Expelled from tech hell

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

EeeK! Again! Tech hell!

However, I’ve found my way out, or maybe I’ve been expelled from hell.

First thing today, I spent an hour or so on finances, and congratulated myself. I’ve begun to accept that this stuff takes time, so I’m a little more relaxed in doing it. Great! Finished!

But then I got the scheduled call from Apple to help me change my email address, You remember that I was told my comcast email would be killed last week. The Apple store expert Sherelle recommended that I record a different email…. oh!…  no one cares about this stuff! … Not me, either! sorry!

Anyway, while I was in the middle of the email discussion I got a call (which I disregarded, since I was engrossed in crucial Apple stuff) from comcast/Xfinity. The tier 2 person Josh left a message that said sorry, we made a mistake. They were too busy joining up comcast and xfinity (remember the merger? last summer?) that they lost my records. Therefore, I was told I would lose my email, but I wouldn’t after all. Lesson learned: Don’t take no for an answer. When I stood my ground they sent me on to tier 2, and Josh of that tier miraculously found my records.  Ick! I can’t stand thinking about this stuff!

Anyway, I have not lost my email address. 

Thank you, Universe.

After all that, Zing and I took a very long walk around the Capitol building. The sliver of moon was in the pink and blue evening sky.  

Love, 
k 

Miami days

Miami days

Dear Caroline, 

You asked me to post about my time with the women in my family in Miami over MLK weekend. I love that you are so caring! And curious, too! These are my notes and drawings:

From Jan. 16:

These past few days have shown me once again how beautiful family and friends are --and they may not even know it -- by simply abiding through loss and its  confusions. 

I spent yesterday and today saying goodbye and I'll see you soon to my sisters and nieces and our third generation woman, Juliana. We loved being together.  We celebrated Mom and each other. "Was Grandma spunky?" Juliana asked Rachel as we were driving home from the beach. "Yes!" we both said, " and you're spunky too!"  

Then this afternoon four of us from Carrollton School got together at Pam's to see what we could remember together, and what we hope for the future. It was plenty! I am bolstered by the day. 

From Jan. 19:

It was lovely to be in Miami again. A couple of months ago to visit there seemed impossibly challenging. But this MLK weekend with the women in my family was just plain good. My sisters and nieces have been there for me all along, and I hope I am there for them too. 

On the way home to Sacramento yesterday, wouldn’t you know it, my seat belt was trapped between the cushions as we were leaving Dallas. I yanked and fiddled, and so did my seat mate, with no success. I was going to tell the stewardess, but maybe later; instead he charged to the front of the plane immediately — dodging incoming passengers — and told her my problem. Someone came back and fixed it. Anyway, my seat mate had a graying ponytail and expensive-looking tooled leather boots and pressed jeans. I thought he must be a Texan. Except for me thanking him, we never talked until the end. It turns out he was on his way to  his home in Alaska, and he regaled me with the glories of that state. Independent people, it seems. Gorgeous coastline. Dark winters (Go to Arizona then if you can, he advised.) Good fishing. He works for the oil industry (?), and was on his way back from Trinidad, off the coast of oil-rich Venezuela. 

I landed in a Sacramento of cold rain and wind. They said the river was up to the bridge. Tomorrow Zing and I will check.  

Love,

k

Here are two drawings from Miami:

Swimming pool

Through the window

Apple, one bite at a time

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I’m writing this on paper first, because I just discovered Zing’s audio from yesterday and I want to listen to it while I work.** (BARK just now. Silence. Whimper. Silence.) Every bark, even though intermittent, is a shock.

You know I left Zing alone for an hour and a half Friday while I was at lunch. (Now he’s silent.) I’ve been thinking (BARK!) about trauma, how it is difficult to shed. Un-learning takes time. I just got a book called something like The Body Tells the Story, about how we cannot run away from pain. Zing echoes human experience. (He’s quiet now.)

Interesting that I’m writing on my sketchbook today, after how I spent the afternoon — immersed in technology at the Apple store in the mall. I’ve decided to learn the stuff so I don’t get that desperate frantic fear when I feel bested by my “devices.” I signed up for a one-hour free beginners’ iPad workshop. (There’s an advanced one too, and an array of other offerings.)

