Sarah Wynde's Blog, page 34
April 1, 2019
Adventure buddies
I told S recently that thinking of her as my former co-worker felt wrong, like it was a story missing many pieces. Once upon a time, we had cubicles down the row from one another, but that doesn’t really explain how we got here, 25+ years later. Even back then, though, we were travel buddies. When our company sent us to Hawaii, we visited the rain forest and went snorkeling at a black sand beach. When our company sent us to Lake Tahoe, we went horseback riding. When our boss needed to find out some information that she couldn’t get any other way (pre-internet!), we rented a car and drove to Death Valley. And when I knew I was going to be staying in Arcata for a while, of course I went looking for an adventure for us. I sent her a link to a full day of river kayaking via the HSU Center Activities and then said, “Maybe that’s too much?”
I think S is constitutionally incapable of saying no to an adventure. She said yes, we registered, and on Wednesday, the day after we got back from camping, we went to the first part of the class: learning how to get out of a kayak after you’ve turned it over. That class was held in the Arcata swimming pool and was a nice intro to the idea that maybe this was going to be a scarier adventure than I’d envisioned. If you’ve read my blog regularly for a few years, you know that I like kayaking, but that I am a cautious kayaker (as, in fact, I am cautious about everything.) Kayaking on the St. Johns, the slowest river in the US, is about my speed.
This was not that kind of kayaking. This was the kind of kayaking where you wear a wet suit and a helmet and a PFD (personal flotation device) and the kayak has a sleeve over the seat opening to prevent your boat from filling with water as you splash your way down a fast-flowing river. This was the kind of kayaking where you find your way into a safe eddy and pull over to consider the risks of the next stretch of water. This was the kind of kayaking where the instructors shout “paddle harder, paddle harder, paddle, paddle,” to keep you from running smack into hazards in the water.
It was exceedingly fun.
Also, as Suzanne and I agreed at dinner, way outside our comfort zones. But next time it will be less outside our comfort zones. I actually already called this morning to register us for another class in two weeks, but they were closed to celebrate Caesar Chavez Day, another reminder that I’m not in Florida anymore.
Meanwhile, my plans for this week include writing lots of words. April is CampNaNoWriMo, which I didn’t know until I saw that the Humboldt Writer’s Group had set up a camp. I never made it back to another of their meetings, largely because they happen on Sunday afternoons, which is S’s only guaranteed day off and so typically a busy day. But I am going to join their camp and work on turning April into a month like last November was. I’d express my doubts, but I’m not even going there: it’s going to happen. Time to get to it!
Edited to add: After I hit Publish, I was still thinking about kayaking. While it was exceedingly fun, it was also a certain amount of scary and a fair amount of discomfort and a lot of uncertainty. The plusses outweighed the minuses, but I don’t want to rewrite my history to exclude the hard stuff or make it seem easier than it was. Worth doing, going to do again, but the moment halfway through when I thought, “I am so ready to be done with this,” was just as real as the moment when I got through some rough water and thought, “YES! Made it!” and gave an exultant grin.
March 27, 2019
Jefferson State Forest and Humboldt Redwoods State Park
On Sunday, S and I took off on our first mini-road trip. We drove south to Fort Bragg to visit a beach of sea glass. Apparently, at some point in time, Fort Bragg threw their trash in the ocean and as a result, they have a beach that has lots and lots of smoothed glass. (I’d look up the exact details, but in the interest of actually writing a book someday, I’ve locked myself out of the internet for the working hours of the day, so if you’re interested in the specifics, I leave the googling to you. Glass Beach, Fort Bragg, I’m sure you’ll find it.)
[image error]Happy, happy, happy Zelda, running free at the beach. Basically, her favorite thing ever.
[image error]The composition of the “sand” she’s running on.
Our plan included a late lunch at a restaurant we’d read about and then camping at Jefferson State Forest, but after a relatively quick visit to the beach at high tide, I got nervous about our timing. We’d gotten off to a late start and I didn’t want to wind up reaching the campground after dark, only to find it full. It was a ridiculous worry, because it was a Sunday night in the middle of March, and the campground was not going to be full. Still, I suggested we skip the restaurant until the next day and head to the campground.
