from Seattle to Whidbey

View from my room at the Coupeville Inn

Motorcycles on the crowded ferry!

Waiting for the ferry ~ more than an hour.

Lunch spot in Seattle

Fascinating historical tour

Underground Seattle

Our tour guide, Richard, in Pioneer Square

Wonderful old building

Rich's apartment in Seattle

Meet Desi, Rich's cat

Part of a huge dinner at Christopher's, across
the street from our Inn in Coupeville

I'm drying laundry out on my balcony this morning, my, those jeans
take a long time to dry. Waiting for the knock on the door telling me
that this is unacceptable. In the meantime, I post.

Another busy day starting with the gathering of luggage and people
and heading to Pioneer Square for our fascinating historical tour.
It was so much more than just the underground because Seattle
was really a lumber town, providing wood for San Francisco (we
kept burning down). No gold in Seattle. Then a group lunch and
back into the vans for the long drive to Mukilteo and an even
longer wait for the huge ferry to Whidbey. Busy tourist season
with tons of cars, vans, motorcycles and people w/o cars. A v.
short 20 min. ferry ride.

Whidbey is the largest of the San Juan Islands and is a world
unto itself, it appears. We are in Coupeville which is about in
the middle of the island. I was out walking this morning and it
is quite wonderful, reminding me a bit of Mendocino, Carmel
and all the resort-type little West Coast towns that we all love
so much. It even has a bus system and some place called
Useless Bay that I am anxious to see and judge for myself.

Today is a noon picnic and then a FREE night. Five people
joined our party of 18 total last night; there will probably be
another one or two today. I'm slowly getting the names
down and I do really like the group, but you all know that
most writers are loners, so I have perfected the escape
excuses and routes.

cats and baseball first

Sweet Seattle city cat.

Ugly fish made out of baseball covers at
Anthony's Pier 66 where I had lunch (outside).

Oh, the sky...

Our friend the Rev. Rich - his 60th b.day tomorrow.
Today I'll count how many of us are here to celebrate.

Colorful street cars in the Lake Union area.

Street art ~ Lake Union again...

Part of the sculpture garden at the Seattle Art Museum.

Seattle was beautiful yesterday, today there is some fog ~ imagine
that. I walked and walked and got to know Seattle and myself again.
(It's been awhile for both.) It's clean, hilly, and overbuilt here. Many
condos, apartments and flats to rent or buy. Interesting the difference
between SF and this city, because they are so much alike in so many
ways. My Best Western is about a block away from the Space Needle,
so I can't get lost.

I walked down to Elliott Bay and had a lovely outdoor solo lunch
and read my LindaKindle. Almost finished with Bad Things Happen
and it's a good one. Walked some more, had coffee and enjoyed
myself thoroughly. My knees are only barking lightly this morning.

Skipped Rich's church service (more about this later) and met
the group at Mistral Kitchen on Westlake Avenue in the Lake
Union section of town. About 6 easy blocks from our motel
and again, lots to see and think about. The food was delicious
and the service impeccable. Nice time. Rich has an abundance
of relatives gathered here, all enthusiastic Italians. Fun stuff.

Today is the Seattle Underground Tour and then we all head to
Whidbey in the San Juan Island chain. I promised Rich I'd
attend his outdoor church service on Sunday ~ are photos
allowed?

OK, time to call Husbando and pack up.

rebus interruptus

We have to put aside this DVD because I'm hopping on a
plane and van today ~ boat tomorrow. Rebus is pretty good,
takes place in Edinburgh, Scotland with the usual prickly,
determined cop who has a whole slew of his own problems.
Starring John Hannah. From BBC and the Flix.

OK, I'm packed and ready to go. First the oj and blueberries
with yogurt. I'll report from Seattle tomorrow.

b.day celebration!

The luncheon guest of honor.

