Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’…

Whenever I’m on the road, time distorts. It either goes by in a flash or seems to stand still.

Or both.

Looking back on the past five weeks, there’s really not a whole lot to write about. Yet, I’ve been very busy.

Eight shows a week is a relentless schedule, especially when half of them occur in only two days, over the weekends.

It is a predictable work routine which I am very comfortable with. Although demanding, I know what to expect. After many years of doing it, I have learned how to pace myself.

I am amused (and gratified) to see how my father’s strong work ethic manifests in my nature. Over the past two years of on-and-off employment, I seem to be happiest when I am working.

As a musician, this means playing. My work is my play and my play is my work!

Lately, it feels good to bring home a paycheck every week too. I’ve been fortunate to sub with Phantom for a few weeks, literally here and there, over the past year.

Here’s a shot of me playing the harp with Ringo and Rupert providing an ever-appreciative audience:

I am now down to my last five days (and seven shows) in Hartford CT. This is the second week of the run here; James and I arrived on April 21st.

I still have a hard time believing that I’m all the way across the country! This is a BIG piece of dirt.

We left the Airstream at the RV park in Kansas City because the northeastern part of the country is not very RV-friendly; there are very few places to park.

So we’ve brought just the truck the 1200 miles to the East Coast, and are staying in a Residence Inn just north of downtown Hartford. In fact, we stayed at this place the last time Phantom played here, back in early 2002.

Thankfully, the dog and cat are good travelers and good sports. They’re doing fine!

We stopped in Delaware on our way to Hartford to visit briefly with our dear friends Caroline and Peter, who had flown from England to stay with their family who moved to the States. It was wonderful to see them, even if for only a few hours.

Backtracking: our three weeks in Kansas City were pleasant; it’s always nicer to stay in our own little space, the tastefully and artistically decorated vintage Airstream. It’s a very comfortable environment, and works well for us.

It was also nice to be able to spend time with our good friends Jerry and Judy. It had been several years since we’d seen them, and we always have a good time together.

This usually involves visiting Kansas City’s fine art galleries, seeing movies, and eating at various restaurants, including KC’s famous barbeque. (Yes, we’re 99% vegan, ha ha!)

Jerry is an enthusiast of the French horn and has a large collection of instruments, hanging from bicycle hooks in his basement. In fact, we originally met in 2000 when Jerry found out that I was selling a horn. We became fast friends.

It’s always fun to play on his instruments, and Jerry often invites other area horn players to his house to play ensemble music when I’m in town. I was particularly gratified that the horn section of the Kansas City Symphony came one afternoon to play through my new horn quintet. They sounded great on it and were very complimentary.

One of the other players at this fun gathering commented that my piece should be in the standard horn ensemble repertoire. High praise, indeed!

This has inspired me to finish the other two movements. Until this latest flurry of activity to finish the first movement of the horn quintet in Kansas City, it has been a long time since I’ve composed any music for horn; all of my energies have been devoted to writing for recorder ensembles.

When we left California on March 27th, Spring had arrived a couple weeks earlier. In Kansas City, the season was just starting to manifest with little buds on the trees and slightly higher temperatures. Three weeks later on our two-day trip to Hartford, we discovered that Spring’s clock was turned back yet again a couple of weeks.

Until a few days ago, when the temperatures soared into the 90s. Crazy!

This morning it is a more seasonable 57 degrees, and the weather is expected to continue cooler through the remaining five days that we are here.

Today I am busy editing video footage that I took on our trip from California to Kansas City. When I finish doing that, I will finally post!

(Later: The total footage was too long to put into one video, so it’s in two parts.)

On The Road Again

Greetings from Kansas City!

I am here to play three weeks of Phantom. Then on April 20th, James and I will drive to Hartford, CT to play two weeks of the show there.

We look forward to visiting friends in New York City, Boston and Nashville after my five weeks of Phantom work are concluded on May 3rd. We should arrive back home in the Woods sometime during the second week of May.

We are staying in the Airstream trailer at an RV park in Merriam, just south of downtown Kansas City. We have parked here several times before; once with the show in 2001 and other times just passing through. This central location is a convenient stopping-place.

It is so good to be out of the car finally, after three long ten-hour days of driving to get here. On our return home we have decided to take four days to get back to California from Kansas City, which will be less wear and tear on our bodies.

Since my previous post, Winter has receded in the Woods, but it is not quite Spring yet up in the mountains.

The snow melted during the last week of February. The run-off from the higher mountains created a large amount of water rushing down the Yuba River. James and I awoke on the morning of the 24th to the sound of the river, which was positively roaring!

In the month since then, the signs of Spring have been subtle. The new season will intensify while we are gone, culminating in an explosion of lupin and bachelor buttons in the meadow by the time we return in mid-May. We can hardly wait!

In late February I took this picture of ladybugs (breeding?) on a holly bush close to the back porch.

A couple of weeks later, I checked the bush again:

In mid-March, temperatures crept up into the upper 60s during the day. James brought out the patio furniture which we installed on the back porch, and we enjoyed several lunches out there until it got cold again.

Springtime means that we can dry our clothes out on the line rather than in the Music Room (we don’t own a dryer). There’s nothing like the smell of sun-dried clothes!

Cat Rupert enjoys being outside more now that the snow has melted.

The only patch of snow which remained on March 13th was on the north side of the Music Room where the sun does not shine.

You can see the chimney which had fallen after the first heavy snowstorm in December. We didn’t hook up the new woodstove this Winter, as staying warm in the Airstream was much easier.

In my next post (which I will put up soon, I promise!) I will describe our current life in Kansas City, so very different from the one we have in the Woods.

A Snow Odyssey

It’s SO good to be home!

After our extensive time away from home from Thanksgiving through the beginning of February, it is a profound relief joy to be back in the Woods.

