it was a chutney year

Peach chutney happens every two to three years as our supply is slowly eaten on leftover pork sandwiches and other various food items. Usually these edibles are leftovers of somewhat suspect taste and the chutney enhances or disguises the flavors. The peaches were purchased at our favorite farm stand on Deschutes Road heading home from a Lassen camping trip. It's a two day process to make the chutney on day one and on day two to can it. There is something about the canning process that I enjoy. A connection with the past, when "putting up" was a necessity rather than an option.

 

The 2013 camping season was a good one, but this tent location spoiled me for the year. Alas, not many places left in the state like this one. And if I find any, I will keep them a secret.

I will end my year blogs with as close as I get to going to church. The green church, known by many who frequent the eastside of the Sierra. And give a thanks for the happy event to come in 2014, when my next door neighbors Mike and Michael can legally marry. Let's hope the Giants have a better 2014, go Timmy. Looking forward to new calendars tomorrow and a new year.

is this santa gargoyle the true spirit of christmas?

I spotted this on my way to work this morning. Attempting to walk off some of the merriment of the past few days I had a brisk and quiet stroll to the air station. I think this icon pretty much sums up my feelings about Christmas. How can one not enjoy a holiday that includes a phone call to the south part of the state and a conversation with your seven year old niece who tells you she misses you. In fact, she really misses the cat. But I told her how much Gris-gris enjoyed his Christmas presents from her. And she is only seven, hopefully in years to come it really will be me who she misses. And my brother-in-law assures me that she does talk about Mike and I all the time. We might have to book a visit soon.

Gris-gris enjoying the presents from his cousin

some potent catnip in this mouse

We had neighbors drop by in the afternoon bringing gifts of homemade kahlua  and biscotti. And we received chutney and jam the night before. I've come to appreciated these gifts as the true spirit of the holiday. The spirit is there, you just have to avoid all the before, during, and after Christmas sales. In fact the Rettie household did not do much for retail sales this holiday period, unless you count food. We did more than our part for that segment of the economy. Now if only I can figure out what day of the week it is (midweek holidays are hard on us working folk) I may make it to New Years.

there are things I like about the holidaze

I received an email Christmas card today from someone I used to eat lunch with every Friday during my days in Emeryville. Healy and I would have a two item bento, usually tuna sashimi and california roll, salad instead of rice. We would dish people in the office, discuss sports and decorating ideas. Friday was known as "lunch with Healy day". It's been awhile since we've had lunch, but it's good to know he still thinks of me. A card arrived from England this week too, from Neil our second next door neighbor, the first set got their annual letter to us already, and we are having dinner with the first set on Christmas Eve, and Christmas brunch with the current set. People reach out from the past and present, and the simple notes in cards are appreciated. We've had a crab solstice dinner with friends and are cooking Christmas dinner to celebrate with others. I will have to get out my Mother's Christmas Tree Spode. Our New Years card will, hopefully, get out by the New Year.

view from the shop back door

I stood less than five feet away from this guy this morning. It was like he was posing for the belly department of the shop. An immature Redtail we've decided, often seen hunting rabbits on the point. Evidently he and Lucky (our building cat) have had stare downs, each one sizing up the other. Prey or predator?

air space

As I walked to work the other day I was struck by the seemingly vast empty space as I entered the naval air station. Walking up Oriskany there are no people in sight and the feeling is not unlike that of being out in the high desert. Except it is sea level and I'm walking on concrete and asphalt over land fill. There are people but they are behind large metal doors in high ceiling warehouses. There is a sense of abandonment, but not ugliness. And the walk to work is a walk towards the water of Seaplane Lagoon and a view of San Francisco. So there is a promise of a populated civilization.

a tree for the holidaze

This is a clamp tree, wooden clamps, used by woodworkers. Adorned with two strings of LED lights and topped with Superman. The tree skirt is a burlap coffee bean bag. Our shop provided the power and Superman, but Liz (blueberry pie baker) came up with the inspiration, and the ever important, execution. I like it. This morning when I pulled up at a very chilly 7:30 am it was guiding me into the building. Winter has come to Building 14, the piano shop has about the only heat in the facility. Not much heat, but enough that we take in cold woodworkers and offer them espresso. As Carl Nolte so eloquently wrote this weekend, winter comes to the Bay Area in December. And we ate our first crab of the season Saturday night. Two whole crabs, purchased live, cooked in the canning pot. Eaten with a triple levain baquette, a salad, and wine.

pie

my entry

Building 14 held a pie contest this afternoon. Seven entries, all different, one slightly disqualified (but consumed) because it was not technically a pie. We hesitate to call it annual, it may have to be seasonal, people are lining up to enter the next one. I entered the kitchen at 5:00 am this morning, because I knew competition would be tough and a pie baked the night before would not be given much credit.
 .

the trophy

pies lined up and numbered

Pumpkin chiffon, blackberry, persimmon/pear/dried cherry (my entry), apple, blueberry, key lime, fig galette (not a pie, but tasty); butter crust, crisco, lard, and variations; single crust, double, and lattice; scorecards at the ready.

