lovely today. Supposed to get to 78 -- only 78! (I don't know whether it really did, but it felt nice and cool all day.)

I have been pretty sick for a few days, maybe the piggy flu (???). The babies have had it for about 10 days and now Rocket Boy thinks he's getting it. Despite that, the babies and I did our walk this morning. I really wanted to experience the walk in the cool morning air. It was divine.

I did not see or hear any quail, but near the end of the walk I saw a bird I hadn't seen there before. It paused on the fence quite near us, long enough for me to dig out the binoculars. It even flew back and forth a bit, as if it wanted me to see all its field marks. It was some sort of flycatcher, but I wasn't sure which one. At home, I looked in my books, and decided it was a Western Kingbird (which is a flycatcher). Not an unusual bird, but the first one I'd seen in Ridgecrest! I will have to be on the lookout for other fall migrants.

It's driving us crazy that the days are getting shorter. The weather is so perfect all of a sudden, but it's dark before 7pm, so it's hard to do an evening walk. Tonight, though, I decided to wander out into the backyard for a little while before (the babies') bedtime. Of course the babies came out too, and RB, and both cats. I turned the patio light on to keep the black widows in their holes a little longer. RB decided to brush the cats, who always have clumps in their fur because Whiskers is too old and sick to groom herself properly and Pie Bear is too fat. I pulled the babies around the patio in their wagon. "Who wants a ride, who wants a ride, who wants a ride in my little red wagon..." The moon is about 3/4, I think? I pointed it out to the babies. "Goodnight moon" (they love that book).

Sometimes we are happy here.

The last Wine Walk

The last Wine Walk of the year was tonight. First we went to John's for dinner -- the usual scramble with the buffet, trying to choose things the babies would like, tossing them bits of this and that (like feeding animals at the zoo). Then at 6:30 pm we pushed the stroller down Ridgecrest Boulevard to the stores that were participating in the Wine Walk. However, we never actually drank any wine. We just wandered up and down the streets, listened to the music, went into a few stores, bought a few things, but never a wine glass. Obviously we do not understand the point of the Wine Walk (which is to drink as much wine as possible, all for the $5 you pay for the wine glass). It was warm, but not oppressively so, and by 7 pm it was dark. Very pleasant. Almost (but not quite) like being in Boulder.

One of the stores we browsed was Red Rock Books. I checked the adult fiction and children's books, bought a Halloween board book (as if we need more board books). As I looked through the adult books, I realized there's very little I'm looking for these days. In the old days I always had several authors with whom I was obsessed; now, not so much. I'm sure they're out there, my future obsessions, at least I hope they are.

My sole current craze is the Sherlock Holmes mysteries of Laurie R. King, in which the aging Holmes marries a young woman named Mary Russell who becomes his partner in detection. I have read 6 of these, just started the 7th, and am depressed about the fact that there are only 2 more after that, plus another coming out in 2010. As mysteries, these books are just so-so. Their charm is in the portrayal of the relationship between Holmes and Russell. While escaping into them, I have fallen in lust with Sherlock Holmes again. I remember how I adored Jeremy Brett in the PBS version of the Sherlock Holmes stories in the 80s/90s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeremy_Brett). From the Wikipedia entry, it is interesting to note that playing Sherlock Holmes basically destroyed Jeremy Brett, the heartlessness of the character. How nice it would have been if he could have lived long enough to play the Sherlock Holmes who falls in love with Mary Russell.

I suppose I should be looking for some great author who writes about the desert. At the Wine Walk we ran into one of Rocket Boy's coworkers. He asked how we were liking Ridgecrest and made some comment about whether we were going to be among "the people who adjust or the people who leave."

"The people who leave" I whispered to RB as we walked on.

We came home and found a sun spider in the kitchen (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sun_spider).

Not as late as I thought

I guess that "80 degrees" thing was a typo. It's been corrected. Now NOAA is predicting 88, 89, 91 degrees for next week. Still, that's much better than 99, 100, 101 (the next 3 days). Gosh I'm sick of hot weather, or hadn't you noticed?