This spot has a certain laid-back pace which is best experienced at length. Although it is certainly possible to enjoy brief visits, it takes time to sink into the slower rhythm and deliberate, majestic beauty here.

It took a few days to settle in. At first, the profound silence seemed a little too quiet. Without the usual over-stimulation of the hordes in “civilization”, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had been immersed in the quick pace of the Bay area and of L.A. for nearly two months.

It did feel good to be working regularly, playing the horn, but I expended a great deal of energy.

Gradually I have relaxed back into the slower rhythm of this place. The puffiness under my eyes has receded. My city pallor has been replaced with a warm woodsy glow. The fat around my midsection is slowly melting away.

The first few days were mild and the traces of snow from the storm of January 26th finally disappeared.

James and Ringo and I take walks around the neighborhood every day, choosing new routes each time, passing by all the houses and cabins which are mostly unoccupied during the winter. It feels so good to be outdoors and get exercise, without the distractions of people all around us.

James and I are fortunate to be able to enjoy one another’s company on our own, although we do treasure our associations with family and friends.

Ringo the dog and Rupert the cat provide a surprising amount of company and entertainment. I can’t imagine not having a dog now, especially out here in the Woods.

I practice the horn every day to keep in shape, and have gotten back into playing the harp daily as well. It has taken quite a while to build up my callouses again, after months of not playing.

It snowed about four inches on the night of February 8th and I took some pictures the next day, on our usual walk.

James cleared a path leading from the trailer, parked in front of the barn, to the little road which we call our ‘driveway’. Both James and I have these incredibly warm, thick terrycloth robes with hoods which are wonderful to wear in the winter. Now we’ve started wearing them outside. I suppose that any passerby would think that they’ve encountered a monastery!

This one is of the intersection nearest our barn; the neighbors have probably put this unlikely figure here to guide visitors to their place:

Okay, let’s go up their driveway!

A few hundred feet takes us to their house:

Then we walked back to the intersection and went in the opposite direction, up the road (where we had gotten stuck just before Christmas) towards the main road:

James and Ringo stopped to let me take their picture.

Now let’s walk back home:

This tractor, which dates from 1947, has been a yard ornament for many years.

We walked around the other side of the barn to the north, where I took this shot of the outbuildings of the barn. The section to the right walled green tar paper is the Music Room. The porch on the end, facing west, is a great hangout except during the Winter months.

We went down through the meadow westward towards the river and I turned around to take this shot:

Then I faced the river. Winter is the only time of year that it can be easily seen from the top of the cliff, as the trees are bare. You can see the creek bed, which leads to the metal ladder going down to the little river beach, on the lower right side of the showing water.

We wended our way south along the bottom of the meadow, then continued through a section of woods. Ringo LOVES the snow! He acts very wolf-like in it. He enjoys running through it and eating it. I took a shot of Ringo and James playing frisbee:

We continued south up the hill to where James had arranged some ancient folding chairs (harvested from the treasure trove of the barn) last summer as a “usable art assemblage”. He wanted me to take shots of it in the snow. Here’s one:

Turn about is fair play, so I asked James to take a picture of me, with Ringo. He says that I look either Flemish or Russian in this outfit. Hey, it’s warm!

Last summer, we had moved this bench from the porch to the south side of the barn. I thought it looked interesting in the snow:

Back in the trailer, cat Rupert cried to go outside. Okay, kitty! Do you really want to deal with the snow? Here he is looking just a bit hesitant (but then he decided to proceed).

It snowed again the next day, February 10th. There was now a total of at least ten inches on the ground. I decided that it was a perfect time to take some video! The first consists of snow scenes, and the second is of James playing with Ringo in the meadow.

MORE SNOW: February 11th and 13th!

I’ve been working on this blog post for several days now and the pictures and videos of the snow keep piling up! Hang in there, folks, there’s more to come!

We woke up on the 12th to find that it had snowed during the night. The sky was crystal-clear blue yesterday morning, and the cold temperatures kept the snow piled on all the trees. These conditions made for some wonderful pictures.

Rupert does surprisingly well in the snow. Perhaps the fur growing between his toes helps him stay on top of things!

James encouraged me to take lots of pictures of our view to the south, where the snow had turned the deciduous trees into a sparkling filigree.

A closeup of a bush covered with snow:

Here’s a view of our main living space, the Airstream, parked next to the Bunkhouse. The liquid amber tree is sandwiched in-between the twin cedars:

This shot faces east. A few hundred yards further on is the infamous road where we’ve gotten stuck:

I faced in the opposite direction westward to take this shot of the hundred-year-old barn:

I walked down towards the meadow, then turned right (north) to take a shot of our little home on wheels.

Trudging through the ten inches of snow westward again, here’s the south end of the barn:

I rounded the corner of the barn and faced northwest to take this wonderful brilliant-blue shot:

Turning slightly to the left with each new shot to face more directly west:

I also took some video footage of yesterday morning. James, Rupert and Ringo co-star:

UPDATE:
It snowed yet again overnight, and we woke up to find a foot and a half of new snow this morning! It’s nearly two feet deep now.

I took yet MORE video of this amazing event and will edit it soon. Meanwhile, you have quite enough to wade through in today’s post!

A New Year in various Places

Over the past month, James and I have lived at the beach in Pacifica, the central valley in Sacramento, back at our home in the mountains, and NOW, in the completely different vibe of LA-LA land.

Backtracking…

The Beach
We spent the first day of 2009 with my cousin S. She lives in a quaint fisherman’s cottage, a stone’s-throw from Half Moon Bay.

It was a gorgeous noon, sunny and mild. We walked along the water along with many other beach wanderers and enjoyed the springlike weather, and laughed at S.’s two dogs frolicking with the crowd and other canines.

Here’s a shot of a little Australian boy who was perfect for the camera:

I’ve very much enjoyed reconnecting with my cousin, who I hadn’t seen in thirty years.