 

 

eating, judging

In the end all were consumed, along with four pots of coffee, Java Rumba, of course.

not much left

And now to tally the scores.

our qualified staff adding up the points

And then the winner.

Sally Santner for her apple

Sally's pie was still warm (file this information away for next time), her butter crust exquisite, the apples crisp with raisins and nuts. By far the best apple pie I have ever eaten. Liz's blueberry, came in second, and my persimmon just a few points behind. Rhys said I had the best presentation (it was the basket), and Bob told me he liked mine the best. So at least I was first with someone. Just wait until next time.

possums

While downloading my day to Mike, well actually describing the lunch I had, I looked out the back door and slowly marching across the porch was a possum. He, she, was heading towards the water bowl we leave out for Gris-gris. Ah, that explains why the bowl is always tipped at a funny angle. The possum is short.

This is not a photo of our little fellow, but a close likeness. I like possums, they eat snails, don't carry rabies (being that they are marsupials), and have never bothered the cats, unlike the nasty raccoons, that have caused us several vet bills. And they are cute in a somewhat, well, possum-like, way.

fall back

I always enjoy this day of the year. Perhaps it's the extra hour of sleep, returned from springing forward. Also being an early morning riser, I am happy to get the hour of daylight in the morning rather that the evening. The days activities already have included reading the paper, breakfast, and the baking of a pear pie. The pie is to be enjoyed after our oyster expedition with friends. The final course in what, I am sure, will be a sumptuous meal.

chasing the minarets and aspens

A trip to the eastside of the Sierra the end of October is for the purpose of storing up the mountains, knowing it will be six months before the air and light will be visited again. The Minarets hold a fascination, and provide a focal point from many locations. Their jagged peaks are easily spotted. This summer smoke from the Aspen fire obscured them from our view. But they were on full display this month.

And while we missed the peak of the aspen color, there was still some left for us. We had seen the first leaves budding out the end of April, and now we were viewing the leaves falling.

the tree of life

A visit to the Oakland Museum yesterday gave way to inspiration for an early altar for Dia de los Muertos.

And a potluck neighborhood dinner filled the table with chili verde, homemade cornbread and tortillas, avocado and fruit salad, and apple cake. A feast was consumed. We learned from neighbors that the Chinese also have a tradition of visiting graveyards. Qingming Festival is usually celebrated on the 104th day after the winter solstice (or the 15th day from the Spring Equinox). I might have to add this to my list of holidays to celebrate.

10/10/13

the scene of the crime

the suspect

fall

I would say has fall officially started. Suddenly the shop is cold in the morning, and doesn't heat up during the day. My workmates and I come back from lunch and put on a layer of clothing to go back to work. Windows are being closed in the Rettie household. Not all of them, that takes a serious cold spell, but some. And Gris-gris appears next to me at 4:00 am seeking warmth. It could heat up again, but the light has changed and the leaves are trying to. Mike and I decided this was okay, for now. By December we will be ready for summer again. If we were independently wealthy we'd live in two hemispheres. We try to think positively. November the feast of St Dungeness occurs. And we keep thinking of field trips and outings to plan for the winter months. And October is baseball month. Listening to games recalls memories of my father and the early days of transistor radios.

The garden  flowers are gone from the window sill, I have to be content with red grape leaves on the fence. Trader Joes has candles in stock again. They consider them seasonal. A silly concept to me, we dine by candle light nightly. But now we can add more candlesticks to the table. And all my knitwear can come out of storage.

10/5/13

hanging out with a few friends

10/4/2013

Hazel

published in the Alameda Sun 10/3/2013

Had I known I was going to be appearing in a public newspaper, I might have combed my hair. At least my fingernails were clean. The photo I am holding was taken in 1941. Mike found the exact location. I think this may give us permanent Alameda residence status, something not easily achieved in this town. Both of our names were mentioned in the paper.

is it real?

