Hope it don't fall into the sea...Part II

I woke to the sounds of helicopters and opened the blinds to see 10-story cranes coming from...the ocean? Apparently these oceanfront apartments just got a little more oceanfront.


And here I thought the rent was cheap because they only came with half-refrigerators and hot plates. So glad I care about having a stove!?

I was talking to Deb and Jerry on speakerphone about food storage, and Dad says, "We're just counting on you getting swallowed up by the ocean if anything happens." As the newspaper article says, "When it's time to go, you go."

See for yourself: www.ktvu.com/news/21993281/detail.html

Crosswalk

I made the mistake of wearing heels for 12 hours straight yesterday, and my legs are so tired today! As I started my trek to the train station, I was complaining in my head about the cold, the questionable characters, the smells, my tired legs, and just wishing I was home already.

In the space of a crosswalk, I passed an older woman running across the street to catch her transfer, a woman with no legs in an electric wheelchair, a young woman pushing her way across the crosswalk in a wheelchair, and a young mother holding a baby in one arm, holding the hand of a young toddler, and then calling after her young son to stay with her.

Boy, did I learn my lesson.

I've got a riddle for you...

An interesting conversation was had by my bus driver and an older gentleman in the middle of the bus wearing a Santa cap and carrying a rolling file box with a label reading "The Magic Man." The ride consisted of several "riddles," where the bus driver would essentially make up a mathematical story problem over the intercom. No one really got into it all that much, but that might have been because The Magic Man was giving each problem some serious thought. Here's how one of the "riddles" played out...

BD: How many days until Christmas?

TMM: That's a tough one.

BD: I'll give an all-night free transfer pass to the first person who can tell me how many days til Christmas.

TMM: I know it isn't 14, 'cause that would be 28. And it can't be 15, 'cause that would put you all the way into 205. (Yep. Two Hundred Five.)

Thankfully, The Magic Man finally got his free transfer pass, because if a horse starts out with 20 apples in his bucket, eats 10 for dinner, 6 for breakfast, and 4 for lunch, he ends up with no apples.

I guess I'll take a happy bus driver over a grumpy one any day, but I am still very curious about what was in that file box.

The Spoken Word

Back in October, I lost my camera. In November, my camera was stolen. Being robbed is a very disconcerting feeling, among many other disconcerting feelings I've experienced this month: a pay cut, almost drowning, losing love, an emergency room visit involving a speculum. Enough said. It's been a hard month. All this to say: no pictures=no blog?

Heirloom

I am the oldest of many grand-daughters. (If I were a clever blogger, I would have counted how many.) Most of them are married and mothering, and perhaps that is why they have mastered the recipe.

Grandma's Buns.

When we are all together, there is always plenty to do in the kitchen so that the buns and the pie-making (oops! did i just expose another genetic anomaly?) are best left to the others. This weekend, however, I had a surprising amount of free time with guests coming for Sunday dinner. Yeast was on sale. Flour was on sale. Oats were on sale. Even butter was on sale. It was a sure sign. On my last packet of yeast, I think I got it right.


On to the brussel sprouts.

Camoflauge

Last night I was surfing with all my gear (see previous post). As I was walking out to the water, someone told me I looked like a seal. (I've decided to not overanalyze that.) So I'm out in the water, and there is quite a lull. Out of nowhere, about 3 feet in front of me, pops up this little black spotted seal, much like the one in this picture. I just smiled, waited, and hoped there wasn't a shark nearby. After about a 5 minute stare-down, my little seal friend went on his way. I spotted him soon after, hanging out with another seal. I thought to myself, "Good. He finally found his buddy." Lo and behold, guess who came back to say hello? Couldn't shake him. It's official: I'm sharkbait.

Cat Vomit

There are plenty of great waves in Northern California. The dilemma has been deciding if I like surfing enough to endure a lengthy state of cold and discomfort after only 45 minutes in the water.
So when a coworker offered to pay me $100 if I'd feed her cats and clean up, among other things, their vomit, I knew exactly how I was going to spend the money.

Yes, I do like surfing in Northern California.

Friends in Town

And then I lost my camera.

Happiness in a Box

Three cheers for nieces and nephews.

Quick Fix

to a long day at work: New shoes waiting on my doorstep.

My Tribe

I sure do love this movie. I find myself wishing on a pretty regular basis that I was part of a tribe, or something like that, with brown skin and beautiful, thick hair.

So, I got to thinking about this whole idea of saving your tribe. And I got to thinking about all the things that need saving in our tribe. I guess I'm really glad I have a church to provide structure to that. And I have a lot to learn from little Pai--patience, love, belief in self, sacrifice.