Maybe you’ve been in — or at least passed by — an Apple store. We didn’t have one in Tallahassee. When I visited the brand new flagship Apple store in San Francisco a couple of months ago I thought the bustle was unique to it, but I was wrong. It’s the same at Arden Mall. While many shops are nearly empty, Apple is jumping. Lots of employees with navy t-shirts. A greeter at the door. People of all ages, most nodding and smiling. I thought they were all buying stuff, but Sherelle, the workshop leader,  said most were there to solve hardware or software problems. No one seemed frustrated or grim. 

I was the only one who showed up for the workshop, so I got one-on-one teaching, got to practice stuff I already know — like splitting the screen — but now I'm good at it. (It’s been an hour. Zing just barked.) I learned plenty, but I’ll spare you details. 

I asked Sherelle if she uses Facebook. She said not much, because it's addictive. "I have an account,” she said, “but I don’t use it much. I’m more of a face-to-face person.” Gotta love a tech pro who says that. 

BTW, Zing made about 10 barks in 90 minutes.  

Love,
k

If a tree could walk ...

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It’s a turning point in my relationship with Zing — I am fashioning a life of my own and going places without my dog! This takes some planning, because he’s not completely out of his Separation Anxiety, but we’re both calmer these days. So, using the resources I’ve developed, I will be stretching the time I leave Zing at home alone. (Of course, right now that’s about two minutes…) Today I gave him the anti-anxiety pills that quiet him for several hours, and then walked three blocks to the Crocker Museum to have lunch with my new friend Faith. Before I left the apartment I turned on my iPhone video to record any whimper Zing might make. Lunch with Faith was so inspiring that I forgot to worry he might be barking. Faith is a beautiful woman who almost always wears a cape. Today it covered a black striped menswear suit that she said she’d bought in Italy. She’s 91 years old and a cheerleader to me. We met when our dogs crossed paths in the park. When I got back home I discovered the audio somehow didn’t work, so I don’t know if Zing barked or not. Let’s just say he didn’t. 

I’ve been thinking about those three words that I’ll carry around in my head for three months: not New Year’s resolutions, but guides. I’ve decided to eliminate Beauty for now — even though beauty is in the back of my mind all day, and I’m convinced we each define our own beauty. I’m sure it will be a future Word for me. But now my words are Spirit, Breathe and Tree. 

Spirit reminds me that I want to ask people about their spiritual life. Sometimes I feel confused and I want to know what has meaning for others.

As for Breathe — Patrick has been encouraging me to slow down and breathe. I want to count to five breathing in and six breathing out each time I pass through a door. Of course, I haven’t done that even one time yet! 

And the Tree notion came to me from walking on these tree-lined streets. For most of my life I’ve been thinking I should stand up straighter, walk  more confidently, and lately — do something tight with my core. Those admonitions never work, and as I get older I think I slouch even more and lead with my head sticking out front, like a chicken maybe. So I decided to stand like a tree and walk like a tree might if it could. Trees are all shapes. They stick out this way and that with a lovely grace. I’m going to try to walk less like a model and more like a tree.

Love,
k

A tiny shop and then a hopeful dinner

Written last night:

Dear Friends

It’s been a while since Keith, Judy and I  got together, so I loved spending this evening with them. We talked a lot about family … and faith and ancestors … I think it was all generally about hope. It was a laughing, lingering dinner.*

As you know, I am grappling with technology, and today it was mostly about my iPad. The day after Clark died I dropped it on the front sidewalk, and the screen lights have not been right since. You see everything, but it’s on a slightly striped screen of lights and darks. In the bright sunlight of Miami it was impossible to read, and Mary told me I’ve got to take care of it quick. Today I found a place nearby where they can fix it, and around lunchtime Zing and I strolled over. (It’s fun to be on the street during lunch hour when the legislature is in session because  it’s crowded, and you can overhear snatches of interesting conversation.) I was worried about whether the shop would let Zing in, but that was not an issue, for this little shop is not in a building, but between them — squeezed into the narrow space between a Taqueria and a SubWay. You might think it’s someone playing Store, but it’s for real. “Is this the Computer Store?” I asked the man who was dancing and rapping on the sidewalk outside the sign. He seemed to nod his head Yes. So Zing and I took two steps from the sidewalk into the “store.“  Zing sat down underneath the plank that is the desk. The clerk/manager said he can help, took my money and ordered a needed part. Zing and I can’t wait to go back. 

