shimmering day

beautiful day in point reyes station and at tomales point. we saw about 60 tule elk throughout the hike and drive. 

more from pierce point ranch 

marilyn made a dance video from the footage at pierce point ranch, in the milking barn and around. 

 

red

from sweden (sigtuna to be exact) 
holding on to that summer vacation feeling...

portraits

at home / away

a couple of weekends ago we drove up the sonoma and mendocino coast. what a dream california is. the sweep of nature. rough and rolling and shining. never ceases to bowl me over. 
and moving to see all the handwritten signs thanking the firefighters. 

East Coast adventures

to Philadelphia (hot and humid!), Bryn Mawr, Gladwyn, and NY

whole set

topanga canyon

canyon airstreams 
canyon flora

we traveled to the much storied topanga canyon this weekend. a friend of m's got hitched in a handfasting ceremony led by a shaman. the loves stood on the edge of the canyon and told each other poems they'd written and sang to each other. we all tied ribbons of different colors around their wrists. all connected. rather lovely.

m and i took a hike. the canyon's flowers are different than the bay's (obviously). somehow that was so refreshing. a new landscape—similar, yet different. blooming and slithering with lizards. hazy with dusk. and then just minutes to the beach, foggy in the morning. grey with bolts of pink shirts and yellow surfboards. sand underfoot and waves eternal. 

the photos to prove it. 

garden beginnings

we visited dog island farm in vallejo to get some heirloom tomato starts. the good folks there sell inexpensive heirloom starts that they've tested in our climate. ran into a neighbor there at dog island.

we hauled soil to our house with the help of a new awesome vallejoan friend's truck. same new friend is bringing us bees she'll keep in our yard (a story for another post).

we built four planter boxes with the help of another new vallejoan friend, with tools from two different neighbors. 

at mid city nursery where we went to get veggie starts, we met an enthusiastic fruit tree expert who is going to come to our house and assess our yard's fruit tree growing potential. 

it takes a village to start a garden! at least when we are doing it. :-)

we've met so many friendly people since moving here. it has taken me by surprise, this friendliness, this eagerness to connect, and it has made me happy and grateful to call vallejo home.





 

north beach date

m and i did some touristing in our former home city of SF: buildings, food, views, and the (heretofore not visited by either of us) enchanted gardens of telegraph hill.
more

north beach has always felt like a foreign place to me, a destination (even when i lived in SF). m and i remarked on how in the many years we lived there, no friends of ours ever lived in north beach. i did temp occasionally, in 1998 or 1999, as a teller at a bank in north beach. the chinese folks would line up for the chinese-speaking teller and the italians for the italian speaking teller. i guess i served the people who spoke english and/or who didn't mind my lack of other useful languages (there not being many swedes in north beach). on lunch breaks i went to the italian deli next door for seriously delicious sandwiches made by seriously italian men. i rode the increasingly packed bus through chinatown to downtown to go home, north of the panhandle. the whole thing was a fun intro to SF.

happy new year!

 
some photos from new year's day with marilyn—a sweet start to 2016.

breakfast extravaganza, nyd selfie, a stroll around lake merritt (where we passed this refugees are welcome here poster), and a visit to luka's taproom. fun to walk with and by the other folks walking the lake. walking/hiking is my favorite way to start a new year.

i'm still pondering my word for 2016. last year was new. i did pretty well actually on that one! year before was yes. yes is really a word for every year. but considering some others too—risk, open, adventure, dream (all in the yes theme), let go, acceptance, patience, community, cultivate, tend, attention, appreciation, play, to name a smattering.  

introducing sötnos honey!

my first honey harvest went great (i think—not really sure what i'm doing).

joan helped, and it was so much easier to handle the boxes/frames together (though i'm sorry to say, some bees still got smooshed). we only collected three and a half frames (yielding 14 small jars of honey), but we'll do another round soon, and that will be it for this first year of beekeeping! the bees will need the rest of the honey in the hive to get them through the winter. i hope the bees make it through. i only have one hive, and a lot of beekeepers lost about half their hives last winter.  

we used the crush and strain method (instead of the centrifugal extractor thing) since we are just doing small batches. (thanks for the tip, jean.) there was very little crushing though. more straining. i'm hoping we didn't add too much uncapped honey. apparently the honey can ferment if one includes too much uncapped honey. (honey is deemed done when it's been capped/sealed by the bees. it has then reached the right water content.)

the honey will be called sötnos honey. sötnos is a Swedish endearment that means sweet nose. label coming soon.