The Great Ducknik is celebrating a b.day this week and since it isn't
one of those cleanly divisible by 5 (thanks for that Plottie), it is an
easy one. Besides, we all know that any b.day after 50 (or so) is one
well worth celebrating. Too many of us have known too many loved
ones who didn't make it to our ages and we are the lucky ones indeed.

So off to Nopalito we go ~ a delightful Mexican restaurant on
Broderick Street between Fell and Oak. Duck had the mole enchiladas
and those are my eggs on black beans. We had too many luscious
appetizers, but everything was so yummy that we cleaned our plates
with ease. The mint lemonade was exquisite, by the way.

Our friends enhance our lives so very much. Couples learn early on
that it isn't easy to find other couples where all 4 are compatible.
Once again, we have lucked out!

monday weather report

Is this the worst summer ever? Do I say this every summer?
Fog and more fog. Vichyssoise sky with cold breezes. Windshield
wipers on the way to/fro work. Argh.

Yesterday I was talking with a customer from Seattle.
Me: "What's the weather like up there?"
He: "Just like here."

I leave for Seattle on Wednesday.

iPads, e-books, onward

Here is RR working on the blogmaid's new iPad. That is Josie,
the 3-legged cat, beside her. Really, it is always about cats, as
well it should be. RR is all outfitted in her BTS (back-to-school)
trendy clothes as she gets ready for first grade.

I spent $8 and $9 each on the e-books on Amazon. It took all
of 2 minutes. No wonder the Big Box bookstores are in danger.
It felt good to take the Lindakindle to work yesterday and I
found myself irritated at those backward people who said,
"I'll never use one of those!" without even looking at it. I
used to be one of those people, but that doesn't mean I wasn't
a bit braggy and e-superior about the whole thing.

good things too!

Jon Carroll recommended this mystery in his chronny column
and, behold, it's on the LindaKindle and I fell asleep while
reading last night. Do I like it? I love it! It seems so natural
to me and I'm as surprised as you are. It took me about two
minutes to register the LindaKindle and to order two books
through Amazon. Of course it will be traveling with me to
Seattle and Whidbey Island next week.

No wonder e-books are outselling hardcover books. I told
Husbando that I think I'll be reading more now.

What I'll miss as I ride the wave of the future ~ passing
beloved books on to friends and vice versa. But hey, that's
what blogs and emails are for.

Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan takes place in Ann
Arbor, Michigan and since I've been there, it's even more
enticing. Linda, thank you soooooo much.

Speaking of the future. Our blogmaid is getting her iPad
today. Don't let me touch it, I need to save money to redo
the kitchen, bathroom, etc. Right you are/were, notthat...

no room for fashion

I'm starting to pre-pack for my trip to Seattle next week. I'll
be taking MsBook, camera, Kindle® (!) and all the cords and
accessories that go with them. I know you've all gone through
this when you travel, but I spend a lot more time and space
with this STUFF than I do with the outdated travel questions
such as: how many shoes? which tank tops? one or two pair
of jeans? sweater? coat? umbrella? hat?

transplants

Last night the museum stores hosted a party at Darla's (9th and Irving)
and it was really quite fun with good food too. The folks above all
worked at Borders, so we tended to gather together and talk books.
From the left: Kristin P, Boss Dennis, msmush and Louisa. I am
lucky in my work world, but you already know that.

the final step finally

I think this whole interior re-mo started with "yuck, we need new
drapes in the living room." Yesterday our glorious wooden blinds
were installed and we once again congratulated ourselves on
selecting the perfect color and product. We want to salute Costco
for the windows and these Hunter Douglas® blinds. Great service
and prices ~ the workers were always on time and cleaned up
before they left. Yes, we are feeling smug on Mullen Avenue.

women only dinner

Last night Linda and Jane and I had a delicious dinner at Vinorosso
up on Cortland. Here you see Jane learning how to use the Kindle®
which Linda loaned us. I might be taking it on my trip, after Jane
sets it all up. I had such a nice time and our conversation leaped
around: writing, men, technology, homes, work, shoes, friends,
the internet, our youths, parents, siblings, food and more! Thanks
to these two loving friends for a fine, fine evening.

i'm looking over...