The campground was not full.
It was closed.
But there weren’t any signs saying “no overnight parking,” so… we camped there anyway. I stayed in the day use parking lot and S and her two dogs trekked a short distance up the road to a campsite where she set up her tent for the night.
I’d left my phone in the van, but as we got settled, I wandered around thinking about all the great pictures I’d take on Monday morning. The majestic redwoods, the lush ferns, the incredible green of the spring grass, the light through the branches. Ha. In the night, it started to rain. And it rained, and it rained, and it rained. I lived in California for over ten years — admittedly, farther south — and I think it’s rained more in my month in northern CA than it did in the entire decade that I lived in the state. I, of course, didn’t mind the rain. I was snug in Serenity, cuddled up with my dog. But S got to discover that her tent has started to leak. Ah, the delights of camping.
On Monday morning, we went back to the glass beach, at low tide, and had a very fun, only mildly damp, ramble. My favorite moment of the entire trip was when Z ran away on the beach. Riley, the youngest of the dogs, had headed off on an ambitious excursion and S and Buddy were following him. They’d crossed a fast-flowing stream of water into the ocean onto a rocky area and I wouldn’t let Z go that way. I wasn’t sure how strong the current would be and I didn’t want her to get swept away. So she turned around and ran back the way we came, up a steep slope, trying to catch up with Riley that way. I chased after her, but she was fast! At the top of the hill, she gave me such a great doggie smile. Good rainy beach day with a happy dog is a delight.
After the beach, we went to the restaurant, a place called Mayan Fusion. It was incredibly good. I had kebabs with chimichurri and a Mayan salad with jicama and pumpkin seeds and grapefruit, followed by fish tacos (which also became my dinner) and S had sweet corn and a pork dish (which also became her dinner). It was so delicious that S is already planning our next trip to Fort Bragg (a three hour drive away) to eat there again.
We wandered around Fort Bragg a little, not exactly being good tourists but glancing at the train depot and the last building from the old Fort Bragg, and then headed north. I wanted to stay at Humboldt Redwoods State Park for the night. After two and a half years of traveling, I’ve finally decided that my travel goal is to go to every state park on this list of the best state parks. I’d been thinking I’d try to camp at a state park in every state, but the so-called “best” state parks of every state will be even more fun. And conveniently, Humboldt was nicely close.
[image error]The only way to get a real picture of the redwoods is to use the panorama setting.
We got a nice little campsite right next to a redwood so huge you could walk inside it, built a fire, enjoyed the fresh air, and ate our leftovers for dinner. And when it started to get dark, S tried out #vanlife and slept in the other twin bed. She’s not giving up her tent anytime soon, but she is now at least a little bit of a convert to the convenience of a real roof.
March 21, 2019
Tosha Yoga
Tosha Yoga, the yoga place that S and I have been trying (on their introductory 5 classes for $25 plan), is in a building that looks like an old factory. The downstairs is an arts center. If you look closely at the above photo, you’ll see some stairs on the right that lead to the roof. The yoga studio is up there.
[image error]Tosha Yoga from the inside
It is, without a doubt, the prettiest yoga studio I’ve ever visited. It’s a gorgeous space.
[image error]The tea tray
[image error]The plant corner
And it is very yoga. Lots of focus on breathing, reminders to be mindful, and plenty of times where my thoughts can best be summarized as, “Don’t be ridiculous, my body is not doing that.”
But I think I said in my first mention of yoga in Arcata that it would be a long time before I tried side plank again? That was apparently a lie. In the very next class I flowed naturally into a side plank, because that was where the instructions took me, and I didn’t let my brain tell my body that it was impossible. My brain is, however, very grumbly about how sore I am. A couple years without yoga and a year without Bartleby and I have apparently lost all my upper body strength. And I don’t even want to think about the core exercises. Ugh. My stomach reminds me every time I try to sit up.
But the space is great and the instructors are warm and encouraging and, as always, the sense of peace and presence at the end of a class is immensely rewarding. And the good news for me is that the first class was enough to convert S from a yoga skeptic to an enthusiast, so we’ve been going to classes together. Having company always helps motivate me.