 

 

bits

pastel pinky 
espresso float (again) 
sea music festival at hyde st. pier

also went on a fun field trip to point reyes with lady friends last weekend when it was HOT. ate the requisite dunbar at bovine bakery, wandered around, went to limantour beach, and made it back to berkeley for an early dinner at saul's deli. unplanned, relaxing, and fun. 

fieldtrip: philo apple farm

every bend, corner, path, and field at philo apple farm is like a storybook. gorgeous. i'm sure it has required plenty of blood, sweat, tears, and thoughtfulness, resources, and family to make it what it is, but as a guest it feels like one is in an easy dream.

laurel and i attended a farm dinner there, with mostly anderson valley locals, and complete with live music. we played ping pong on a cracked and lovely colored table, while lefty the dog herded the ping pong table and us at breakneck speed, to the point of his being drenched and our having to stop out of concern for him. we enjoyed the incredible view of the farm from our room above the kitchen. the next day we ate biscuits and yogurt with philo apple farm jam. then we walked among the redwoods in hendy woods state park and checked out the very—sadly—piddly navarro river, which is dried up in parts due to the drought. and we brought apples and tomatoes and jam and apple vinegar home with us. all around yum.

old photos

been going through old photos lately. started looking more closely at the series the above photo comes from. i noticed that my cousin malin is wearing the green dress that later became a favorite of mine. just realized it must have been a malin hand-me-down. also noticed that i am cracking up in the above photo.

i love the swedish flag in the center of the desserts tray. i love the blue and green napkins, the flowery couch, the orange lamp, and the green thermos (in another photo). i love the total mishmash of decor.

in another one in the series, everyone is singing. must be a birthday. i love mormor's outfit (floor length floral skirt!), and my aunts' outfits. so 70s. and my cousin karin's jumpsuit. must have been hot for the uncles to be going around shirtless. this is how i remember swedish childhood summers—full of family, which was so fun and different from my usual only child life. 

 

flew down to so cal and back with no drugs/alcohol. normally i need something to handle flying without hyperventilating/panicking (even though i've flown many times in my life). occasionally, when there is no turbulence, and i am able to focus on the beautiful views, i do not totally freak out. i do love seeing my home from above. i love that the island of alameda can be so easily seen as a whole. it's graspable (both from above and on foot/bike). i see the green park street bridge, and from there can figure out what the other visible main streets are and where my house is. 

after flying over alameda, we passed over the golden gate, which looked like a bright toy bridge against the blue. and then water and more water and the blinding sun casting a gigantic gold circle on the water. and then some rows of curvy clouds lined up seemingly evenly spaced, like a letter written in cloud instead of ink. i got lost in the incredible beauty of the earth, instead of in thinking about how insane it is to be up so high. was still completely exhausted by managing the anxiety though.

at my parents' i sat in the sun on the front steps in the mornings. it was strange and still without any dogs around. first time ever in my life that my parents have been without dogs. no one running up to wipe their shaggy sandy schnauzer beards on me. 

saw two of my long time/lifelong friends and then back up to my insistent lap cat, PL. a short but sweet trip.

time

beauties from 2014, 2000-ish, and 1974 i think

i love these photos of my mom and her sisters (and mormor in bottom one, standing in the middle).

i like any photos where one sees a family (and styles) change (and in some ways stay the same) over time. and as an only child i'm fascinated by siblings in general. 

it's amusing to me that my mom is in blue in the top two photos and her sisters in neutrals (with ulrika wearing most black and kata wearing most light in both). mette is escaping comparison in the top two by not being present in the middle photo. she is on the far left in the bottom photo.

✽

your words settled into my stomach, a protective lining for growing hope. now, gritty sand.

collecting/believing words has always been problematic for me. as i grow older, i trust words less and less, but i still love them. the intention. their shapes and sounds. how they roll in the mouth, hang on the tongue. rarely accurate, but always striving. 

candy striped neon hot and burning the soles of my feet tar stink scarves trailing the wind flags fluttering eyelids too thin skin wrinkled by smiling squinting hand to block the sun how bright how bright a flame people want to be near and capture and stare


a little bit of a large chunk removed from a letter. not sure why i want to put it here when i did not keep it there. maybe because i'm more removed now.