Today was a pretty wretched day. The babies are both sick, just colds, but we're trying to take it easy. Mom is heartsick, so ditto. A dull, miserable day.

But they took a good nap, and it was library day, which is the best day of the week. We got there quite late, around 4:30, because they took such a late nap. We go in the back door now, because it has a button to push that opens the door automatically. First we went to the front desk to return our books. Then we went to the children's section and I picked out a few picture books. I don't get the babies out of their stroller anymore, because they won't mind me and they can run so fast. They both grabbed board books off the little low bookcase. Baby B gave his up after a while, but Baby A read his all the way through, so we got that one too. It was about different kinds of trucks (sigh). Boys and their trucks.

Then we did a quick turn through the miniscule adult fiction section and I picked up a new-to-me Margaret Drabble novel. I can always read Margaret Drabble even though I don't consider her a favorite author. Then we went to the front desk to pick up two biographies that I had ordered through interlibrary loan. Gosh I love the library. All these riches for free.

We had leftover mac & cheese for dinner, homegrown tomatoes, and (after the babies went to bed) ice cream. Not doing so well with Weight Watchers these days, just trying to survive. After that I finished reading a novel I started yesterday. When I'm sad I read obsessively. Just trying to get through the days.

Tomorrow is Friday, my last day of work before the new guy starts and I become his advisor. It's really time to move on -- but to what?

Late September

I guess I can call it that, although there's still a week left. I'm wishing my life away, that's what I'm doing. So eager for the summer to be over. Here's a news flash: the predicted high temperature for next Wednesday (the last day of the month) is 80! They don't explain why, it's too far out. 102 Saturday, 103 Sunday, and then by Wednesday, 80. I keep looking at the NOAA webpage so I can see that number.

My sister visited this weekend to help me (because Rocket Boy was in Colorado again) and she got to experience our summer weather. At one point we stepped outside a restaurant into the blast of heat and the wind was blowing hard. "Oh," she said, "that's the blow dryer effect, isn't it?" It was actually fun to be able to demonstrate the things I've talked about.

But OK, fun is fun, time for all those things to be OVER.

Rocket Boy got back from Colorado and he was actually glad to get back to the heat. He said it was cold in Boulder, it felt like winter was coming. Winter, what a wonderful word.

I wonder if the black widow spiders will go into hibernation when it gets cold here. I just don't remember all these webs being here when we first arrived, back in February. We had cockroaches, but not so many spiders. There's a choice, huh? Would you prefer cockroaches or black widow spiders in and around your house? Actually the black widows seem to be pretty good about staying outside. The cockroaches know no boundaries.

With the end of summer comes the end of a lot of things for us. We've lost our best friend and neighbor, the person who really meant "home" for us. Now pretty soon I'm going to lose my job. I helped interview my replacement last week and he'll be coming on board next Monday. I'm going to help train him for a while, act as a resource person, but I imagine in a few weeks it'll be over. October 13th will mark 11 years for me in that job. Time to move on, but to what?

This time of year I should start to have more energy, gearing up for a productive autumn. I've always loved the fall. This year things are just a little different. I'm trying to stir up that energy but it feels like I need a little more quiet time first.

Special weather statement

That's what the National Weather Service is offering residents of the Kern County desert for the coming week. A special weather statement, informing us that temperatures will be 10-15 degrees above normal. It's supposed to be 104 Saturday, 106 Sunday, 106 Monday, 104 Tuesday. Of course it was a lot hotter than that in July, but this is mid-September.

I take comfort in knowing that in a normal year it might be 10 degrees cooler than this by now. But you always have to think: what about global warming? Maybe there will be no more normal years...

NWS offers some "Tips to help you cope with the heat":

1. Avoid prolonged exposure to the sun. When possible...stay in the shade or an air conditioned room. (Translation: hide in your house, like you did all summer.)