Of course, that also means we get to decide to blow off a class together. We had every intention of going to a class on Tuesday night — I even made dinner early, so that we’d have plenty of time to digest before trying to exercise. But Tuesday was the end of S’s weekend, and we’d gotten a lot done over the weekend, including tackling the storage shed and much gardening.* I was three quarters of the way through my quinoa bowl** when I said, “I’m really tired.”
S said, “Do you want to skip yoga?”
I had a brief moment of remembering all the reasons that yoga is good for me, even when I don’t want to go, and then I said, “Yes. Yes, I want to skip yoga. And instead, I want to watch Russian Doll on Netflix and drink mint tea. And in an hour or so, I want to eat ice cream and those fresh raspberries we just got.”
[image error]
So we did. And it was really fun. The only thing better than going to yoga is not going with intention.
*I did not do any gardening and, in fact, my storage shed tackling was mostly limited to watching S work and occasionally carrying a load of stuff to a different storage spot or the street. So my right to be tired was reasonably questionable. But it’s arduous to watch someone else work!
**S was also a scoffer at quinoa bowls. The first time I made the suggestion, she didn’t quite roll her eyes at me, but she came close. The first time I offered her some, she passed. But I have completely sold her on their deliciousness now, the health virtues being just a side benefit.
March 18, 2019
A plan fulfilled
“Why drive two hours to go to a campground by the beach when we could drive ten minutes to the beach, then come home and cook something scrumptious in the kitchen?”
[image error]Trinidad Harbor.
[image error]The scrumptious dinner. Roasted brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes with rosemary, steak (cooked sous vide), and mixed greens with pea pods and a little grated cheese.
Yesterday was the first test of all three dogs in the van. We loaded them up and took them north on 101 to a rest stop. An exciting adventure! (Not really.) But the rest stop had an RV dump station, so I dumped the tanks while S and the dogs wandered in the redwoods. It was a pretty nice rest stop in general, and dogs — or at least my dog — loves a good rest stop. So many smells! And the dogs did okay. Z shared the dog bed between the seats with Riley without complaint, and Buddy took the bed in the back almost the moment he entered the van. Riley was the only one who seemed at all anxious about the whole thing, but even he relaxed after a while. He can rest his head on my leg while I drive, though, so I can rub his ears while I drive — very convenient.
On the way back to Arcata, we stopped in Trinidad. We got coffee at a cafe and drank it on their patio, dogs in attendance, while an early morning (-ish, it was around 10) musician set up and started to play. The fog began to burn off and the sun came out. It felt like spring and smelled like ocean and redwood forest and plants.
When I woke up this morning, I asked Alexa for a weather report. She used the phrase, “lots of sun.” I like that phrase so much! In Florida, it’s hard not to start taking the sun for granted. Arcata is teaching me appreciation.
March 14, 2019
A Cat Conversation in Five Parts
I don’t actually speak cat, but the dialogue in this scene was pretty unmistakable.
The setting: the front porch, on a day of sun after many days of rain.
The antagonist: me, spotting the cats and saying, “Wow, you guys look so pretty, I’m going to have to take a picture and send it to your mom.”
Our protagonists: Gina, the orange cat, terrorizer of Zelda and power-hungry battler for kitchen authority, and Vivi, the tortoiseshell cat, queen of the entire property and ruler of all she surveys.
[image error]Gina: The porch is cozy today.
Vivi: Indeed. Ah, an admirer. Someone to appreciate my beauty. How pleasant.
[image error] Gina: ACK! It’s looking at me!!!
[image error]Gina: The horror!
[image error]Vivi: OMG. It’s admiring our beauty, you coward. I can’t even…
[image error]Vivi: You are an embarrassment to cats everywhere.
Gina: I’m so ashamed.
It’s fun watching the animal dynamics in a house/environment of many creatures. There are two dogs, two indoor cats (these two), two permanent outdoor cats, and a revolving collection of visitors. Plus lots of chickens. They’ve all been trying to figure out Zelda’s place, as has Zelda herself, but Honored Guest is difficult to translate into dog/cat. So far, Zelda seems to have decided she’d rather not — whenever I bring her into the house, she hovers by the door, hoping to convince me to leave quickly, and/or hides in the bathroom.