Love,

k

* The menu was beef bourguignon (from last week ... I froze the leftovers.),  buttered carrots, garlic bread and poached pears with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Those recipes are here. (except not the carrots!)

See that little spot where the man in red is?

That tiny space between the green overhang and the SubWay

is the computer repair shop

Inside the shop

Still learning

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I am beginning to feel at home here. Zing and I have worn paths to the Safeway and the Natural Foods Co-op, and I know when the Farmers markets are open and I’ve made some friends, and I know which gas station is most convenient, and where to get my car washed and which street lanes become right turn only and how to turn a key in a lock without breaking it, and how to use a FOB to open a door (What’s a FOB? you ask? It’s a magic circle that you press against some numbers and it unlocks a door.), and which streets are one-way, and which hours to avoid driving in midtown, and how to say NO to a homeless man, and how to use earbuds, and when to talk to someone in the elevator and when to be silent, and which stores welcome dogs, and what time I-80 clogs up and …. 

… and there’s still so much to learn!

At first I was afraid to drive down the street, and now I’m thinking about driving to San Jose. It happens in steps: First, explore with someone else, and then drive alone. I might explore by bus or train, and then drive myself. Today it was Danville, not too far from Berkeley, for a SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates) meeting. Mary Kaye drove. The topic was Writing an Artist Statement, and I could rave on and on about the group, but I’m falling asleep!

Love,

k

A Northern California SAQA member showed us a piece of her pojaki, 

hand-sewn traditional Korean patchwork

Fresh nuts and politics

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It is more than 200 days since Clark died, and today he was with me everywhere — that tree where I think he stays at night — it swayed when Zing and I passed under it. The moon this morning — my favorite crescent, low and wide. The red Tesla that wove around me on I 80: Clark was laughing. 

I was driving west (yes! I know the directions now) to Pedrick’s Produce at the Dixon exit, to buy cashews for Rachel for her birthday. Pedrick’s is not just a nut store, but mostly. (Rachel, a big bag of fresh ones is on its way!) It feels good to be able to drive without hesitation. 

Pedrick’s is right off the interstate, but you can look across a field and see mountains. These distant majesties are growing on me, the same way the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico did in Florida. I didn’t think that would happen.  

At noon Zing and I went to Senator Kamala D. Harris’s office not far from our home; We stood with a small crowd to encourage the senator to keep to her principles in the face of strong opposition brewing in Washington. Zing tolerated the signs and speeches; he’s getting used to political action.

Then I visited the Geek Squad to deal with tech stuff. At least I know the way.  

Love, 

k

Mostly nuts at Pedrick's in Dixon, CA

Mountains near Dixon, CA

Zing hides his interest well
(But he made a new friend, who is holding his leash)

Connecting: the goods and the glitches

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Eeeeek! If I lose my email address and therefore my connection with you, I’ll be back.  Comcast told me I’m losing it, but I refused to listen, so they passed me on to “Tier 2.” Whatever that is. So far I still have my email address…. I’m afraid to call Tier 2, wherever they are, to find out if this reprieve will last. Anyway, I have a seldom-used Google address (which I forget at the moment) and that will be my back-up. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want to lose our connection. You are my lifeline!

I have also begun calling people. Actually talking to people. And some of you have called me. I love it. Don’t stop. I’m not joking. Connecting with people I love has made all the difference to me. 

Another old-fashioned thing I’m doing is reading books — words on paper. I am a Kindle fan, but lately I love turning pages, writing notes in margins.  Reading is something I can do in response to the election of Trump. I want to learn stuff. Today I made a concrete plan: 30 minutes of practical reading — like learning about the iPad or the car — and an hour of reading a book. Today I did the first and not the second.