I don't know why, but the BEST tv is always on Sunday night.
Oh those halcyon days of The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Deadwood
and now Rubicon, right before Mad Men. This is a complicated
spy/puzzle story with a bunch of brainy people working for the
government and trying not to get killed. It's very New York City
and that, to me, is always the best location. Paris is OK too.

sweet and powerful

An unusual role for Colin Firth who plays Professor Falconer in
this movie entitled A Single Man. That's Julianne Moore (is she in
EVERY film?) and her role is minor. This is based on Christopher
Isherwood's novel and it all takes place in one day in 1962. I was
really moved and impressed ~ one of the best I've seen in quite a
few months. Sit near a Kleenex® box...

my new travel worry

Now really, isn't it bad enough that I have to fret about plane
crashes? I have heard and read horror stories about bed bugs
which is an epidemic here and across the world. The best site
to pre-check hotels seems to be TripAdvisor.com and my first
hotel in Seattle seems to be OK. But oh, the horror stories about
luxury hotels at Disneyland, Las Vegas, etc. It's not just a poor
people problem any more. One traveler advises everyone to
toss everything out when they get home. Oh, swell.

welcome back, old friends

Curt sketched these delightful people in Paris.

From Curt and Neti ~ plus my great grandparents' wedding certificate.

"Shutters" (1984) by our friend Curtis Fields, who died several years ago.

Neti's flowers will be perfect here.

We've been living without art work for a few weeks. Partly to
admire our walls and the fact that we actually decided on a great
color without benefit of marital discord. And, we wanted to
review our collection and decide which are our favorites.
These (and a few others) made the final cut. There is another
Neti oil of me back in 1906 or so with our first kitty Fanny,
but I don't need to look at that everyday, so it's on hold.

modern poetry (check out the blue notes)

Pillow Talk

As an insomniac compulsively flips a pillow
to cool the cheek, I turn you over again & again
& again in my mind when I need the cold side
of the said affair to rail against
"the ruinous work of nostalgia."
If life imitates art, then each stillborn
has its own mucus-bright Blue Period.
Sharks keep moving to prevent dying.
People keep moving too, unwittingly staving off
the comfort of stasis, the virility of expiration, blah, blah ...
But Death, the great highlighter, makes us all shine
a bit more dearly. I'm a widowchild who needs sunblock
against your blinding legacy. I used to get my cardio up
by just sleeping next to you. In a sane world,
I'd be bumped off to warn the others of a sky
so blue at the end of the working business day
if your veins hadn't stolen the purest
Pearl Paint blue first. A broken thoroughbred—
I need a passport & vertigo pills to reach you.
Godspeed, galloping into your Misty Blue
OMG I miss you.

Jeni Olin

Hold Tight: The Truck Darling Poems
Hanging Loose Press

because I promised myself...

Today I have nothing to borrow and not an original thought to
share with you. I haven't been writing and, as we all know, not
writing leads to a blank slate on screen, paper and mind. So
I read some emails, checked out Facebook, listened to NPR
and wondered why, oh why, I made the promise to post in
commano every day.

The Giants, as you may have noticed, are doing GREAT and
notthat wonders if we should root for the Padres or those blue
scumsucking Dodgers in their series.

Work is fine, nothing to report from there. Michael suffers
at Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara and even though he
knew this would be the worst week, it's still very hard to
endure. Rough days currently, but a little easier than the
first Chemo go-round.

There was some sunshine yesterday ~ I'll keep that at the
front of my mind for now. There, post done. Good job,
M.A. Go have breakfast.

i am a geek (not)

For the first time, I'm actually considering an e-book. Me. The
great book and book-only woman ex-bookseller. It seems
ideal for travel and to/fro work and I know that the Duck
Plotnik loves hers and I am seeing them more and more,
especially on BART. I still don't like deep-reading on the
computer, so I will need to think of my e-book as a book,
not a computer. But I won't rush into this decision...