But the dogs seem to be slowly deciding that Zelda is a friend, so I hope that helps. Last night there was some nose-touching with tail-wagging when Z came into the house. And the cats run the range from Gina, who is pretty clearly jealous and determined not to let any of her privileges be usurped; Vivi, who has no need to play power games with any species so beneath her; Moe, who runs if we come anywhere near; and Tank/Zen Kitty, who darts away if startled and glares if not startled. We give all of them a pretty wide berth, but especially Tank who outweighs Z and would absolutely win any confrontation. Not that there would be a confrontation. Z could star in one of the internet videos of dogs incapable of taking back her bed from a cat if the cats got anywhere near her bed, because she wants absolutely nothing to do with them. That’s Gina’s fault, I’m pretty sure. Gina is sneaky about trying to swipe at Z, but Z doesn’t have any problem reading cat body language. She knows what Gina thinks of her.
I’m fairly sure that I’ve now hit the longest I’ve stayed in one place in the van, during my two-plus years of living in it. Not the longest I’ve stayed in a given place, which is probably my brother’s house or Sanford, both with multiple repeat visits. And even Oscar Scherer State Park in Sarasota might still have more total days. But my longest time of staying still without some campground escape or move to another vacation.
I am loving it, actually. I’ve thought before that when not moving, the disadvantages of living in a van so outweigh the advantages that it’s simply not worth it. Without the travel, it’s just life in a metal box. But in Arcata, it’s life in a metal box with yoga down the street (twice last week), a farmer’s market on Saturdays, a nearby beach, meditation classes, gardening and chickens, a new writer friend to meet for coffee, used bookstores, trips to CostCo, a grocery store in easy walking distance with really good gluten-free bread… And this week some sunshine, too!
So no Oregon adventures yet, but as I said to Suzanne, why drive two hours to go to a campground by the beach when we could drive ten minutes to the beach, then come home and cook something scrumptious in the kitchen? Plus, we can then use the money that we would have spent on a campground to rent kayaks and/or take kayaking lessons. Or maybe sailing lessons. Or maybe both! There’s a place 15 minutes away that rents equipment and offers lessons so instead of driving to Oregon this weekend, we’re going to go investigate. They’re doing an all-day river adventure at the end of the month, which I’d like to sign up for, if I can bring myself to leave Z for that long.
Meanwhile, S is at work, and I should be working on Fen, not considering my future fun adventures. Back to the real words!
March 11, 2019
Mixed mood Monday
I am sad to be living in a van today, because my system is violently rejecting yesterday’s delicious pork spareribs. But glad to be alone in my van, because it would be even more unpleasant if I was sharing my space with anyone besides Z.
I was glad to be in Arcata yesterday, though. We had a beautiful time at the beach. Zelda took off and ran like a puppy, so happy to be free. She met some other dogs and sniffed them nicely, then moved on, and ran some more. Lots of good smells, lots of room to run, lots of joy.
[image error]She’s the little white dot, chasing S and J and their dogs.
March 8, 2019
Leftover soup
One of my standard strategies for using leftovers is to toss them into some chicken broth and call it soup. This is a fine strategy and results in some pretty decent soup, usually. But yesterday’s soup… well, I was in the stirring and tasting and making thoughtful “hmmm,”s stage, when S’s stepson said, “What do you think? Does it need something?”
I replied, “This soup is kickass. I’m pretty sure it’s perfect as is.” After eating a bowl and serving it to other people, my conclusion remains solid. We discussed over the soup what it might have wanted — a squeeze of lemon? A swirl of Greek yogurt? A sprinkle of herbs or green onion? And the group consensus was that it needed nothing and it was time for another bowl.
So, for my own future reference, perfect leftover soup for a cold day (mildly spicy, thick and solid):
In a little butter, sauté an onion in the bottom of the instapot until it is golden brown. Then, because you’re tired of standing around the kitchen, add a tsp or so of Ras El Hanout, even though it’s too early. Mix it in with the onion impatiently, instead of letting it bloom,* and wait another minute. Drain and rinse two cans of chickpeas, and add them, then cover them with chicken broth. The quantity of chicken broth should be enough to cover the chick peas, but not much more than that. Close the instapot and turn on the Soup setting. When it beeps (or sometime later), open it and use an immersion blender to lightly blend the soup until it’s creamy but still chunky. Some of the onion and chickpeas get blended but not all of them.