phone full of flowers

alameda is barely an island; it's that close to oakland. it only became an island in 1902, when a canal was dredged between oakland and alameda. alameda is very short spanning north-south and longer east-west-wise. from east to west, several streets run through most of the island, including the bicycle boulevard, pacific ave. not very trafficked by cars, pacific has always been a favorite of mine to walk and bike. it leads to the farmers' market on saturdays. part-way down is the purple victorian on the corner, with the dogs that hang out in the bay window. it leads to my house from the ferry terminal on the days i make the extra time to take the ferry and bicycle from SF, instead of the bus. and, it led to her house.

it used to be that she lived on one end of pacific and i on the other. (it is probably still that way.) that strip of street between us became the site of many strong emotions for me. in the beginning, excitement, nerves, fear, desire. and i rode my bicycle letting go and trying to let go of my fears. open. singing to calm myself. later, on early mornings when i went home to feed pinky leon before scrambling to work, almost no one stirred on pacific, except sleepy dog walkers sometimes wishing good mornings. the air sparkly with dawn light. happy, happy. 

i rode down it when we first met in the middle, at a bar. nerve wracked, but also with a what the hell attitude, for once. at some point, i rode down it late at night, fast, fast, full of love, the street dark and empty until a small old car thumping music drove past, and a guy yelled "i love you!" at me. is it that obvious, even in the dark? i wondered. elation. another time in the late afternoon heading her way, three kids ran in front of my bicycle on purpose, giggling madly as i swerved this way and that and rang my bell to their delight. joy. and then the night i knew i should not be bicycling down pacific. the night i kept thinking i should turn around, that she didn't really want me to come over. sick to my stomach and a need to know why/what was going on. (i will try to forgive you, pacific avenue.) i have ridden down pacific slower and more meandering than i have ever ridden a bicycle, not wanting to go home. and i have ridden faster than i have ever ridden, energy overflowing. i have bicycled down it many times with a huge smile on my face.  

lately, there is only so far i will go on pacific. still, it is a good street. 


it seems with so few blog readers these days, i am back to writing things that will probably make me cringe...

lately

 

honey, it's back to long walks around alameda. 
back to photos of old cars, old trucks and houses probably.

been listening a lot lately to willie nelson's latest, band of brothers. willie is always a comfort. i thought i left you.

went to bodega bay where it was mostly grey interspersed with the birds memorabilia everywhere we turned. 

 

also lately, here's pinky lookin' good.

and a wildcraft studio school screen print finally framed

reading and enjoying zadie smith's NW. 

 

overwrought simile

 

maybe new love is a bit like travel. your patterns and ways all get disrupted. you wander down strange streets, surrendering to your feet and where they take you. you see/taste/hear things from a different perspective. the simplest activities become adventures. and scenes that you might consider troublesome if you lived in that country, you see with a curious eye and an open heart. or you might quickly look past/disregard troubling scenes; they are totally inconsequential in comparison to the lush and varied and surprising and amazing surroundings! the warmth of the local people. all that smiling. you might find yourself smiling all the time too. people seem to find you more approachable than they do at home, something about the way you carry yourself: the openness, the smiling, the happiness.

and then when you return home (even unexpectedly), although you loved that other place and how it made you feel, even if you had imagined possibly moving there for a very long time, you are a little relieved too. all that shifting inside and constant sensory overload was also somewhat stressful. you sleep much better at home. and your home looks different now too. you have a new appreciation for certain aspects of it. some forgiveness and some tenderness. but you would like to retain some of the openness/willingness. and when the relief wears off, you will have to try not to think too much about that place that won't become another home. definitely throw out the extra toothbrush, to start.

stars all full of night

this one (same god) was one of my favorites from yesterday's show under the big trees.

i've seen sean hayes since 1998, the year i moved to san francisco. many, many, many a time over the years, but yesterday was the first time in a good while, and much needed. such a calming relaxed graceful flow to that kid. groovy. full of music and poetry. and always different. and funny.

the first time i saw/heard him, he was playing in the bar at the fillmore. my girlfriend at the time and he were friends, and we went to hear him instead of whoever the band was that was playing the main stage that night. we sat right in front of sean at a table for two. a few other people were scattered about, not paying much attention. i remember it seeming like a show just for us. i was so caught off guard by the voice that came from the thin man sitting before us. vulnerable and raw and soulful and resonant and soothing. i was immediately completely drawn in. over the years, it's come to seem right that that voice comes out of him, though there is still surprise too every time. my breath catches, and then i settle in.