We had been very close as kids, since S. lived in San Francisco and I was in Sacramento, and our families would get together several times a year.

In high school I moved to the East coast and I didn’t see S. again until after I’d graduated, when I visited the West coast. Then we went off to our respective music conservatories (Cincinnati, Baltimore) during our college years.

Until recently, I hadn’t seen S. since she was in Baltimore, at the end of 1978. I was in the city for an audition with the orchestra, and stayed with my cousin and her college roommates in a big, rambling house that they rented. (I was playing in the Nashville Symphony at the time.)

Working in the San Francisco bay area for six weeks during the holidays provided me with a chance to connect with a few friends and relatives that I hadn’t seen in years. But the show schedule is always relentless and it was challenging to set aside little chunks of free time to see people.

I’m glad that S. and I found time to visit on two occasions during my sojourn in the Bay area. I look forward to having her come visit us in the Woods when the weather warms up.

Here are some shots taken during our stay at the San Francisco RV resort in Pacifica:

I faced away from the beach as I took this picture on the night of a Full Moon:

The view towards the ocean:

Early on in our visit, I had James take this shot of Ringo and me:

Rupert trying out his new scratching post:

It was challenging to practice horn in the small space of the trailer. I used a mute to dampen the sound.

Whenever James and I walked a few blocks to the grocery store with Ringo, I stayed outside with the dog while James went inside to shop. I sat on a nearby bench and watched the passerby, many of whom smiled at Ringo and often stopped to chat. Having a dog is a good way to meet people!

I finished the very successful Phantom run in San Francisco on January 4th, then had a rehearsal with the Modesto Symphony (in the central valley) the next evening. James and I made the two-hour drive there and back the same day, arriving back in Pacifica at midnight.

We decided to stay at the beach a couple more days, to allow the road conditions to further improve at home in the Woods. We didn’t want to repeat the disaster of getting stuck as we had on our previous visit! Every mild day that passed would increase our chances of being able to get our trailer back up the hill and parked in front of our barn.

The Valley
We left the beach on the 7th and went to Sacramento (on the way home) to see our family. We had regretted missing them at Christmas and looked forward to spending time with my brother, his wife and my niece and nephew. The latter was home from music school in Boston and I was anxious to hear about his first months there. He’s maturing so quickly!

Originally we had planned to spend only a few days in Sacramento, staying in our Airstream parked in the family driveway, and then venture on up the hill for home.

But a drive up to the Woods for a brief exploratory visit that weekend convinced us to wait another few days, as that last steep dirt road to our place (where we had gotten stuck just before Christmas) was still covered with ice and snow. Nearly a foot of snow continued to blanket the meadow and area around the barn, which doesn’t get much sun this time of year. It would be very difficult to back the trailer over that slippery mess. It was best to wait a few more days.

So it was fine to go back down to the valley to hang out with the family, and had a lovely visit. There were many excellent meals alternately prepared by my sister-in-law and James, while my brother is a master at the barbeque grill.

My niece and nephew, home from college on break, had a steady stream of their friends in and out of the house. The place was very much enlivened by their presence and we all enjoyed each other’s company, an extended family. There were several meals in which we managed to fit ten people around the huge round table in the diningroom. What fun!

James and I both preferred staying in our Airstream in the driveway rather than in the guest house as we usually do when we visit the family in Sacramento, because it’s our own familiar, intimate space. It also minimized the hectic atmosphere in the main house, at least a little bit.

My father designed and built this adobe brick house in 1952, and it is amazing that it continues to be the family home.

The weather in Sacramento was unseasonably sunny and warm for January. The standard winter day there usually entails fog and cool temperatures. We were very thankful that the weather was so nice while we were there, although the region desperately needs rain.

Meanwhile, much of the rest of the country suffered with snow and sub-freezing temperatures. Living in California can feel like being on another planet, in more ways than one! (Especially in the southern portion of the state, which I’ll get to in a moment.)

The Woods
We finally took our leave of the family in Sacramento on the 18th, and towed the Airstream back up to our home in the Woods. There were a few slippery sections on the steep dirt road where it was shady, but not enough to pose a serious problem.

However, there was still quite a bit of ice and snow in front of the barn where we wanted to park the trailer.

The truck’s wheels spun on the ice as we tried to back up the rig to level it properly. We spent the next hour-and-a-half trying to move it a few inches. We finally thought of putting tire doormats under the truck’s back wheels, which helped.

A neighbor happened to pass by and he suggested that we put a series of boards under the trailer wheels rather than try to back it up on the large metal chocks, which we usually use to level the trailer on uneven ground.

This worked! The trailer was finally level, on a combination of snow, ice and mud.

Besplattered with mud from head to toe, we thanked the neighbor and James filled the Airstream’s water tank directly from the well so that we could have running water inside. He needed to replace the pipes by the pump and by the faucet in the barn that had burst in our absence.

It was so nice to be home!

The peace and quiet. The lovely views of evergreens and mountains.

Temperatures were mild all last week and the snow and ice gradually receded, helped along by much-needed rain for several days. The trailer needed to be leveled again as the ice melted.

Here is a shot of the snow behind the barn, near the meadow. This area doesn’t get much sunshine during the winter as the sun dips behind the mountain in early afternoon. As you can see, there was still plenty of snow even a month after the storm:

It was quite different to live in the trailer rather than in the Music Room as we had done last year. The Airstream is so much easier to heat! James had basically spent three months last winter tending the woodstove, so we wanted to see what it was like to spend the winter in the trailer this time. As we had lived in it full-time since before Thanksgiving anyway, it was a very familiar, comfortable feeling to be in that small, cozy space.

We still need to install the new woodstove in the Music Room. Meanwhile, we are using a combination of kerosene heater and small portable electric heater, which warms up the large room quite adequately during my horn practicing sessions.

