dia de los muertos and the past two weeks

It was a minimal altar this year, but perhaps because the last two weeks in October were certainly not minimal. Normally November begins and I go into a bit of decline as the days shorten, camping season is over, the holidays are coming up, and the sports page holds no major interest. This year however, I'm looking forward to some quiet, and perhaps book reading in the early evening darkness.


October 16th found Mike and I heading to Point Area for Oz Farm and the wedding of our neighbors and friends Mike and Michael. We had signed on to the core group, staying at the farm, and hoping to be of some assistance. We were joined by a small but enthusiastic crew. The first major task was setting up the tent. And then setting up the tent again: the bubble of love When it came down on the first attempt, we crawled out from underneath and said, let's think this over. But this was a group to persevere, and we had a schedule. There were flowers to be arranged, and napkins to be folded. Decorations needed to go into place. A hardy soup dinner was prepared for us by Michael's mom. We all went to bed tired but happy.

And then came Friday, and cloudy skies. And then cloudier skies. And then rain. Hmmm, barbequing chicken could be difficult. Undeterred Mike and Jamie made provisions.

We were expecting close to 100 people for dinner, and we needed to move tables and chairs into the tent. Troops were called. Tables were decorated, chicken was cooked, vegetables were grilled, salad and baked beans were prepared  Somehow we managed to get it all into the tent. And then came dessert. The two who were in charge were delayed flying in from Dallas and Portland, meeting in Oakland and getting stuck in horrendous traffic. So they were seven hours late. And this was no simple dessert. There was ganache to be made, and melted marshmallow and caramel from scratch. And crushed biscotti and some form of nuts. And ice cream so solid from being on dry ice we just about needed chainsaw to cut it. Somewhere we found cups and spoons to put this all in, but by now it was raining in earnest, the tents was 150 yards away in the dark and with puddles. The dessert crew made a talent show all of their own, flinging ingredients, singing loudly, and with the help of someone I do not even know managed to carry and serve. The rye whiskey helped a bit, but I left the kitchen with a fearless sister-in-law Dolores attempting to manage the chaos of the aftermath. And then it rained steadily through the night.
Saturday morning, the day of the wedding, fearful of what the kitchen might look like Mike and I made our way back into the fray. The ever wonderful Jamie, had beat us into the kitchen, coffee was started, and we were soon joined by Kari, Barb, and the soon to be wed Mikes. A plan B was needed. Even if the tent wasn't a soggy mess filled with sugary leftovers, there was no way the increasing crowd would fit inside for the after wedding dinner. The Manchester Grange had been a backup plan, but in fact it had never been seen. So the Mikes took off to look at it with Kari and Barb, and Jamie, dessert Mike (who's name became ebola Mike, which will happen if you are specialist with the CDC) Mike and I set out to control the trash and a bit of carnage from the night before. I must say I do feel better about ebola in this country having met Mike Bell. He is a man of action. When the party returned from the Grange it was pronounced a lovely place, quite suitable for the evening meal. The caterer was called and again the troops we called in and all the tables, flowers, plates, glasses, and decorations were moved en masse  and setup at the Grange Hall. We returned to Oz with the final task to setup some chairs and tables for the ceremony. Assigned this task I completed with my inner drill sergeant coming out.

The gods then finally aligned with us. The ceremony took place in redwood grove, when the cello began playing a hawk called. The rain stopped, the sun came out, we were honored to give one of the seven blessings at the wedding:

"In the spirit of a cross-cultural ritual and hedging your bets, we have brought our personal Shankha horn, the emblem of the Hindu god Vishnu.

Vishnu is the giver of longevity, prosperity, fame, and the cleanser of sin.

With the sound of this horn, we ask all listening spirits and deities to bring our wonderful friends, Mike and Michael, long, happy and prosperous lives."
And then Mike sounded the conch.

We ate dinner with some other neighbors and left the Grange to be in bed at 8:15 pm exhausted. Up at 7:00 am we skipped out early, we had another adventure ahead of us. But there are memories and friendships that will last us well into the future.
We returned home for to unpack, and repack for a Monday morning 7:00 am flight to Albuquerque and onto Taos for yoga. To be honest, I'm not quite sure how I made it through Monday, but I did, and after a stop in Santa Fe at Cost Plus for wine we were at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House. Our group of 26 was great. Monday night we put down a bottle of wine at the table, with a couple of others adding. Tuesday night the table was full of bottles. My friend Nancy turned to me at dinner and said this isn't a yoga retreat, this a party with yoga on the side. The noise level increased and we all laughed our way through the week. Taos worked it's magic on all of us, the Rio Grande yielded a few trout for Mike. I walked the labyrinth everyday.

And then there was baseball.
I grew up in a family that followed sports, especially baseball. My father planned his fall vacations around the World Series. He would take a week off in October to be able to listen to games. Radio was the medium of broadcast. The seasons were shorter then, the system less complicated. Baseball was always a connection to a late older brother. At the very tender junior high age I became the scorekeeper for the junior league team my brother coached in Fairfax. Our major competition was the Point Reyes Station team. Those farm boys were strong and hard to beat. I have a memory of a triple play happening once and going over to Mary Giacomini who was doing the scoring for Point Reyes and asking her how do we write this in our play book? I can not remember whose team executed the triple play but I remember notations were not easy. So enter the Giants in 2014. Back in July is seemed impossible that they would find themselves in the world series. But come October and miracles were playing in front of me. When asked at the opening Taos yoga practice this year what our inspiration was, I answered "the Giants". There were laughs all around, but in truth it was not something I meant as a joke. I was inspired by the way they played as a team without egos. And an the unbelievable ability to not give up. But now I am wondering what I am going to do in the morning without all of the articles to read in the sporting green. And will they sign the Panda?