Love,
k

Beef Bourguignon

Dear Joy,

Here's the  recipe I promised. It's not my great-grandmother's exactly, but she has a lot to do with it. My mom, Veronica Krumm, was a great cook. She would often tell us about her grandmother's beef stew, how delightful it smelled, cooking in the oven. Mom was always trying to make something that scrumptious, and she felt she never did. So I am pursuing the elusive French beef stew in the oven. It must smell and taste heavenly. (Mom's grandmother was from Paris, and she married a German -- an atrocity that got her disowned. They left Europe for Ohio, where she continued cooking.) I've had this recipe for more than 40 years, and I think it's from Julia Child.

Beef Bourguignon 

Sauté 6 ounces bacon for two to three minutes, to brown lightly. Take bacon out. Reheat the bacon grease with 1 T. oil (I use olive oil.) until it is almost smoking.

Cut 3 pounds of beef* into 2" cubes. Dry the beef and sauté it until brown. When brown, put it in the dish with the bacon. When it's all brown, put the beef back into the pan. Sprinkle it with 1 t. salt, 1/4 t. pepper, 2 T. flour. Put it in 450° oven for 4 minutes. Stir, and put back in oven for another 4 minutes. Turn the heat down to 325°. Add 3 C. red wine (Chianti is good.), the bacon, enough beef broth to barely cover, 1 T. tomato paste, 2 mashed garlic cloves, 1/2 t. thyme, a crumbled bay leaf. Simmer on top of the stove, then cover and put in the oven until the meat is tender -- 3 to 4 hours, or more. When it is ready, braise**  18 to 24 small onions (I use a bag of frozen, thawed.), and sauté a pound of sliced mushrooms in butter.

When beef is tender, pour the casserole over a sieve into a saucepan. Wash out the casserole and return the meat to it. Put the onions and mushrooms on top. Skim any fat off the sauce and simmer it a minute or so. It should coat a spoon lightly. Taste it! Pour it over the meat and vegetables. If you are serving now, simmer it a couple of minutes, basting with the sauce. You can also cool it and then simmer it 20 minutes before serving.

Serve with buttered carrots and French bread.

*Good meat = good casserole. Rump roast is best. Then chuck. Then sirloin tip.
** Braising means to brown the onions and then cook them until tender.

Beef cooked until tender, right
Onions braising on the left

Happy Graffiti

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It took three irregular nights, but this morning I finally shook off the jet lag and woke up California time. As usual, I  showered and dressed and then Zing stretched, jumped to the floor, and joined me for a quick walk in the dark city. Only this morning, when we got on the elevator and the door closed and I sleepily pushed the down button, there was a 2” blue sign taped above: BE NICE. I stared at it as we went down. On the first floor the elevator door opened to another sign: IT’S NOT HARD TO BE NICE … SAY HI!! and then another BE NICE on the lobby door.

I just had to thank the universe for that note writer. Our building is kind of stodgy, so I knew the signs would be down soon, and they were. Still, I hope more pop up. (Yes, I thought of joining in with a sign of my own, but this little happy graffiti campaign belongs to someone else.) It was a great way to begin the day.

Other than that, we enjoyed a mostly gray and quiet Sunday. Zing and I did walk over the yellow bridge later on, to inspect the current after the rains. The Sacramento River was rushing faster than ever, this time carrying large trees that must have fallen in the wind. Like the ocean, rivers are not to be messed with. 

I’m going to sleep now so I can wake up early and see if there is another encouraging note in the elevator. 

Love,

k

Cheered by a crowd

Written last night:

Dear Friends,
Tonight is calm; today was not. I thought the hard part was done when I finished some early financial details. Then I almost -- maybe actually-- lost all my emails. And my firewall was compromised so my Mac is beyond useless for now.  Everything will get worse or better -- I'm hoping better -- but in the meantime I'm in tech limbo. Which means I'm using my dear iPad. (*As of Sunday, all seems OK. Waiting for tech help call.)

About noon I was tooth- grindingly frustrated. To clear our heads, Zing and I joined the crowd in the Women's March that was going up the Mall to the Capitol building. We had a ticket. We met so many cheering people of all ages, genders, nationalities. I didn't get many photos because I was soon carrying Zing, who didn't know how to handle the excitement. Zing introduced me to many friendly people. We left when the music and speeches began. As we got back to our high-rise, the last of the parade was passing by N Street on the way to the Capitol, 5 or 6 blocks away. These were the slow marchers -- a limping man, a woman with a walker, and several others.  They were dogged. 