Then in January I will finally get an iPhone when Steve lets
Verizon be one of the carriers. That should offer a few
challenges and frustrations.

feet, skates and parking

Good sleuthing on the toe shoes from yesterday ~ I hope they
work, Ms. Brain. I have seen them on Frisco people and stared.

Now let's get this over quickly. It cost me $24.50 to park at
the museum yesterday. I have never done that before and I
will never do it again, but it was a mess out there and I caved.
Husbando surprised me by guessing $30.00 and then treating
it lightly. Anyone who knows him will be shocked.

We watched Whip It last night. That's Juliette Lewis (left)
and Ellen Page in green. It's far-fetched, but I'm a sucker for
strong women movies and I really enjoyed this. Husbando,
not so much. Marcia Gay Harden was the mama. As you
know, it's all about the Roller Derby in Austin, Tx. Fun.

but what about ME?

Have you seen these five toe glove shoes on people? Weird.
In any event, today is the SF Marathon and getting from our
house to the deYoung will not be easy. I might even have
to pay for parking, which I have not done since I began
working there. I should have requested the day off so I
could enjoy the fog with the rest of the citizens of Frisco.

remember the strawberry

RELAX

Bad things are going to happen. 

Your tomatoes will grow a fungus

and your cat will get run over.

Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream 

melting in the car and throw 

your blue cashmere sweater in the drier. 

Your husband will sleep 

with a girl your daughter's age, her breasts spilling 

out of her blouse. Or your wife

will remember she's a lesbian

and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat—

the one you never really liked—will contract a disease

that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth

every four hours, for a month.

Your parents will die.

No matter how many vitamins you take, 

how much Pilates, you'll lose your keys,

your hair and your memory. If your daughter 

doesn't plug her heart

into every live socket she passes, 

you'll come home to find your son has emptied

your refrigerator, dragged it to the curb,

and called the used appliance store for a pick up—drug money. 

There's a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger.

When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine 

and climbs halfway down. But there's also a tiger below. 

And two mice—one white, one black—scurry out

and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point

she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice. 

She looks up, down, at the mice. 

Then she eats the strawberry.
So here's the view, the breeze, the pulse

in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you'll get fat,

slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel 

and crack your hip. You'll be lonely.

Oh taste how sweet and tart 

the red juice is, how the tiny seeds

crunch between your teeth.

Ellen Bass
American Poetry Review 
July / August 2010

back to the Oakland Museum

They are growing vegetables in the courtyard. Very cool.

And here's a sampling ~ I was loathe to take photos inside because
I can't mute my flash. But, trust me, there are some totally wonderful
pieces in here to appreciate. Arneson, David Parks, about four Joan
Browns (I love her work) and lots of Thiebauds. Nice to be able to
move around easily, not that I don't love the blockbuster exhibits,
of course. Such a nice day and thanks to our dear docent, Ginger.

we'll always have Oakland

What's this? Blue sky? Cat basking in the sun? Oh, I see, we have
to head East and out of the thick fog every once in awhile in summer.
This shot is right across the street from the Oakland Museum where
we met our friend Ginger today. Since it doesn't open until 11am, we
had some time to sit on the front steps and catch up on our lives.

We had a great time at the newly re-done museum and then enjoyed
a huge lunch at the Joy Luck restaurant down on 8th Street. Too
much food for not much money.

Tomorrow you'll see photos from inside the Oakland Museum.
Should you go? Yes indeedy ~ take BART and get off at the Lake
Merritt Station. Walk less than two blocks and you are there!

wednesday is kid day

Alphabet bath time for Kingston, Dancing Jen's nephew with the
dancing dark eyes.
RR and the blogmaid are safely back from Nebraska where
they learned (as we all do) that sunshine does not always
equal the beautiful summer days of our youth. Hot, hot
and more hot. They will be over for Husbando's famous
grilled cheese sandwiches today around noon. Hoooooray!