I needed to keep in strong playing shape for my upcoming stint on Principal horn in Phantom in Los Angeles this week. I prefer playing the horn in the Music Room rather than in the small confines of the trailer. Brass instruments like a lot of space!

It was also nice to play my three harps again. I had to devote quite a bit of time tuning them, as the cold temperatures had changed the strings’ pitch, and a couple of strings had snapped.

It always amazes me how musical instruments feel “dead” when they haven’t been played in a while, and how they magically come alive when they are played.

Of course, our dog Ringo loves the Woods. The wolf part in him definitely comes out as we walk the trails. It was nice not to have to pick up his poop as we did at the RV park at the beach, and he was much more calm not having to sniff the traces of numerous other dogs.

The week went by in a pleasant blur. Neither of us wanted to leave our beautiful slice of heaven on Sunday, but duty called! We needed to get to Los Angeles for my week of Phantom.

We woke up on Sunday morning to find three inches of new snow on the ground! And it was still snowing heavily at 9:30 a.m.

We had intended to leave the Woods in late afternoon, but decided to get the heck out of there immediately, before the roads became difficult to navigate.

So we threw a minimum of things together and packed them into the car, along with the dog and cat, and managed to escape just in time.

It amazed me that only twenty miles down the hill, there was no snow whatsoever in Nevada City.

We spent the day at my brother’s house in Sacramento, and stayed overnight. Although the kids are back at college, one of my nephew’s friends is staying in the guest-house and the five of us had an enjoyable dinner together at the Big house.

We left Sacramento at 10 a.m. on Monday morning.

LA-LA land
The weather on our drive down the state was beautiful — sunny and cool. Interstate 5 is often a very boring road to travel, but it is considerably faster than State highway 99.

We arrived at the huge, sprawling apartment complex at Toluca Lake (in the Hollywood Hills) in late afternoon. Traffic was zippy and aggressive but not too horrible on Highway 101 going towards L.A. at 4 p.m. I imagine that it got worse not long after.

We’re staying in a one-bedroom corporate apartment which is completely furnished. It feels HUGE to us! We would have preferred a studio but they were all taken.

This complex was built in the ’70s and has seen better days, although it is certainly tolerable for one week. Our apartment is on the end of the building and has nice wrap-around windows in the corner of the livingroom.

At the front desk, I had to sign an affidavit accepting the fact that the walls contain lead. “Don’t be licking the walls,” the clerk quipped.

There are twenty-six large buildings nestled in these hills, from A to Z. We are in building Q. No comment! 

Parking is at a premium. The tiny, narrow spaces fill up completely in the late afternoon after work. When James picked me up from the theatre at 10:45 p.m., we had to park in another lot further away from our building.

After we had brought our possessions into the apartment and made a cup of tea, we ventured out to a nearby Vons grocery store (in Hollywood) for supplies.

What a trip that store was.

Lots of trendy, packaged foods. Young women wearing black jeans and t-shirts with gold sequins, spelling “PINK” on their butts. Older women in power black suits with lots of gold jewelry and major attitude. People racing their shopping carts with great urgency down the narrow aisles, as if they were speeding in their cars down the congested highways.

Everyone on cell phones.

I imagined that there would be a wide selection of health foods since Southern California has such an emphasis on keeping fit. There was indeed a wide array of juice drinks in attractive bottles, but not many natural juices. There was no bulk food health section. Almost everything is packaged in eye-catching and glitzy ways.

The produce was adequate but not inspired. The aisles were very narrow and the attitudinal women racing here and there got on my nerves.

All of a sudden, all the commercials and TV programs make much more sense, watched in this setting of L.A. It’s like a light bulb has gone off in my head. Most of the commercials here are different than the ones shown further north. I have never seen so many weight loss, home fitness “systems” and weight-reduction surgery ads as I have here!

My first Phantom show of the week was on Tuesday night at the Pantages Theatre, on Hollywood Boulevard in Los Angeles.

It dates from 1930. You can read its history here

The orchestra pit is twelve feet below stage level, so most of its occupants are invisible to the audience. I was amazed at how informal the musicians can be in such a setting, unseen by the public.

Several players have tables next to their music stands, where they surf the Net on laptop computers. Others are busy online with their PDAs. There is quiet laughing, joking and talking while the show is in progress, when the musicians aren’t playing.

This behavior would not be allowed amongst the traveling musicians on the road. But this is a different kind of situation, with mostly local musicians who play regularly in that particular venue. Most pits are visible from the audience, but the one at Pantages is not.

The locals have been very welcoming and complimentary to me, which I appreciate. I will enjoy the week, but am greatly looking forward to spending more time at home. At last!

Just Another Day (to celebrate)

James and I often say that “every day is Christmas with us” because we give each other whatever we want whenever we want. We don’t wait for holidays to spread good cheer, spend quality time with family and friends or give gifts.

We hope that all of you are having a wonderful holiday season!

So here we are, enconsed in our little Airstream travel trailer, parked on a large stretch of concrete overlooking the Pacific Ocean on this December 25th.

James reminded me this morning that this is our ELEVENTH Christmas spent together. Truly, his presence in my life is the best present that I receive each year.

The ocean is very choppy this afternoon because of a storm which swept through this morning. Spatters of rain turned to a downpour and the winds buffeted our little silver lozenge at nearly hurricane force. Then it passed, and all day it has been sunny, very windy and a brisk beachside 47 degrees.

This is the first time since Thanksgiving weekend that this RV resort is so crowded. The row of spaces closest to the ocean were mostly occupied earlier today; usually they’re empty because they’re very expensive. The two RVs immediately opposite our site which had blocked our view of the ocean are now gone, hooray.

