America's Breadbasket: Midwest? California?

Dear Friends, 

You know how great it is to be back, doing normal things after a little trip. That’s how I felt today. But Tuesday and Wednesday were also special to me, not only because of the way we three high school friends just sat down at a restaurant in Monterey and carried on conversations begun in the Bishop Hartley High School cafeteria, but also because I am finally feeling “normal” driving around California. Until now, I was afraid to drive freely across mountains and along the coast. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s the way I was. So it was a relief to feel comfortable driving through the Delta region to Monterey this week.

I loved seeing the aqueduct that carries water from the Sacramento-San Joaquin Rivers to the farms and also to LA. Water is such a powerful issue here. And there it was, just a straight, flat stream. I also loved seeing the fields where all the fruits and vegetables come from. As an Ohioan, I always considered the Midwest America’s breadbasket, but now I know it’s really California’s Central Valley. I loved driving through Watsonville and Gilroy. I took the truck route so as not to miss them. They are small towns with a heavily Spanish/Mexican flavor.

And then I bought some jam at this stand.

Love,

k

Hills across CA 152 from the farm stand

 

California 152 farm stand

Alex Styrsky: art hot and cool

Dear Friends,

Yesterday I took the train to San Francisco for the opening of an exhibit of mixed-media art by Bay Area artist Alex Styrsky, son of my good friends Pam and Joe. (Pam and I started teaching at Carrollton in Miami  on the same day and have been friends, along with Clark and Joe, ever since.) 

In his artist statement Alex says he is influenced by the Miami colors of his youth and the messy virtuosity of Bay Area Abstraction. I like that his work is large and mostly bright. Using paint, found papers and other materials, Alex coolly works outside the lines.

To see the art in person, go to the First Unitarian Universalist Society, 1187 Franklin St., San Francisco.

Love,

k

Madrigal
52" x 58"

Hodos
(I had to look it up!)
44" x 45"

Blue Medicine
42" x 60"

Leda
40" x 60"

Sunspots
44" x 50"

The Veil
66" x 48"
diptych

Eleuthra
48" x 48"

Alex Styrsky

Sweet, cool, casual

Written last night: 
Dear Friends,

It was so cool that you needed a sweater this evening. Everyone is saying this is not normal, but nobody’s complaining.

My mind is jumping around. (I’m watching the news.) 

It was an uneventful day — for me. I loved having an impromptu dinner with family in the courtyard restaurant around the corner, and talking on the phone with friends. Small pleasures are big. 

Love,

k

12" x 12"

Pecans with brown sugar

I was making these for a friend, but ... 

I burned a few. (They're still good.)

Just a simple Sunday visit

Written last night: 
Dear Friends,

Tonight Zing! and I are tired, and so must Wes and Jennifer be, because they've got jet lag as well  They are long-time Tallahassee friends — mother and son —  who stopped to see me on their summer California visit. I know they came to see me (well, Zing! more than me, maybe!) because today I learned once again that — much as I love it -- there is not a lot of allure to Sacramento itself. We had lunch at dog-friendly Zócalo restaurant and then wandered around the Golden 1 Arena plaza and over to Old Sac, where Jennifer somehow got us the last tickets on a riverside train ride. Yes, we could have gone to the museums, the Capitol, the Zoo … but this was enough, when what you want most is just to talk to old friends anyway. 

Tomorrow they head to more “interesting” spots. Today was great.*

(On re-reading this, I see I haven't -- maybe can't -- convey how deeply I feel about what seems to be just a simple Sunday visit. Thank you, Jennifer and Wes!) 

Love,

k

* I shouldn't disparage Sacramento too much -- they did get the general feeling that California might be a little bit ahead of Florida -- appreciating our many midtown murals, the Mexican music at Zócalo, skateboards as regular transportation, and the rolling watchdog/ computer-guard at Golden 1 Plaza. 

Feeling at home here and also there

Dear Friends,

A sure sign it’s home is that it is good to get back there, and I was glad to be back in Sacramento yesterday afternoon. I had a great visit in San Francisco, and am beginning to feel at home in that city too. Lesley (who spent the SF time with me) and I first met in a Miami writers' group, and we’ve been friends for more than 40 years; we hope to get together at least once a year from now on. Lesley is a musician as well as a poet, and it was new to see the world through her eyes: she told me serious musicians practice five-plus hours a day; she loves Bach, then Mozart (or was it Beethoven?), then someone else, whose name I forget. In addition, she named her favorite poets, and we discussed how art relates to contemporary events. Whew!

Oh, and we walked and shopped and enjoyed great food.

On the train home I read, then napped, then drew buildings as we quickly passed them, using simple lines and shapes before they disappeared from my memory. Then I napped again.