Then add leftovers. In this case, the leftovers were a chopped-up chicken breast and some roasted carrots and sweet potatoes, so perhaps they were the perfect additions to the chickpea-onion-Ras El Hanout base, but some rice, some pasta, some sausage, some greens would all have been good, too. Let the soup simmer on the Keep Warm setting of the instapot while you wait impatiently for your dinner companions to get home from work. Eat. Say yum!
*The link takes you to an earlier soup recipe where I explain blooming spices in more detail.
March 7, 2019
Glorious sunshine
My van is parked in S’s driveway, which means my view is basically of her street and sidewalk. Most of the days that I’ve been here, I’ve had a very good view of a great deal of rain. Today, however, it is gloriously sunny. Still chilly — there was frost on the ground this morning — but blue skies and sunshine. Everyone is appreciative, including the cat and all the many passersby. While I’m writing in the van, I’m an invisible audience to their interactions. It’s pretty entertaining, because wow, people are chatty with animals. A third of the population wandering by admires the cats and another third says hello to the dogs. It’s really quite charming.
Yesterday, I went to a meditation class, where the phrase that struck me, in the midst of the usual “follow your breath” and so on, was “open-hearted curiosity.” I don’t remember the context, but when I got home, I wrote it on my white board. I want to be approaching Fen with open-hearted curiosity. I want to see where the story takes me/her. So far that has not transformed into words flowing, however. I also downloaded an app to keep me off the internet, so that I would be forced to stare at my document instead of running away to read news stories and Facebook posts. My hour of internet-blocking netted me 73 words today; not a success, but I’m going to keep trying.
Also, I finally went to yoga! I am lamentably out of shape. That’s not a surprise, actually — it’s been a long time since I managed any more exercise than a short walk with the dog. But there’s not going to be any side planks in my near future. Still, yoga’s like writing — the more I do, the easier it becomes. And I know that if I go regularly (at least for the couple of months that I’m going to be in Arcata), I’ll get better. Plus, it felt great, even though I was dropping into child’s pose every other minute. I still got to have the lovely ending meditative rest. And I would look up the actual spelling of the lovely ending meditative rest, but I’ve blocked the whole rest of the internet to force myself to work. So maybe later. And meanwhile, I should get back to the working part of the day.
But, per request, a snippet of Fen:
First things first. Fen needed to call a glider. She scanned the sky, searching for a moving shadow. She didn’t see one, but she waved anyway, arm moving wide across her body, a gesture as big as she could make it.
Then she stopped herself, feeling stupid. She’d just made herself invisible. How the hell was the glider going to spot her?
“Elfie, can you summon a glider?” she subvocalized.
There was a pause. Then Elfie responded, “A data access pattern should not summon a glider. It is not within the parameters of my function.”
“Uh-huh,” Fen said, voice dry. “We’re past that now. Answering my questions is your function, right? So I’m asking a question. Can you summon a glider?”
“I am capable of such a thing, yes.”
“Will you?”
There was a longer pause. Fen waited, beginning to muster her mental arguments. Gaelith had created Elfie to help Fen, Elfie was a non-traditional data access pattern for a reason, if Gaelith had intended Elfie to limit herself to merely providing information, surely she would have used a traditional design… but she didn’t need them.
“Yes,” Elfie said.
Fen let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
No guarantees that will make it in the final book, of course. And it’s quite random, it’s just what I was working on today, so also unedited, etc. But I will stop with the excuses, it’s a snippet!
March 4, 2019
Warm huckleberry muffins
Last night, I was cozy in the van, snuggled up under the covers, when S texted me, “Warm muffins and ice cream…?”
Um, that would be a yes.
I slipped on my sandals and maybe grabbed a hoodie and hurried into the house where I ate a gluten-free huckleberry muffin fresh out of the oven with some Haagen Daz vanilla bean ice cream. Yum, yum, and more yum. I am not going to start counting calories any day soon, but I’m definitely growing wary of the dessert potential of Arcata. Well, wary and appreciative, simultaneously. These were homemade muffins, but the local farmer’s market has a gluten-free baked goods stall, and the closest grocery store — two blocks away, so a quick walk — always has gluten-free options. And not the usual run of frozen Udi’s products, which are easy to avoid because I don’t like them.