We had originally planned to spend Christmas with my family in Sacramento, but we’re totally exhausted from our recent near-disaster experience getting stuck in the snow in The Woods on my one day off per week, on Monday. We just aren’t up to driving through heavy holiday traffic today, so we’re staying put. (The family totally understands.)

Besides, I have two shows tomorrow and I would be very tired after such a trip. No need to add stress to an already demanding week of shows.

This six-week run of “Phantom” in San Francisco has been intense, but good in many ways. It’s been nice to be regularly employed, and to make new connections with local musicians here.

We’ve also enjoyed living in our Airstream on more of a full-time basis again, getting back into the rhythm of the show routine which is so very familiar after many years of doing it.

James takes total care of me while I play eight shows a week. I wouldn’t want to do this relentless schedule without his loving, supportive presence. James makes it possible for me to perform this job night after night, week after week. It’s a demanding work routine, and his help is invaluable.

In addition to all the homemaking duties he performs to make our lives run like clockwork, he drives me to and from the train station in Colma, only a ten-minute trip from Pacifica. Then the commute is generally 15 minutes to the Civic Center stop in San Francisco, which dumps me directly at the front of the Orpheum Theatre.

Generally the trains are dependable, although I was delayed BIG-time three Sundays ago, when track maintenance and some other mysterious event (police were dashing by the our train windows, looking in, at one station) turned a 15-minute trip into nearly an hour! I made it to my chair in the theatre pit a bare two minutes before the show started.

That commuting day was very stressful, so I’ve been leaving “home” fifteen minutes earlier to give myself a bit more of a time-buffer. I’d much rather arrive early at the theatre than late.

Such is life in the Big City.  So many people depend on services like transportation and electricity, so it’s much more dramatic when they’re not available.

We have made the eight-hour round trip back to our place in The Woods twice during this run; the first time was at the beginning of this month when I wrote my most recent blog post.

The second time was this past Monday. It turned out to be “The Day off from Hell”! Nothing turned out the way we planned.

There was a heavy snowstorm in the Sierras the previous week. Even nearby Nevada City, at slightly less than 2500 feet elevation, received six inches of the white stuff.

Our nearest neighbor Darren told us that at least a foot of snow fell in our meadow, but the steep dirt roads leading to our property were reasonably clear. He was able to get his 4-wheel drive truck up the hill without chains.

We had forgotten to take our chains back to the Bay area after our previous visit in early December (dumb!) so we hoped that we’d be able to get our little car up the hill without them.

No way! We spun out about halfway up the first steep hill leading out from town.

We needed to retrieve our chains from the barn, so we backed the car down to the campground on the main street to see our friend Rich, who had an ATV — an all-terrain vehicle which can negotiate snowy roads.

James rode on the back of Rich’s ATV briefly last summer, but had never driven one. And I’d never even been on one.

Rich showed James how to shift the gears and operate the accelerator (on the right handlebar) and I clambered onto the tiny extension just behind the main seat. With a few little jerks, fits and starts, we were off!

It started snowing as I clung to James for dear life as we buzzed up the snowy, steep hill from town. We quickly passed the point at which the car had not gotten any further, and flew on.

We reached the crest of the hill and went through the gate, then it was downhill the remaining half a mile to our place. We both whooped and hollered with excitement (and on my part, a bit of fear) as we zoomed along in the gathering dusk.

There were a few moments when the ATV slipped and slid a little on the slippery road, but basically it held fast as we flew down through the winter wonderland to our barn like birds.

We got the chains and had an equally exciting mile’s ride back up and down the hills to the campground.

We thanked Rich for lending us his ATV, and then drove the car slowly to the beginning of the road leading up the hill which was still paved, and put on the chains.

This took quite a while in the heavy snowfall and in the dark. Also, it had been a year since James had put on the chains last, so it required some time to refresh his memory.

At last, we were underway up the hill, which had never looked so steep to me as it did at that moment. I held my breath as we approached the slippery section where the car had stopped previously, then let it out with a gust of relief as we successfully passed the trouble spot.

As we approached the short driveway leading to our barn, we decided to back up the car just far enough to clear the road, as it might be difficult to drive out again in the heavy snow.

It was completely dark by this time, and James didn’t see the low bush of pampas grass (which the previous owner had planted, years ago — definitely NOT an indigenous plant!)  which was partly buried in the snow behind us.

Crunch! We backed into the bush and dislodged the right lower portion of the bumper; the clips snapped off. James told me that this part of the bumper is called the “ground effects”.

It doesn’t appear to be damaged and all that (hopefully) needs to be replaced are the clips.

Well, at least we were home, finally!

We made several trips trudging through the snow to the barn with our belongings, including a couple of barrels of kerosene for our heater. We haven’t put in last year’s new wood stove yet, and have been using the kerosene heater supplemented by a small electric space heater on the few occasions of cold weather this season. Up until a week ago, it was a very mild winter in The Woods — unlike last year when we started burning wood in late October.

When we departed The Woods a few weeks ago after our first day off, James left the water trickling so we had running water for the toilet (still no working sink in the bathroom or summer kitchen, but this will happen eventually).

We pulled out our laptops and got online. I had to laugh when I thought of what a juxtaposition of elements is present here — we live in a shack in the middle of the woods with satellite internet access!

For dinner, James boiled water in a pot on our little propane stove, and threw in a frozen bag of cream chipped beef. This is affectionately known as “S**t on a Shingle”. He put some bread slices in the toaster oven and we soon had a very nice meal, eaten in bed snuggled under the covers while watching a DVD.

Overnight, it snowed a couple of inches. We got up early on Tuesday to give ourselves what we thought was plenty of time to get to James’ dental appointment near Nevada City.

Since our car had made it home fine with the chains, we didn’t think that there would be a problem getting OUT.

This was not to be.

We got in the car at 9:20, cranked it up and slowly crept up the driveway. Before the first big curve — where the grade rises — we got stuck.