This captured my eye yesterday, and I bent down to touch it. Exotic it maybe but not from anything local.

goverment shutdown

Entrance to Point Reyes National Seashore

A patient, not getting paid, ranger

We declared our own shutdown, and our household headed west. Feeling like supporting the economy, we stopped in San Anselmo on our way to Point Reyes where we visited a camera shop for Mike, and a yarn shop for me. Not spending too heavily, but spending in actual retail locations and not online was quite satisfying. Onto lunch at the Pine Cone (an oyster salad), and then after gathering some supplies for dinner, a stop at Cheda's Garage. Below a new sweatshirt for me, Mike's t-shirt will get mailed to him shortly. We have Cheda's Garage license plate holders on both of our cars, and it is interesting the number of times we have been asked about them. The last time being in Lassen Nation Park, where someone went out of his way to flag us down and question us. This gentleman was originally from Fairfax, and when he said "St. Rita's" I replied "St. Anselm's", our respective grammar schools.

Wandering around Point Reyes Station, I ran across this abalone shell farm behind the firehouse. I am hoping that simple wanderings will inspire my follow through on trying to post the photo of the day. There are plenty of opportunities out there, it just involves looking.

6th graders study the volcanoes

and Mike works on a time lapse of Mt. Lassen. Last year it was a group from Arcata, this year, Ukiah and Grass Valley. Eleven year olds seem to still posses a certain amount of innocence though, and can be amusing. Especially if you are camped far enough away from them. And I managed to dash into the showers just in the nick of time before an onslaught of dirty children, parents and teachers. Why Lassen is one of favorite camping spots is the coin showers. 5 quarters for 3 minutes, and you can add more one at a time if needed. The most either one of used was 7. But a hot shower is a luxury (and necessity) when camping. We were pushed up into loop D this trip, due to paving activities, but what we enjoyed, in the tent only loop, was no generators. I suppose someone with a tent could have a generator, but not likely. We did meet the German couple who had flown into San Francisco, done Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, now Lassen, and were on their way to the Redwoods, Crater Lake, Seattle, Alaska (they were flying) and then a drive to Boston. All in an all too short period of time. But they were young, and German. And camped next us were Talulah, and Annabelle, 6 year twins from Berkeley, with their parents, and grandmother. Six year old girls look pretty cute in the morning in their pajamas and Panda (that being "the panda" Sandoval), hats. The fishing was fantastic this trip (no we didn't eat any, it's catch and release), and my netting technique got to be quite good with much practice. It was one book, a hat and half, a complete scarf, and two more partial scarves. I like to keep those needles active. We have discovered pesto makes wonderful camping food. Bring those frozen leftovers from home and you have an almost instant meal. Wash down with red wine, and a good nights sleep is assured.

mama's in the factory she ain't got no shoes

After a long silence, I had a week that deserves some mention, if nothing else in it's extremes. One day I'm at the St. Frances Yacht Club eating a buffet spread unlike any I've ever seen before and the next day, the Hot Dog Truck parked beside Building 14. We had a "catered" building party and photo shoot. No dress code required. Although many of us tried to wipe the mustard off the front of our shirts before the photo session.
Building 14 crowd a little more to my social status, thankfully. But I watched the Red Bull Junior series final race from the yacht club. There was supposed to be a final, final race, but the winds exceeded the limit that the Coast Guard would allow them to race. So I just filled up my plate again.

the start, or shortly thereafter

these are only the AC 45's about to run into each other

To get a sense of Building 14, there is a new Alameda Point Studios website.  We are quite a group.
So if these events were not enough, I should mention, five hours of yoga on Monday, a barbeque at friends after that, and the Freight and Salvage for Highway 61 revisited Thursday night. The crowd at the Freight seemed to consist entirely of aging hippies like ourselves.
Oh, and we are getting used to our new, somewhat unconventional, house paint job.Please note our Alameda City flag.

turning 30 and other thoughts

Yumie is turning 30 this September. M2 (mom two), as I am referred to, is happy to report that she has landed a full time position, in her field. I haven't had many chances in my life (less than a week away from getting my senior national park pass) to boast of children's accomplishments. We have had some good ratters in our household, something that does have some benefits, but we have lived through many of our friends listings of their children's accomplishments with patient ears. So this is my turn. Congratulations, I say.
And oh, turning 30, I vaguely remember that. I think that is when my knees started to go.

 Vern was a good ratter

Now more than a month into the summer, the Leo birthdays have become, and the time seems to speed up. My blogging has slowed down, not for lack of subjects, but the inability to get them, as we used to say, down on paper.
Perhaps a listing of topics might work. I have subjects from the last two trips we took, and a trip to the Exploratorium with my 7 year niece that could be blogged. And then there always is the piano shop, which is currently bursting with pianos. But since this blogging business is supposed to be fun, I will just let the summer pass, almost unreported until my computer, words, and time all merge.

attention to detail

 

There are many aspects of my job that are boring and tedious. And then there are aspects that are tedious but satisfying. The above job was satisfying. I have discovered the screw grabber. Saves the fingers when using the wire wheel. Also keeps the tiniest screws from flying across the room into secret hiding places never to be seen again.

solstice

 

A sign of summer, my orange dragon flies have returned to the garden. 

made with love

I have made the same pie crust recipe for years. It is from my Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. You would think after all these years I would have the recipe in my head. And perhaps I do. But I enjoy opening the worn pages with the stains from many pies. And just perhaps I like to look at the inscription that my mother wrote when she gave me the cookbook.

how to post that hard to sell item on Ebay

 I am not making this up, a real posting from Mike's Sunday morning perusal of Ebay.