Love,

k

San Francisco Bay from the Bay Bridge yesterday

2017 Highlights

Written last night:
Dear Friends,
Most years I keep tabs on my personal highlights. Here’s 2017:

• Got settled in Sacramento
• Verna’s Girls (Verna Krumm — Mom) met in Key Biscayne MLK weekend. 
• Drove to Tahoe, Grass Valley, Placerville, Calaveras County, Amador County, Redding, Carmichael, Yosemite, Apple Valley, Lodi, Napa, Yountville
• Drew a lot
• Got some routines: exercise, farmers markets, chamber music
• Weddings — Gretchen and Rich; Jeffrey and Megan
• Visitors stayed here (all friends/no relatives YET!)
• Discovering Sacramento poets
• Miami visits
• American River walks
• Ukulele lessons
• I’m reading books
• I began to acquiesce

Nope— I still don’t know the difference between I-80 and I-5, and I got lost on my way to Ikea yesterday. Maybe in 2018!

Thank you for being here in 2017. Here’s to 2018!

k

San Francisco

Written last night:

Dear Friends, 

I’m not terrified to go to San Francisco anymore. I'm lucky to have friends who know the place well, and they have showed me some of their favorite places in the city. Sunday Mary Kaye and Leigh took me to lunch with a great view at the Beach Chalet; then we saw the Gustav Klimt exhibit at the Legion of Honor, which you may know as the museum where the famous sculpture The Thinker broods in the courtyard. The best thing, though, was laughing and talking together.

Love,

k

You can see the Golden Gate Bridge from the park 

surrounding the Legion of Honor,

This is the neighborhood where I stayed with my friends

We just played

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

I believe I played for the last 24 hours. With my visiting friend Midori I just had fun. Probably to look at us you wouldn’t immediately think !!FUN!!! but until Midori left for the airport this evening we did what we wanted (simple things: Midori was wow-ed by the farmers market under the freeway and she added a zesty Zentangle (she teaches that enjoyable approach to drawing) presence to my Sunday Crocker drawing class.) We shared a huge Thai dinner at The Coconut, and Zing joined us at our sidewalk table. We didn’t talk about heavy things, solve world problems, or pesky personal ones. We didn’t even do the breakfast and lunch dishes. We just played. 

Love,

k

At the Crocker

Midori's photo of Zing

She and Zing talked a lot

At The Crocker with Midori and our drawing teacher Erin O'Toole

Thai takeout just around the corner

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Zing and I just got back from “Movie Night” with our neighbors. We had some good talk and saw the story of Maya Angelou’s intensely artistic life. Z and I picked up some Thai food first. We waited for takeout at a sidewalk  table because dogs are not invited inside. (Uh-oh! I know what some of you are thinking! Safer outside, Zing!)

This morning we went to Wells-Fargo around the corner. Banks welcome Zing. Is it dog-friendly everywhere and I never noticed? 

Love,

k

and, yes, a dog

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

A year has passed and I am more “normal” now.

During that year I learned:

I hate the word grief.

Grief is not sadness.

Clark is in many ways alive.

Clark still loves me — us — now more than ever.

He believed in us and treasured us. 

I am lucky.

I have family 

I have friends

and, yes, a dog.

Love,

k

Neighbors become friends

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Tonight was the condo crawl, and it’s midnight -- two hours past my regular bedtime. 
A crawl means  you crawl back home.
I did manage to stay upright — by drinking half of each drink and I skipped the liqueur, but I am feeling relaxed and happy. It was wine, sangria, and liqueurs. Also food — delicious homemade hummus (this couple is vegan), something (dates?) wrapped in bacon with an almond in the middle, my tomato jam and candied pecans with crackers and mellow blue and goat cheeses from Trader Joe’s, a variety of things on crackers, and pastries (brownies, lemon bars, little pies … ) from Freeport Bakery. Not exactly a balanced meal, but delicious. My neighbors are interesting and so are their homes — each a variation on the same floor plan, with touches so individual that you’d never think you were in a cookie-cutter place. (I love mine best.) 

Love,
k

Properly, the tomato jam recipe belongs here, but I promise it's coming -- got to hurry to the Saturday farmers market before it closes. (Got up 2 hours late today -- Saturday!)
k

We met as seniors -- and we still are!

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It’s been a year since Carol and Susan and I met for lunch in the little town of Winters, 40 minutes from here,  and today we did it again. Carol came from Napa, where she and her husband are visiting, and Susan drove from her home in San Jose. Susan asked me why I didn’t keep in touch with them for a while (40 or 50 years!) since high school. These two were my closest friends in senior year (I only spent that one year at Columbus Hartley High School), and I can’t account for the gap, but here we are again — laughing and talking over lunch like we did in the cafeteria long ago. I suppose we are each quite different now — but who cares!?!? We talked about books, the cost of housing, how Boise, Idaho, is growing, how San Jose is growing, children, grandchildren, getting old and older, (avoiding politics mostly), keeping things and throwing them away, expectations and new possibilities for women…. and on and on. To be continued next year, or maybe in October in Boise, Idaho.  

Afterward, I went to the butcher shop down the street to get bones for Zing, and a woman on the sidewalk asked me where I get my hair cut. Not in Winters? No, in Sacramento. “I only get up there a couple times a year,: she said. “But I like your hair. I think I’m going to let my hair go gray too.”