James spun the front wheels in an attempt to gain traction, and ended up dislodging the chain on the right wheel. Part of the link assembly flew into the snow; it took a few minutes to find, and then a considerable amount of time to reattach it properly and then put the chains back on.

The clock was ticking. We didn’t have much time to make the dental appointment.

Chains back on. We got stuck again approaching that curve, so I retrieved the snow shovels from the barn and cleared out tracks at the steepest part.

James managed to get past this successfully, driving up the left fork of the road instead of the steeper right, then turned around to get a running start to make the right fork.

Success. Then the steepest part of hill remained. This was just before the smaller dirt road joins the larger dirt road leading down to town.

No matter what we tried, we just couldn’t get past this section, which was steep and extremely slushy now from the additional snowfall, along with slightly higher temperatures in late morning.

We walked back the quarter-mile to the barn and called our neighbor Buck, who’s also the town’s Postmaster. He agreed to come tow us out with his 4-wheel drive truck after the mail had arrived and been sorted; he could spare a few moments from the Post Office in order to help us.

Since our laptops were still in the car, we decided to play dominoes while waiting for Buck to call.

James notified the dentist that we wouldn’t be able to make his appointment, but managed to get it re-scheduled for later in the afternoon.

Over an hour went by and then the phone finally rang; Buck said that the mail still hadn’t come in because the county road was still icy, so he had to stay at the Post Office to wait for it to come in.

So then I recommended that we call Don, who owns and operates the town’s campground (where we lived temporarily in the summer of  ‘07 while we got our place ready for habitation) to see if he could help us.

Don immediately agreed — hooray!

James had to call and cancel his rescheduled dental appointment; too much time had passed by then and we just couldn’t make it.

We closed up the house again and trudged back up the slushy hill to our marooned car in the middle of the road, to meet Don.

At the top of the hill where the two dirt roads join, we saw a truck towing another truck up the hill. They had come down the road, hoping to check on their place located further down the hill than our barn, only to discover our car blocking the way. The one truck which had come down the hill tried backing up and got stuck.

Luckily the truck behind them was able to tow them out.

Don arrived at just that moment with HIS truck to help us. The other trucks managed to get out of the way and Don backed down the hill towards our car.

It seemed strange to us that Don didn’t put on his chains beforehand, but since the other 4-wheel drive truck had been able to get out without them (barely), he assumed that he could, too.

Well, he promptly got stuck himself.

So we spent the next 45 minutes trying to dig and push Don out, unsuccessfully. More time was spent putting on the chains, then he was finally able to gain some traction up the hill!

He backed up towards our car and we linked together several long sections of heavy chain. Then it took a while to find a spot under the front of our car to attach the chain to.

At last we were all linked up and ready to go! Don’s truck made it up the hill and he successfully pulled our car out.

WHEW!

We detached from Don’s truck, thanking him profusely for his help.

From there, it was a relatively easy matter for us to make it up the gently sloping hill to the gate, then steeply downhill to town.

We stopped at the Post Office at the bottom of the hill, where the mail had finally arrived at 2 p.m. (several hours late) and picked up our mail which had accumulated over the past three weeks.

It was now 2:30 and we had to drive back to San Francisco in time for my 8:00 show.

This might have seemed like plenty of time to make the nearly four-hour drive, but the highways between Nevada City and San Francisco tend to be crowded during late afternoon rush-hour. Plus, there would be especially heavy traffic two days before Christmas.

Well, we got all of that, and more!

We were delayed several times near Sacramento, then again as we approached the densely populated Bay Area.

It was 5:30 when we realized that we would never make it back to where our trailer is parked in Pacifica, south of San Francisco, with enough time for me to change into my black pit clothes, then take the train back up to the City to the theatre for the show.

I needed to find a department store to buy new black clothes, then James would drop me off at an outlying train station to get to San Francisco. This would provide me with an extra hour of time.

We remembered that there was a Marshall’s in Walnut Creek, so we struggled through the holiday shopping traffic to get to the store, found a suitable pair of black dress pants and a collared shirt, waited fifteen minutes in the checkout line and then James got me to the Lafayette train station.

Twisting and turning in the passenger seat, I changed into the black clothes as James drove.

I caught the 6:20 train into the City, and arrived at the Orpheum Theatre by 7:05 — an hour before the show started. I wouldn’t have made it in time had I tried to go “home” first.

WHEW again. What a day.

Needless to say, both James and I were exhausted. We still are.

During one of our highway-as-parking-lot-moments near Sacramento, James made the wonderful suggestion that we beg off our family visit on Christmas Day, and just stay put in our trailer parked in Pacifica instead. Neither of us wanted to travel after our recent disaster — especially with double show days immediately before and after the 25th.

Great idea!

I was thankful that James took the initiative to email my sister-in-law in Sacramento to tell her about our adventure and that we wouldn’t be there for the holiday.

My family understands completely, and the “funny” thing is, they had just returned from visiting some of her relatives who live in Pacifica (quite near where we’re currently parked at the beach) and it had taken them nearly four hours to drive back to Sacramento. This is normally a two-hour trip. It was the same day that we were driving in the opposite direction to get me to the show.

I think that it was easier for them to understand our wishes to stay put, now, after having had this experience being stuck in heavy traffic themselves!

So here we are. James has been cooking a ham in the oven all afternoon as I’ve been writing this post, he’s made stuffing per my request, and cocktail hour is quickly approaching.

We’re having a lovely day here by ourselves in our little silver cocoon parked by the beach.

Happy Holidaze, All! And the happiest of New Years.

Home for 17 Hours

After a very hectic but successful first week of shows, James and I drove back to The Woods yesterday afternoon for our one day off. He’s got a dental appointment in Nevada City this morning and then we drive back to San Francisco for tonight’s show. (We’ve got nine shows this week to make up for having Thanksgiving off last week.)