2. Wear loose fitting...light colored clothes. (Wearing white after Labor Day is not a faux pas in Ridgecrest.)

3. Drink plenty of non alcoholic fluids. (That is, try to avoid drowning your sorrows in booze.)

4. Never leave children or pets in a vehicle...even for short periods of time. Temperatures inside vehicles can climb rapidly to life threatening levels...even with windows partially open. (Ridgecrest is a dangerous place. It isn't even safe to leave the kids in the car in the garage -- with the garage door open and all the car doors open. It really isn't.)

5. Periodically check on children and the elderly (to be sure they haven't collapsed in despair).

Ridgecrest is a quiet place

Ever since we got back from Boulder, Ridgecrest hasn't seemed that bad to me. I know part of the reason is that the Colorado trip was so stressful. And part of the reason is that Boulder is now suddenly a sad place for me, because Clifford is dead.

Ridgecrest is a calm place. Ridgecrest is a quiet place. I don't know anyone here so there's nothing to feel sad about. Each morning I go out with my broom and knock down the webs that the black widows built the night before.

Boulder is a very active town. It just buzzes. The first night we were there, we went to IHOP for a quick dinner. And there was one of my coworkers, having a quick dinner with his wife and a friend. I went over to say hi. The next day, the babies and I went to the grocery store. And there was another one of my coworkers, pushing HIS baby in a stroller. We said hi. Although that was quite a few coworkers in a short time, when we used to live there it was not unusual for us to run into people we knew every time we went out to do anything. I think this was not because we knew so many people, but because in Boulder, people are always out and about. They do not hide in their houses, watching TV and eating, they go out in the world and do things. People go for walks, walk their dogs, ride their bikes, run, go to restaurants, go shopping, go to the library. Both the climate and the design of the town are very conducive to activity.

Ridgecrest is different. The climate is inhospitable and the town is too spread out. Although we don't know a lot of people here, we are starting to know some -- from Weight Watchers and the daycare and RB's work and our neighbors and the clubs we've attended meetings of. And there aren't very many choices of places to go. But we hardly ever see a familiar face in a restaurant or store.

Our house in Boulder seems much friendlier and more neighborly than our house in Ridgecrest. We have that beautiful front porch. When we were there last week I left the front door open most of the time (the screen was closed so the babies wouldn't leave on their own). People kept dropping by and we kept going outside. The big front window looks out on the street where people are constantly going by with their dogs and strollers. In Ridgecrest we also have a big front window, but we don't look out of it much. And most people's houses are dominated by a big garage, often with no front window on the house at all. People's lives seem very private here.

Right now I guess that's what I'm looking for -- a little privacy, a little quiet time. Ridgecrest is not a bad place to be if you just want to be alone for a while. As long as you don't mind black widow spiders.

Thoughts while writing an obituary

I've written too many of these. My mother's, my sister's, my husband's father's. I helped write my father's. I don't ever think I do a good job.

It's hard to sum up a long, complicated life in a couple of paragraphs, when you know the person is gone, possibly off to some unimaginable new adventure, or possibly just no longer in any sort of existence, and regardless, doesn't care what you write, while on the other hand you care very much.

When Clifford was at the Hospice center, that last day, the social worker asked whether he would like the TV on or some music. We said NO TV, but then I wondered about music. I remembered he liked classic country music, Hank Williams and that sort of thing. Then later RB remembered that the singer he really liked above all others was Joan Baez. How could I have forgotten that? He called her Joanie and was delighted that my family had known her family, long long ago. When RB and I took the twins and went off for a while, we went to the new Barnes & Noble in Boulder and I bought a Joan Baez Greatest Hits CD. I thought Clifford would like having his Joanie sing him out of this world.

RB said Clifford's relatives didn't really appreciate the CD and turned it off (this was after I left).

I brought it home with me. I'm listening to it now. The first song on it is "Diamonds and Rust," which keeps breaking my heart. It's about loss, and memory, and love.