The twin boys are a year old now and I don't have a current
photo, but will bug the grandma Neti for one or two (hahahaha).

an insipiring day

Access Day yesterday was a huge success and gratifying for
those of us working. The wheelchair people were delighted
not to have standing people in front of them and there were
more blind customers than I expected. The blind enjoyed
the docent tour, the atmosphere and even bought art prints.

The customers were happy and appreciative to have this
special day for them and it was a reward for their friends,
family and care givers. Happiness all around.

appreciation day

Today is Access Day at the deYoung. It's a special day for people
with disabilities and only four of us will be working in the Orsay
store. We have a ton of customers in wheel chairs normally,
but today the museum is providing extra blue parking places,
lots more chairs, special docent tours, etc. It makes me very
proud to work someplace that cares so much.

My mother was in a wheelchair for a few months before she
died and I quickly learned to appreciate how difficult life
can be when life takes a bad turn. The smallest ridge on the
floor can turn into an unexpected challenge for someone
in a wheelchair.

a glum start to Sunday

I'm listening to NPR this morning ~ is there some truth to the
notion that Jeb Bush might run for President? Will we ever be
rid of these rich and evil people?

Note to self: pick-up Family of Secrets for airplane reading.

steady as a bell...

This is the Poem of the Day and it reminds me of
the above-mentioned Will's work. It makes me
smile and happy to be alive this morning.

Nice long email from Michael who is handling things
beautifully this go-round at Cottage Hospital.

Practicing to Walk Like a Heron

My wife is at the computer. The cat
is sleeping across the soft gold cushion

of my chair. Last night there was a frost.
I am practicing to walk like a heron.

It's the walk of solemn monks
progressing to prayer on stilts,

the deliberate cadence of a waltz
in water. I lift my right leg within

the stillness, within the languid
quiet of a creek, slowly, slowly,

slowly set my foot on the dog-haired
carpet, pause, hold a half note, lift

the left, head steady as a bell before
the ringer tugs the rope. On I walk,

the heron's mute way, across the
room, past my wife who glances

up, holds her slender hands
above the keys until I pass.

Jack Ridl

where oh where?

The blogmaid and RR are in Nebraska (of all places) visiting a bunch
of cousins. Communication is difficult, so I won't be getting my chatty
daily morning emails. I don't like that. And Michael is back in the
hospital for another round of chemo and of course we all hate this.
This was part of the plan from the first, so it's not as though the nasty
leukemia has returned.

I have a 40 page trip write-up here from Will in our writing group.
I need to print it for Husbando, but I'm not sure my cheapo Epson
can handle it. I will mull this over for a day or two.

Tonight I'm closing again at the deYoung. It's how I spend my
Friday nights and I'm more than OK with that. Tonight is a Free
Night, sponsored by Target, so the joint will be jumping.

every now and then...

We are really, really good about fruits, veggies, salad every single
damn day and very little red meat. But today, for reasons unknown,
we were both hankering for a greasy burger, fries and a chocolate
milk shake. So out we go to Bill's Place on Clement around 24th or
so. Since there was sunshine (!) we sat in the patio and enjoyed
every bite, except that icky lettuce over there on the left. As you can
see, when I said "rare," they took me at my word. Often the chef will
think I meant "medium," which I never mean, except maybe for
lamb. Hmmmmmm, that was quite the treat. Now I'd better walk
it off before the arteries clog. Then, for sure, a nap.