Back in high school I never could have imagined such an encounter!

Love,
k

Yosemite -- Up, up, up

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

Maybe you’ve been to Yosemite. Surely you’ve seen the photos. Now I’ve been there too, with my own photos to prove it. Even though it’s only four hours away, I didn’t want to go. I was scared to drive up the mountains — petrified of the drop at the edge of the road. I'm used to Florida’s straight, flat ways; I thought I might get around to driving on a slant someday, just not yet.

But my visiting Tallahassee friends Lori and Andie insisted. They wouldn’t let me say no: they would go and I would drive ... Eeeek!

I feel Clark’s presence at the oddest moments, and he was there Monday morning, as I was driving my friends into the hills and California Route 120 started to rise. I felt Clark’s arm around my shoulder and I began driving like he would — confidently, with my eyes on the road and absolutely NOT glancing over the edge. And surprise! We made it to the top.

The park is stupendous, awe-inspiring, welcoming. If you’re into rock climbing, this is the place. Actually, come here if you love anything about rocks. (It’s also very crowded.) I can’t wait to return.

Love,

k

Our tram guide is a geologist

Visitors created these rock towers

Flowers and friends

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

It was a busy day with friends. No painting today — lots tomorrow. Here’s what I just finished (20” x 20”). It’s hanging in the bathroom, which could be an honor, or maybe not.

Love,

k

Across the street ... across the country

Sunday

Dear Friends,

I  am in bed. Zing is on the floor looking up at me. He’s saying, “What’s happening?" 

Our Tallahassee neighbors are visiting. They have an Airbnb, but Ana is staying the night with us — she’s in the studio-guest room, finishing up a painting before bed. 

Zing may be a little confused at the change in routine, but it’s happy confusion. 

Monday

My friends from Tallahassee are here.  I am exhausted and delighted. And lucky. Too tired to say more!

Tuesday 

Kit, Irene, Henry and Ana lived across the street from us in Tallahassee. Over 10 years we got to know each other well. This summer they are visiting friends and family all over California, and I am lucky they spent the last two days with me in Sacramento. I mean, who goes to Sacramento? My friends appreciated the place. Irene likes the way the old houses and the newer ones complement each other. And the tree-lined streets, she thought, are not only shady but welcoming. They give the place a sense of intimacy and scale. Kit, who works for the State of Florida, could feel a different political attitude in the capital  here, and he played Clark's ukulele. Ana liked my balcony. She stayed for two nights — the first person to sleep on the turquoise daybed. Last night we stood on the dark balcony and watched the colored lights and the swooping crows and the yellow bridge and Raley Field, all lit up with a baseball game. Enchanted, Ana wanted to sleep on the balcony, but I said no.

Henry, a self-aware teenager, showed me how to operate the TV remote, and he made me laugh. And Kit and Irene remember Clark well, so I may have cried a bit with them, but not much. 

Ana and I wanted to go to the California State Fair, but the others said it was too hot, They were right. Today we had lunch at a table under the trees at the Roosevelt Park farmers market, near where men were playing basketball and soccer at noon. It was cooler than yesterday, and there was a breeze. 

Seeing Sacramento with them made me feel like I belong here. And it made me realize how lucky I am to have dear friends who help me connect my past with the future.

Love, 

k

At a friend's table

Yesterday:

A friend and I were going to have dinner at a popular restaurant (Waterboy). Then something came up and we couldn't. Instead we shared leftovers at Janie's place, and I made oatmeal cookies.  It was just as much fun.

Oatmeal cookies
(from Gourmet cookbook)

Beat together until fluffy:

10 T. butter, softened
1/3 C. light brown sugar
1/4 C. granulated sugar

Mix in:
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla

Add and mix until just combined:
1 3/4 C. rolled oats (not quick variety)
3/4 C. flour
3/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. soda
1/2 tsp. salt

At this point it's all done. But you can add chocolate chips, fruits, etc. I used about a cup of toasted walnuts and 1/2 C. dried cranberries.

The recipe says make huge cookies of 1 heaping tablespoon each. I made smaller cookies. Put on parchment-covered baking sheets. Run your fingers under water and press each cookie down lightly. Bake at 375° about 12 minutes.

Connecting then with now

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

This morning I had a visit from Tallahassee friends Marsha and Frank, and while they were here it seemed so normal that I almost took them for granted. It was just like when they would stop by and talk with Clark and me. But since they left I have been feeling grateful over and over, deeper and deeper. — I just mean Wow! — how nice of them to stop on their drive to see relatives in San Francisco. We talked for two hours and they promised to come again next summer.

Their first impression was Sacramento’s trees, how green the place is, and I found myself being proud of the city as if I belong here. Then our conversation was peppered with casual references to Clark — how he grasped the world with a historical perspective and in a positive way, how he understood politics and cars and the way a refrigerator works. It wasn’t eulogizing — far from it! — it was just connecting then with now in a natural way that I loved. It was good to be with friends who shared Clark with me.

Love,
k