I was looking through our electronic photo files, trying to find a good photo of Clifford for the obituary. Didn't find one. We have so many shots of him looking off to the side, not smiling, face partly hidden by a hat. A few falls ago we (me, RB, Clifford, and our old dog Molly) hiked a trail behind Silver Plume, Colorado to the Clifford Griffin Memorial obelisk. Such a cool hike. (See http://nathanabels.blogspot.com/2009/06/griffin-memorial-hike-silver-plume-co.html.) Below is a photo of me and Clifford standing next to the obelisk. It was such a beautiful day.

"...speaking strictly from me, we both could have died then and there..."

Of course, in that case, I wouldn't have had the twins. I have quite a bit of living left to do. Someday we'll take them on that hike.

I'm not getting anything done today.

Travail

Our trip to Boulder had an unthinkable effect on both Rocket Boy and me: we were glad to get back to Ridgecrest.

It turned out to be a difficult trip. Our friend who we were visiting probably began to die the evening we arrived, which was Friday. He "completed the death process" or "passed over" or whatever you want to call it at 6:45 pm Sunday. RB was with him. I had been able to tell him how much he'd meant to me. Then immediately we had to start dealing with estate issues, because RB is the executor. All of this was so hard to do while babysitting toddler twins, in our mostly empty, non-babyproofed house.

RB and I were in shock; we thought he'd live weeks more, even months. We were grieving. I wanted someone to appear and take care of us, but instead we were the ones taking care of everything. If we'd been Clifford's real family, if RB had been his son, people might have brought us food, but nothing like that happened. We had to keep finding food for the twins, rushing off to baby-friendly restaurants, stopping off at the grocery store for some more mac & cheese. We had to stay a little longer than we'd planned, so I changed our flights, extended our rental car (at huge expense). My credit card company responded by cutting me off due to suspected fraud.

The day we left, Tuesday, was crammed with meetings and errands. I babysat and packed, did dishes and cleaned. RB made it home by 4pm, at which point I loaded the twins in the rental car and went off to return our two borrowed cribs. I got home at 4:45pm. We left for the airport just after 5pm. As we drove down I-25, RB realized he had forgotten his keys to the rental car (we had 2 sets). I turned around at the Pecos St exit and drove back to Boulder to get the keys. That meant that we returned the car at 7:00 pm (it was due at 6:30pm). We checked in for our flight and discovered that they had put all four of us in different rows, and each of us in the middle seat of the row, despite the fact that carseats are required by the FAA to be in window seats.

Picture us in the airport (after checking 3 bags). RB and I each had a backpack, he pushed a rental cart with the diaper bag and the two carseats, and I pushed the twins in their double stroller. We stopped for a quick dinner, then rushed for the elevator. We were almost to security when RB realized he'd left the cart with the carseats and diaper bag back at the restaurant. He rushed back to get them while I banged my head against the stroller. We ended up in a security lane with some really prize TSA agents: they made the babies take off their Robeez. An obnoxious TSA agent told me I could not walk through the magnetometer until our stuff had gone through the scanner. "One of you stay with your things, the other stay with the children," she ordered. But RB had already gone through, so I had to stay with both the stuff and the babies (who kept running away).

At the United gate we explained about the seating problem and the gate agent found us legal seats, two and two, but they were six rows apart. We asked if we could board early, so that RB could set up the carseats, but that was not allowed. Finally we were on the plane, twins ensconced in carseats. Two women in the row ahead of me made some snotty comments about how their flight was now ruined. Of course that turned out to be true. Baby A (sitting with me) screamed off and on the whole flight. Baby B (with RB) did the same. In desperation, RB brought Baby B to visit me a few times. At one point I said, "Give him to me, I'll cuddle him," forgetting that in front of me on my tray table were a can of Diet Pepsi, a plastic glass of Diet Pepsi and ice, and a carton of milk. The glass dumped over into my seat pocket, the milk went on the floor. When Baby A wasn't screaming he wanted me to read "Goodnight Moon," over and over. This seemed ironic, because although we had departed over an hour past the twins' normal bedtime, neither would sleep until the very end of the flight. Poor Baby A. I had to wake him up after a mere 10 minutes asleep.