I still wish I had brown skin.

Happy Bobbin'

Driving into the city to meet up with some friends, I was confronted head-on with some of my least favorite things about city-life: Traffic. Scantily-clad youth participating in some sort of self-destructive rite of passage. Vomit. Bad smells. Thankfully, I got the car parked, locked up, and we headed over to the park for some good times...

Peace, Love, and Dahlias.

Dusk in the park.

Jewels and Kat, soaking up the atmosphere.

Reppin' on MUNI.

It took us a while to get there, but Hardly Strictly Bluegrass at Golden Gate Park was worth it. We made it in time for a great little concert by World Party. Outside. Free. With lots of Happy bobbin'. I much prefer the happy bobbin'. It's a good sign that I don't care how silly it looks--rites of passage be gone. Happy bobbin' live on.

Santa Cruzin'

My pal Juleen flew in for a long weekend. We took advantage of some great weather and drove down the Great Highway to Santa Cruz:

Juleen and the Local Art

Strawberries, of course.


Communicating.

"Hope it don't fall into the sea"

After a weekend of sleeping, churching, and cooking spicy food (think garlic, ginger, curry, tom yum paste, lemongrass) with the hopes of feeling better, I flipped on my good friend PBS to find that the programming surrounding a much looked-forward-to miniseries about National Parks:

http://www.pbs.org/nationalparks/

was so inspiring, that I couldn't stay inside one minute longer. I pulled on a hoodie and cap, hopped into Sugarplum, and drove for about 5 minutes. Just in time to see this:

and this:

Yep, Lauren. They are all self-portraits. I'm that talented.

Mile 2

of my run around the neighborhood

Confession

I talk to the ocean.

Is it worth it?

I don't know a lot about antiques/collectables or how to research and get accurate information. Some of you do. If I paid around $180 for this 1920s Cal-Tile Table, did I get worked? Do antique people try to pull fast ones?

My Sister and I have a Game

We like to try and figure out which side of the family we most resemble. The Hatfields and the Otts both have their strong suits, so it's definitely more of a curiosity thing. And let me just say from the get-go, that both seem to have genes for aging quite gracefully.

Here are two pictures. I think both carry a strong resemblace. If you care to play, I'm inviting you to join the game.

This is my mom's mom, Grandma Jo. Late 70s.

This is my dad's sister, Aunt Mary Lynne. Early 70s.

Any guesses on what I'll look like in about 40 years?

Did you know

that when I was a little girl, I used to live very close to where I am currently living? I have decided that I am not a city girl, and am happy to have come to the decision that I belong on the peninsula. (Duh. Water on both sides.) And every time I cruise down El Camino Real, I vividly remember two places:

1. The Baskin Robbins where we would go after Family Home Evening every once in a while, and where, on one summer's Monday night, I witnessed my first car accident. A teenage boy with a very 1970s car and very 1970s hair--bloodied and broken after crashing into the huge post that held the old BR logo.

2. Going into this nursery with my parents, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents. The other day, my Uncle Jay asked me if I liked to garden. I said, "sure," because I've been renting for the past 15 years and don't have strong feelings one way or the other. "You're definitely a Hatfield," he replied. Well, the nursery is still here. I remembered it being such an exotic wonderland inside, so yesterday I took a little field trip.

Same sign. Not so same prices. Expensive nurseries: definitely not Hatfield.

This is pretty exotic, right?

It must've been fascinating at 30 inches.

Backpack Giveaway

On Saturday, my coworker Jane and I helped out at a community event giving free backpacks to kids. We also recruited members of the community to get involved and volunteer in public schools.

I made a graffiti wall for people to share what they have to offer:

Earlier this week, this woman got chastized at a meeting for interrupting me. She was basically just really excited about her new support group, Love Not Guns. When they asked her to stop talking, she just hugged me for about 30 seconds and apologized for interrupting. I guess she practices what she preaches.

We were right next to the zoo table. I'd never seen a hedgehog. My guess is that these cute kids hadn't either, although I was definitely more excited about it.

City Car Share

Although I'm still fleshing out* how I feel about my work at an SF CBO*, I do have access to some interesting things. For example, City Car Share lets you make a reservation online for a car, and then you are registered electronically in a power box stored in the windshield. You pick it up at a location of your convenience, use your fob* to get in and out of the car, and fill it up with gas (they give you a code) if it goes below half empty.

I love Toyota Tacomas, and so when I had my first service project and had to haul wheelbarrows across town, I was all over City Car Share. Well worth the walk to drive the truck instead of a van.

*If these sounded like strange and unnecessary ways of saying things, welcome to my new world.