Over our warm muffins and ice cream, S & I talked about plans. One of the reasons I’m ostensibly here is to help with the post-bereavement cleaning out and organizing. It’s a big job. But I think the more important reason I’m here, at least for this moment, is to be an escape companion. S wants to go places. She’s working full-time, so we’re mostly talking about quick adventures up in Oregon — Ashland, Medford, Gold Beach. I’m hoping the weather becomes reasonable, because traveling with three dogs is sufficient challenge for me without them being three wet, muddy dogs. But I’m already plotting out what should move from the van into the house for maximum space optimization for group travel, and it’s going to be fun to see more of Oregon.
Meanwhile, writing proceeds mediocrely. I am falling farther and farther behind my word count goals, not helped by deleting everything I struggled with last week. But I think the struggle was necessary to clarify some of my ideas about character and direction, so I’m trying not to regret that too much. And I do feel like I’ve resolved some problems, so maybe I can get back to the entertaining portion of the writing agenda.
Yesterday, I went to a meeting of the Humboldt County Writer’s Group, hoping to find some local writing buddies. A fun group, but I felt very old, not just in years, although those, too. But there was one other newcomer there, who I promptly invited out for coffee. She’s currently planning an intensive novel-writing April, so maybe we can join forces for some real-life writing sprints. Until then, I should get back to persevering on my own. Fingers crossed for a better word week this week!
[image error]My scenic shots are tending to be very gray. The writing group promised it would stop raining someday soon, though!
March 1, 2019
Best of February 2019
On February 1, I left Florida. A Cracker Barrel parking lot, a National Forest, a Walmart parking lot, a Texas State Park, a friend’s driveway, another Walmart, a Bureau of Land Management site, an independent campground, another friend’s street, a California State Park, an Army Corps of Engineers campground, and finally another friend’s driveway later… it was a long month. Twelve spots, most of them for a night or two, but the last one for over ten days now.
[image error]Yesterday’s sunrise! The rain started again, but it’s been on and off yesterday and today, which is much more tolerable.
So what was the best? The first thing that came to mind when I started considering this post was the art project Kyla and I did together. Toddler B was excellent company, which was part of it, but there was also something so satisfying about creating something beautiful and concrete. I’m not a craft-y person at all, but I love having my photographs hanging in the van.
The morning I spent in San Francisco was also terrific. It was a combination of nostalgia for a place that still felt so familiar but a simultaneous reminder of how big and wondrous and exciting the world is. The universe felt rich with possibilities.
And then the night sky at Palo Duro Canyon State Park was truly amazing. I don’t have good photos — certainly not of the night sky, which is way beyond my ability level, but even my daytime photos didn’t turn out well. But this one shows something of the sheer sense of spaciousness.
[image error]It felt like there was a lot of room to breathe at Palo Duro.
Lots of other good stuff in the month, too — Vietnamese food with Carol, pumpkin soup with S, a fantastic Finnish hot tub experience this week, roller-skating, even having fun with laundry. Not to mention that yesterday I got to play with puppies! The next door neighbor runs a rescue group and one of the puppies temporarily visiting her managed to escape and make her way under the van. I got rather muddy in the process of getting her out, but then got to thoroughly snuggle a puppy for my efforts — totally worth it.
But I want to acknowledge the sad, too. My cousin unexpectedly passed away this week and I’ve been grieving much more than I would have anticipated, given our lack of contact. He had a difficult life, and I hadn’t seen him in years, but his mom is one of my very favorite relatives — one of my very favorite people, really — and so his loss feels closer. And because he was part of my childhood, it brings back lots of memories of other people who I miss. Good memories, though. Still, one of the things that I’m working on right now has much in it about the nature of time (theoretical underpinnings that the reader probably won’t ever see, but that I’m thinking about) — and it’s annoying that time is so damn linear. But I’m glad that someday I will be able to look back on February 2019 and be reminded of both the good and the bad.