The luggage was late. We dragged everything to the car, fit everything in. The bill for four and a half days in the most expensive lot was $90. I was worried about what might be in the car, because RB had left the windows slightly open. As we headed for the highway, RB noticed that we had an ant invasion in the car. We stopped for gas and that's when I learned that my credit card had been cut off.

I drove like a madwoman the 122 miles from the gas station to Ridgecrest. We got into town just after 1:00am. We realized we had no milk for breakfast, so stopped off at the grocery store. It had closed at midnight. We went home. There was a terrible odor from the cat boxes, but our cat sitter had left us a sympathy card.

I was honestly glad to be home.

In Boulder

We made it to Boulder and my heart is breaking. It was an awful trip, 2 hours down Highway 395, which is not a fun highway, then I-15, I-10, the airport, got lost, got un-lost, checked in at the curb, dragged babies, stroller, heavy carseats, all our stuff to the plane, 2 hours in the air (Baby B awake the whole time), dragged all our stuff to the rental car place, took the long way home because it was rush hour... and then, as we came to that part of Highway 36 where you can see all of Boulder laid out before you... I thought I was dreaming. It was Brigadoon. It was Fairyland. Fortunately I wasn't driving, because I was swooning. That feeling of being in a dream continued as we drove through town. We were listening to KBCO on the radio and they were playing various classic rock/pop/whatever songs, and every song seemed full of significance and melancholy. Finally we drove up to our house -- our house! The most beautiful house in the world! It has been a very cool wet summer in Colorado, and Boulder is much greener than it would normally be in September. Lush, really. It looked more like Michigan than Colorado. All our trees and bushes are overgrown.

We went inside. The house is so lovely! The people who have been staying there this summer had left some furniture, and some bits and pieces of ours are still there, including the upright piano. It didn't seem empty. White walls, hardwood floors. The house was singing to us: welcome back, thank you for coming. The babies ran excitedly from room to room. I'm not sure they remembered it, but I'm not sure they didn't.

We went next door. Clifford is dying, I knew that. But I was not prepared for how he would look. He's lost all his hair, from the radiation or chemo or whatever. Otherwise he's not too much changed physically, but his face shows so much pain. So different from the old friend we left behind 7 months ago. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but that isn't our relationship and anyway I had to look after the babies, who ran madly from breakable thing to breakable thing.

Finally we took them outside. Clifford has a lot of rocks in his yard and the babies like rocks. They happily picked up rock after rock and threw them around. I wandered over to the low fence that divides his yard from ours. I looked into our yard. It is so green, so overgrown. Our elm tree, our oak tree, our maple tree. The times I would go into the yard and look over and see him in his yard. The times he would go into his yard and look over and see us. He and Rocket Boy have looked back and forth across that low fence for more than 50 years, starting when RB was younger than our babies.

This is the pain I didn't feel when we left, because I was too overwhelmed and too depressed. I hope it will stop soon.

It is like a dream. It is like when you dream about a person who's died, but there in the dream they are alive and well and you're so happy to see them again. I thought I'd lost my home but here is my home, waiting for me. At the same time, Clifford is dying, and he was a big part of "home." So home is really about to be lost. I get one more taste of it and then it will be gone. The next time I come here it will be all different.

This is where we used to live.

Smoke

Even way out here we are getting smoke from the LA fires. My sister just told me the smoke has gone to Las Vegas and now even on to Denver (and presumably everywhere else in between and beyond). That makes me feel more connected, both to LA and to Denver, instead of my usual feeling of total isolation.

And to Las Vegas. I have such a different attitude toward Las Vegas, now that I live in Ridgecrest. No longer do I think of it as a tacky, unhealthy, unnecessary kind of place. Instead, Las Vegas is where our classical music station comes from!

An advantage to living in Ridgecrest is that we are unlikely to lose our homes to a forest fire. There is no forest here. Could a fire survive for miles and miles on creosote bush? I think we're safe.

California's burning. "Patchy smoke" is predicted for the next few days. I look at the sky and think of the people who have lost their homes, the forest animals who have lost their lives.