I am always amazed at how QUIET it is at home. Only the sound of a barking dog, a mile down the hill on the main street, could be heard on the crisp, cold starry night.

The barn feels bare without the Airstream trailer in it. There’s no fully-functional kitchen or shower in the adjoining rooms. As a temporary measure, James has a garden hose attached from the well to the toilet in the barn bathroom, but the sink isn’t hooked up yet, nor is the one in the modular metal sink unit in what we call the Summer Kitchen.

We have a small refrigerator and freezer in the Summer Kitchen, and a toaster oven and a propane cooktop stove with two burners. So James “whipped up” frozen lasagna for dinner last night which was actually quite good.

We slept under a mound of blankets on the bed in the Music Room and I got up a few times to turn the small electric heater on and off throughout the night. It got down just below freezing outside, and in the upper 40s inside.

We also have a kerosene heater which warms up the room nicely. James made a pot of tea on the propane cooktop stove and I am sipping on it at my usual spot at the diningroom table.

It’s time to pack up and head down the hill, but before we do, I am posting a video of our trip to the beach and some shots of the Pacific Ocean. I could not upload the video from the RV park wi-fi, which is very capricious.

Perhaps I’ll bore you with the story of the wi-fi company, TengoInternet (which we “lovingly” call NO-TengoInternet!) in a future entry.

Our last day In The Woods (for a while)

Perhaps this recent flurry of blog posts — three days in a row is highly unusual for me, eh? — can be attributed to the fact that part of us is reluctant to leave The Woods for The Big City. Our appreciation for this place is always present, but it feels stronger and more poignant now on the eve of departure.

We had originally planned to leave today, but when James found out that my first rehearsal on Monday in San Francisco is not until 7 p.m., we decided to wait until tomorrow morning.

This has given James more time to attend to the Airstream trailer, inside and out. He secured everything that we had brought into it yesterday in “travel mode”, hitched the trailer to our trusty red Chevy truck and towed it out of the barn this afternoon.

He washed the barn dust off and it looks much better. Now it is parked in front of the barn, hooked back up with electricity and water, and I’m writing this blog post in it as I did yesterday.

Home is wherever we have our computers, we’ve concluded with a laugh.

Earlier today, on this morning’s walk, we took yet another route. James has been wonderfully resourceful with suggestions lately!

We went up to the point which joins the main dirt road into town, but turned left instead of right, which we had done yesterday.

This takes us on a slight incline towards the postmaster’s house, but we before we reached his driveway, we turned left again on a little logging road heading back towards our place.

I brought my camera along again, but didn’t see any photo-ops until we reached this logging path.

There are two very large stumps on each side of the road at the top, where in olden times a large, heavy chain had stretched between the trees as a barrier. Here’s the stump on the left:

And here is the one on the right, with James extending the chain:

The chain “au naturel”:

Another old stump further down the hill:

James speculated that this tree must have been over two hundred years old when it was cut; maybe older. We fantasized that it had sprouted from the ground before the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock. It was probably cut in the early mine-dredging days in the mid-1800s.

This logging road leads back to the intersection where we usually turn off to walk by our nearest neighbors’ house. To the left are two discarded Franklin stoves, grown rusty with time:

In the exact middle of the intersection is this section of dredging pipe:

And to the right of this pipe is an assemblage of other mining debris:

We walked to the left, going slightly downhill, where the path leads into our driveway. I captured the tail-end of the Fall colors on a couple of trees:

I snapped a quick shot of James and Ringo, who had reached the end of the driveway near our place. (Ringo can barely be seen to James’ left.)

Cat Rupert was there to greet us when we arrived, as he’s done when we’ve returned from our past three walks.

Since we’ve been spending most of our time in the Airstream these past couple of days, Rupert doesn’t quite know what to make of our absence. He’s been staying in the Music Room alone for much of the day, except when I’ve been there to practice horn. James and I have continued to sleep in the Music Room, and will spend our final night there this evening.

My next post will be from the beach in Pacifica!

P.S. I’ve been having trouble formatting photos and text in posts lately; I create space between them in “visual” mode but they do not SAVE that way in the actual post. Everything gets crunched together. Do any of you have any suggestions?

Fungus Amongus

On this morning’s walk, James suggested that we head in a different direction than usual.

So we turned right at the fork at the top of our driveway instead of left. This secondary path brings us to the main dirt road which goes downhill for a mile to town.

“Look at that!” James exclaimed as he pointed to a log at the side of the path. It was a multi-colored blob of fungus growing on the sawed end of a tree trunk.

The camera’s flash captured the richness of the colors in this closeup:

Further up the path, James called my attention to this hanging fungus and moss:

Breathing a little heavily at the top of the secondary path — great exercise! — we went up the main road past the gate and then sharply to the right down our neighbor’s driveway. (When I say “driveway”, I actually mean a dirt road.)

There was more of the same variety of fungus, but hanging more dramatically from the side of the path:

And just a bit farther downhill, more mushrooms! These are quite different than the ones I took shots of yesterday:

A side shot:

Nearing the neighbor’s compound, we passed two water tanks which had been used regularly years ago, when the neighbors had tapped into a spring — the same spring that our property had also utilized “back in the day”. Each neighbor has his own well now.

The first of these tanks reminds me of the one in Petticoat Junction (but a much smaller version):

The second tank has an interesting camo effect:

At this point, the path turns abruptly to the left, leading down to the neighbor’s group of buildings. I captured an affectionate moment between James and Ringo:

The neighbors have an interesting array of old artifacts from long-ago mining days:

Their property is almost entirely covered with trees, so the ground is blanketed with pine needles and the light is rather gloomy, and mosquitoes love hanging out there during the summer.

I am glad that a good deal of the land we inhabit is open meadow. It’s a different world, less than a half-mile away.