Overseas buyers please not that I do not ship via first class mail if you pay with paypal. UK buyers please contact me regarding alternative payment methods.

I accept returns however I will not renegotiate a new price, if you are unhappy with the item return it for a refund. Ask as many questions as you like before the end of the auction, thanks! :-)
Warning-Due to the Graphic nature of this story tender sensibilities may be offended. If you feel you may be in this group I suggest you read a different description.
Buddy,Can You Lend a Hand? #1
Paddy Kayk was the product of a marriage between a cargo steamer Captain Seamus Kayk and a young Chinese girl May Wong. The Captain plied the smaller ports along the Chinese coast delivering Irish linens and foodstuffs to the small expatriate communities scattered around the eastern edge of the vast land. The girl was alone in the world as her parents died in a house fire just a day before the rusty ship coughed and spluttered its way into port. She was sixteen, bedraggled and blackened by soot when Seamus set his eyes upon her.
It was an unsaid part of his job description to collect news to pass it on to the next little community down the way and being a man to enrich and embelish with a masterly choice of illustrative word, Seamus was greeted warmly wherever he went and would hold his news briefs in local tea houses surrounded by locals and expats alike with rapt attention.

May Wong sat in the corner lost in her misery but as Seamus regaled his audience with the goings on in the other towns she found herself drawn into his world and soon she forgot her own. At the conclusion of the evening she knew that this was a man she wanted to be with, Seamus having a fine and practiced eye for the fairer sex wasted no time in introducing himself. May had a difficult time understanding her language being spoken by a white man with a strong Irish accent but she managed to understand enough for the spell Seamus cast to take effect. At weeks end they were married and she left the small village by the sea never to return.

War had broken out and Seamus found himself in Los Angeles at the time stocking up on supplies. A trip home over the Atlantic was becoming a very risky proposition with the U-boats prowling so he decided to spend the war in California building fighter plane wing sections. Besides, he now had an extra mouth to feed, a wee lad called Paddy.

The years passed, speeding into decades and it became clear to everyone that Paddy had his Fathers wit and his Mothers delicate touch and eye for composition. When he wasn't in the kitchen baking he was toting an 8x10 Deardorff around Chinatown taking beautiful pictures of the people and streets. With some cash saved over the years Paddy opened a small bakery and lived above it. With his personality it became a local highlight, Paddy Kayk was renowned for making cakes of light texture and delicate flavour very quickly, It was said he could make, bake and ice a cake in fifteen minutes. So you can understand that it came as a great shock to this thriving little community when the bakery unexpectedly closed a few days. ...Neighbours knocked on his door and after several hours decided that something was terribly wrong, they broke down the door to find Paddy...dead.

It wasn't pretty, Paddy was slumped in a chair, a long stump hung limp where his right arm used to be, from the dried pools and splatters everywhere it was obvious that he had died from the great loss of blood. Curiously though...the room contained no arm. His camera stood in the corner on its tripod without any lenses, his wallet was still in his pocket. Robbery was obviously not a motive. Gang warfare was the verdict though close friends swore he had nothing to do with any illegal or immoral practices. They say time heals all wounds and there are probably few people who can remember Paddy now, except his good friends who still miss him.

The building that was once a bakery changed over to a bookstore then an antique shop, Fongs.

The upstairs rooms that housed Paddy were in sore need of refurbishment after fifty years of rental abuse. The new landlord called in his handyman John to replace the floor and spruce the place up. After removing the old mats and yellowed newspapers John swept the floor in preparation of replacement. He noticed one edge of a floorboard had a copper button, he hit it with his heel and the board shot up in a flash. The stout board halted just inches from his face, after a few seconds he looked into the secret compartment and almost fainted when he saw....

 

(actual crime scene photograph)

The mystery of Paddy's arm was over, there was no gang connection it was an accidental death resulting from Paddys love of his lenses, the ones that no-one could find all those years ago. After his mother was notified(Seamus had long since passed away) she called me as she wanted nothing to do with the lenses, the cause as she saw it of poor Paddys death. And with that the lenses that have remained in a secret compartment now come to the open market for all in the world to see.