Then this evening I cooked beef burgundy, trying to make one so delicious that my great-grandmother rises from the dead to taste it. 

Love, 
k

Marchers, January 21, 20017, Sacramento
About those daisies in the foreground:
I saw a marcher by the Capitol with daisies on her sign and I told her it was  the best sign of all.
She gave me a piece of her bouquet.

Airport as bridge

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

It is relaxing to have your plane be an hour late — no rush! The young woman  next to me ( she’s a Princeton economics student.) is knitting and just modeled a Scandinavian-style ear-muffed hat for the truck driver on her other side. The driver is impressed. He is thinking of learning to knit, because he has lots of hours (“Sometimes six or more”) just sitting in the cab, waiting for his truck to be unloaded.

Over to my left is a river on the floor — an artwork of blue and green going down the middle of the hallway. I wish there was a description of the artist and the art — I wonder if this is modeled on a real river, like maybe the Sacramento or the American from around here. Without that information, it's just a squiggly shape to walk on. (It's not this river -- a carpet depicting 50 miles of the Sacramento River by Sayed Alavi on the airport bridge. )


One and a half hours to take-off … the woman at the American Airlines counter said things are screwed up because of weather; for one thing, there are 14 inches of snow in Portland, where her son lives, she said. “They don’t know how deal with snow there,” she said.

Really, I mean it, it’s fun. 

Love,
k

Returning again

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

I’m feeling overwhelmed as I prepare to leave again for Miami. It’s still a challenge to get ready. But this time I know how to do it. I’m almost packed, thanks to my “travel adviser” Rachel. I have a ride to the airport  — thanks to Sandra for the recommendation! I know Zing will be happy, first at Grateful Dog, and then with Sandra for the last couple of days. I’m leaving a clean apartment, thanks to Ale, the housekeeper who loves dogs and is obsessed with getting rid of dirt. (“I noticed the streaks on your table,” she said when I interviewed her.) Also today I’ve had help in understanding finances. Best of all, I’m looking forward to time off with the women in the family. We’ve been doing this since Mom died — relaxing and doing nothing  -- together. 

Also today my artist friend Leslie of the east coast called to say she’s on the west coast, visiting family. Somehow, that set my mind straight. The time difference can be a brain teaser. I hope that next time she’s here I'll be able to drive over and explore San Francisco with her. 

As I go to sleep now, I smell the cumin seed that I just toasted in the iron skillet, moving it with a wooden spoon so it wouldn’t burn, then crushing with my heavy-duty mortar and pestle.  I swear it is the soul of my black bean recipe, which has become a ritual for the sisters’ weekend. I’m taking a baggie of it to Miami. It’s a cooking spice. Honest. If you need proof, check out the black bean recipe on my blog.

There are many weather deterrents messing with plane schedules these days. I’m hoping for a smooth red-eye flight tomorrow night.

Love,
k

Rising river, howling wind

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Hard weather here, but you’d never know it to look at the street outside my building. No leaves, no twigs, etc. But a neighbor who was awake at 1 a.m. said there was a terrific wind howling then, and at about 5:30 Zing and I walked in the dusk across the Tower Bridge — the gold bridge that’s the extension of Capitol Mall -- just to see if the water was rising. And it was. The current was swift and swirling, and the trees along the shore on both sides were up to their knees in water. This is the area where the homeless sleep, so I imagine their beds are somewhere else tonight.

Faith, a 92-year-old woman who lives near here and who has lived in the area most of her life, said that the river used to flood every year, until they did some engineering and created locks and levees. (I just checked, and the locks have be "decommissioned.") But from what I hear on the news, we are not getting the worst of it. That’s along the rivers to the north and the east of here. It wasn’t even raining when Zing and I were walking. The drops began to fall as we got home.

Speaking of home, I have finally put maps of California and of Sacramento on my studio wall, so that I can see where I am.  It’s not exactly where I thought I was!

Love,

k

Rising water

Tower Bridge over the Sacramento River 

looking toward West Sacramento

about 5:30 p.m. Monday