I write this post from our 1976 Airstream travel trailer, still parked in the barn. James has just finished this phase of his design project and it is fabulous as promised!

At this moment, we are in the process of loading the stuff we want to bring along for our six-week sojourn in the Bay area, and trying out our new “office space” for size. The space is very cozy and already feels like it’s always been this way.

We will leave either tomorrow or early Sunday morning. New adventures await!

Our Morning Walks

Now that we have a dog, we need to walk Ringo several times a day.

It is a good opportunity to be propelled outdoors and get out of our computer chairs for a change! I am thankful that dogs keep their owners somewhat active.

It’s funny, I’ve never considered myself to be a “dog person”, but I can’t imagine not having a dog now.

Our favorite walk is up our driveway to a fork in the dirt road which leads up to our nearest neighbor’s house, a quarter-mile away. We continue along a path carpeted with a thick blanket of pine needles, an evergreen arbor stretching over our heads. It is quiet and hushed like a cathedral; a perfect manifestation of the higher power of Mother Nature, or whatever you want to call it. I always feel reverent when I walk through this part of the Woods.

Another neighbor, Mike, often comes up from the Bay area for a few days at a time to do some controlled burning in the forest. He clears out tangled underbrush and trims the low branches from the pines, and monitors his little burn-piles. Now that we have seen some rain and the Woods are moist, it is safe to burn on designated days.

In fact, the US Forest Service is doing some controlled burning in the area this week.

We saw a small pile burning as we walked along the pine-needled path. Dog Ringo raised his nose and sniffed the pungent odor of smoke. Mike was nowhere to be seen, but we could see his car parked in front of his cabin near the river.

The house next to Mike is owned by Mr. H., who also lives in the Bay area, and comes up to the Woods even less frequently than the other neighbors. Here he was, burning a few piles of his own on his property this morning.

James has seen him on the rare occasions he comes up here, but I have not seen him in many years. It was nice to experience Mr. H’s positive energy again. I had forgotten what a warm, pleasant man he is.

Mr. H asked if we liked plum jam, and of course we said yes. His wife had made quite a few jars of it last summer and he’s been sharing it with friends. He gave us the last two jars, for which we thanked him profusely.

Mr. H’s wife had insisted that he bring their Scottie mix dog up with him, so “Scruffy” and Ringo got to visit. I am always amazed at how well Ringo behaves with other dogs; he never loses his cool even when the other animal gets excited.

We bid Mr. H goodbye and thank-you and continued on our walk. We passed Mike’s house, but didn’t see him — he’s probably out in the woods burning another pile. He so loves doing that!

As we approached our barn and outbuildings, we were treated with the brilliance of the liquid amber tree which is still showing its vivid Fall colors. There are more yellows than reds or purples this year, as it hasn’t been as cold as it was last Autumn.

We were on a point of the path which afforded a perfect view of the liquid amber surrounded by evergreens, with mountains and blue sky in the background. I went back to fetch my camera and captured the moment:

A couple of days ago, we took what we call the “river walk”, down through the meadow to L.’s cabin, then along the high banks of the Yuba River and back through the Woods to the north of us, accessing the meadow from the other side and then home. (This walk was documented in two videos here and here in a previous post last May.)

Just past the gully leading down to the ladder to the river, we came across the shredded remains of a raccoon. Bits and pieces of fur were spread out over the ground, the tail almost intact. A pile of entrails was not quite steaming, but obviously the kill had occurred recently. Later when I described the scene to L., she said that a bobcat had probably done it.

This is why we bring cat Rupert indoors at dusk!

Perhaps you are thankful that I did not have my camera with me.

However, further up the path was a good photo-op. Several large mushrooms sprang up in a group. I had never seen this kind of mushroom before, and reminded myself to take pictures of them before they disappeared.

So today after taking a shot of the liquid amber, I returned down this path where the mushrooms were still in evidence, and took the following pictures:

… the same two mushrooms taken from the top:

What an interesting size and shape this mushroom has:

Altogether a very nice display:

Near the top of the path leading down to the mushrooms was this clump of dead, browned flowers. I would rather enjoy this dried Autumn flower arrangement in the wild than on my diningroom table:

James and I are savoring our last two days in The Woods before going down to the Bay area for six weeks, where I will play the Phantom show in San Francisco. We are taking the Airstream down to an RV park in Pacifica, right on the beach. So for a while this blog could be called “Living on the Beach”.

James has been busy remodeling the middle space of the trailer, which will make it much more useful for our needs. He recently removed the sofa-bed and is putting in a counter and shelves for our computers and little piano keyboards. He has also upholstered the walls in (guess what?) several types of black&white fabric. I will take pictures when it is done — it’s going to be fabulous!

Ringo in Spokane

Although we walk Ringo every day, he hasn’t gotten his usual exercise fetching the ball or frisbee since we’ve been in Spokane, so he’s gained a little weight.

We can’t have that!

So we found a couple of cheap flying discs at a thrift store, which Ringo made short work of. Then we came across a red flying hoop in our favorite vacant lot, which has lasted for two sessions; it’s almost chewed through already.

I took videos of Ringo fetching the hoop yesterday with my digital still-camera, since I didn’t think to bring the regular video camera. The video feature on the still-camera is limited, as I suspect most of them are — one cannot zoom while the camera is taking movies. But you’ll get the overall impression of the fetching, along with the ever-present roar of the highway nearby.

Afterwards we stopped at a tiny park where James indulged himself on the swing-set. We’re thinking of having a large swing-set made for our place in The Woods! We had such fun swinging when we were kids — so why stop now just because we’re “adults”?

A couple of pit-bulls barked as James swung. They were situated in a cage in a nearby backyard, so I captured a moment on video of them as well. Every time we walk down this alley, the dogs raise up such a ruckus that they occasionally attack one another in their excitement.