the prince of small potatoes

Poverty

Vallejo wrote that with God we are all orphans.
I send $22 a month to a kid in Ecuador
so starvation keeps moving on its bony burro
past his door—no cars, computers,
basketball shoes—not a bottle cap
of hope for the life ahead . . . just enough
to keep hunger shuffling by in a low cloud
of flies. It's the least I can do,
and so I do it.
I have followed the dry length
of Mission Creek to the sea and forgotten to pray
for the creosote, the blue salvia, let alone
for pork bellies, soy bean futures.
Listen.
There are 900 thousand Avon Ladies in Brazil.
Billions are spent each year on beauty products
world-wide—28 billion on hair care, 14 on skin
conditioners, despite children digging on the dumps,
selling their kidneys, anything that is briefly theirs.
9 billion a month for war in Iraq, a chicken bone
for foreign aid.
I am the prince of small potatoes,
I deny them nothing who come to me beseeching
the crusts I have to give. I have no grounds for complaint,
though deep down, where it's anyone's guess,
I covet everything that goes along with the illustrious—
creased pants as I stroll down the glittering boulevard,
a little aperitif beneath Italian pines. But who cares
what I wear, or drink? The rain? No, the rain is something
we share—it devours the beginning and the end.
The old stars tumble out of their bleak rooms like dice—
Box Cars, Snake Eyes, And-The-Horse-You-Rode-In-On . . .
not one metaphorical bread crumb in tow.
Not a single Saludo! from the patronizers
of the working class—Pharaoh Oil, Congress,
or The Commissioner of Baseball—all who will eventually
take the same trolley car to hell, or a slag heap
on the outskirts of Cleveland.
I have an ATM card,
AAA Plus card. I can get cash from machines, be towed
20 miles to a service station. Where do I get off penciling in
disillusionment? My bones are as worthless as the next guy's
against the stars, against the time it takes light to expend
its currency across the cosmic vault. I have what everyone has—
the over-drawn statement of the air, my blood newly rich
with oxygen before the inescapable proscenium of the dark,
my breath going out equally with any atom of weariness
or joy, each one of which is closer to God than I.

Christopher Buckley

how about this library?

As you well remember, I'm going to Seattle and Whidbey Island
next month. I've heard from various friends about this spectacular
library and, as luck would have it, it's very close to my downtown
hotel. My friend Rich has also organized an underground tour
for us in Seattle, before we boat over to Whidbey. I'm starting to
get excited and even bought a new swimsuit yesterday and we
know that takes courage.

silence those vuvuzelas!

Or, however one spells that horrid horn noise from the soccer games.
Yesterday was Sunday Streets (car-free) day in the Mission, but at
11:30am all the bars and restaurants were packed and the streets
relatively empty. A few bikers and skaters trying to hit the walkers,
but nothing like last year. Maybe it was the lack of sunshine in SF,
but in any event, it was good to be out and about for a little while.

We did enjoy the l-o-n-g soccer game and the exceptional baseball
game ~ the Giants have been hitting (what?) lately. This week is
All Star time, down at Angel Stadium in Anaheim. We hate the
Angels, but that's a long ago story that should be put to rest by now.

let's travel with Claire!

The blogmaid's step daughter (and RR's half sister) is once
again spending the summer in Switzerland. I urge you to
read her pony tail blog and to view her award-winning
video here. Claire has a wonderful way with words and
has about 4000 friends across the globe. I probably won't
ever get to visit this beautiful country filled with lakes
and mountains, so I look forward to my daily visits with
Claire as she plays soft ball, swims, bikes, parties and
learns various languages. Thank you for this delightful
journal, dear Claire!

return to Glasgow

I am currently reading Denise Mina's second crime novel and
of course I'm hooked. The first was Garnethill and this one is
entitled Exile. It features the same flawed Maureen O'Donnell
and her friend Leslie, as they try to track down a killer of
their friend Ann. Yes, it's dark, but intriguing.

Ms. Mina has studied and taught criminal law and certainly
knows the city of Glasgow. Good stuff. Oh, and there will be
one more book, Resolution.

nobody does it better

As you know by now, we love most British detective series and
Murphy's Law is no exception. Tommy Murphy (James Nesbitt)
is an undercover officer in London ~ he's intense and fun and
never afraid of nothin'. Murphy is actually Irish, but so far the
accents are not too heavy and we can understand all the clever
typically British conversations. From the Flix®, of course.