Staircases

Public schools might not have a lot of money right now, but at this middle school, they've got some pretty sweet staircases:

When life slows down, maybe I'll start taking straight pictures.

Counting my Blessings

I haven't settled into a place where I can have meaningful exchanges with people at church, so, because it's Sunday, I would just like to share a few things on a religious note:

My last month in Mexico was a difficult stretch financially. I made a total of $40. (And that was because I was going in to work with the agreement that they didn't have to pay me. I prolonged the stretch portion of a class into yoga, et voila!) I received my deposit back from my apartment, and it was $200 less than what I expected. That $40 dollars was a day's worth of gas for my drive north. I needed it. But I was also about $80 behind on tithing. I made the decision to pay and "let the universe take care of the details."

I have wonderful friends and family. And they have all, very non-assumingly, been so generous with their homes. My friend Silvia let me be a part of her Long Beach life for a week! I stayed in Kelly and Hyrum's guest room for a month! My aunt and uncle are letting me stay here in Hillsborough (which, if you don't know Northern California, is beautiful) for as long as I need. I began to panic as I search for a place, because affordable has not been comfortable, and vice versa. I was in a dilemma of whether to share an apartment with some girls and be able to save over $500/month ($6000 a year!) versus what I would pay in my own place. Until last night, a posting magically appeared on Craigslist for an apartment leasing in the coastal town where I want to leave for even LESS than the rent of the shared apartment! I haven't seen it yet, and I don't even know if "this is the place," but I really felt like God has been listening to me and answering my prayers in His own quiet way. Perhaps it has been a coincidence, but I believe it to be directly connected to the law of tithing and to answered prayers.

So, if you made it to the end of that--you can ditch out of church after the sacrament! I had the English ward (singular) in my stake's time wrong, so my choices are Fijian, Tongan, Samoan, Chinese, or Spanish. Hasta luego, amigos!

Perks

When I was a teacher, I got three months of vacation and the free shirts were terrible. Now, I'm not a teacher. I get three weeks of vacation, that I have to earn 6.75 hours at a time, but at least the shirts are nice.

(shameless self-portrait, i know. give me a break, people. i am alone! no, i'm not alone. i have dressy.)

Dressy

A few weeks back, I posted about not being so much of a dog person. As life would have it, I am now dog-sitting a very sweet dog, and I am being very kind and very attentive, but it is still an adjustment.

Dressy has interrupted a number of my most recent phone calls, and I wanted people to be able to put a face with the dog. I also wanted to show off my new shirt that has my two most favorite colors from the 4th grade.

My New Job

On Thursday, July 30, I will be starting a new job. My title is School Resource Coordinator. I will be providing support to 5-6 needy schools in San Francisco Unified. I will be working more with administration, teachers, parents, community members, corporations, and volunteers. Hopefully I will get to interact every once in a while with some kids. It is a non-profit called San Francisco Education Fund. If you are interested, check it out:

http://www.sfedfund.org/

Here I go again.

Coonfeed 09

Altough I have been back to Iowa several times since, this was my first coonfeed since 1980. What is a coonfeed? Well, in Iowa, there is a lot of corn and beans. And racoons like corn and beans. And farmers don't like it when racoons eat corn and beans. So, there is such a thing as coon huntin'. My Grandpa Dale is a Coon Hunter. He has always had Coon Dogs until he got sick a while back. And in July, just when the corn is coming in, my mom's family has been having an Ott Family Coonfeed for many years.

The boys went golfing and so we all headed over for a cycle class at Uncle Harold's gym.

Yes, I ate racoon. It tasted like Spaghettios. I don't really like Spaghettios.

Me and my Grandma Jo


The Coon Hunter: Grandpa Dale

inching northward...San Francisco

My fabulous friend, Tracy, has soooo many talents. She is the go-to girl for a kick-ass wedding dress. (I am going to plug because I want to. She is starting a business resizing, refitting, revamping, remaking vintage or family heirloom wedding dresses. did i mention how talented she is?) She showed me her 1900s Victorian townhouse that they have gutted out and restored amazingly, walked me through some cool neighborhoods in SF, and talked me down after the post-interview panic attack.

A run early that morning at Sawyer Lake. Thanks, Uncle Jay.

I went back again today, got a bench halfway through my run, and just told God how thankful I am for all the blessings I have in my life. I have amazing friends, loving family, health, and opportunities. Although I may be in a current state of unrest, I am grateful.

A Day in LA

Just in case you think I am holed up, applying for jobs all day. I do get to see and do some interesting things:

Surfing in Manhattan Beach

What the...

For personal reference, I was hoping to catch the very handsome firefighters in the shot. Alas.

Almost makes the traffic worth it.