Are You Okay?

 I recently watched the Netflix documentary series "Harry and Meghan," which I really enjoyed. I understand that there has been a fair amount of controversy about their making that series. But I can appreciate how they would want to tell their own story, after the press has so relentlessly reported false or twisted stories. 

One thing that struck me is this: in one episode, Meghan talks about how, at an emotional low point, someone -- not a friend, but someone in a rather remote, professional role -- asks her, "Are you okay?" And Meghan reflects briefly on the power of that question, how meaningfully it created a connection, how for that moment it felt like someone saw her and cared about her, and how important it is for all of us to check in with the people around us in our lives to see if they are okay.

That flashed me back to a recent remarkable experience. 

A few weeks back, I went to a Social Security office to get various official documents sorted with my new address. Part of that process inevitably involves the official record history that my name went from Perin to my married name and then back to Perin. So I've learned that for any of these official sorts of things, I bring along a file with the relevant official documents -- birth certificate, voter registration card, court divorce order with authorization to resume use of maiden name, etc. (By the way, isn't it utterly ridiculous that you have to get an actual court order to resume using the name you were born with?)

So there I was, sitting in a cubicle with a plastic window between me and the Social Security guy as he flipped through the documents I'd handed over. "Oh," he said, "a divorce order." He looked up. "How long were you married?" "20 years," I replied. And he paused, then said, sincerely, "Are you okay? How are you doing?" 

It stopped me in my tracks. In all the times I've presented this information to get various official things done, no one has ever acknowledged that divorce is strange and painful. His taking a moment to acknowledge that and ask me if I was okay was such a powerful, thoughtful moment. 

I assured him that I was totally fine, and that it was long past, actually. 

But I thanked him for asking. And as he continued to sort through paper, I mentioned that no one had ever asked me that before, and how very important it felt to me that he asked.  

It has stayed in my mind, how unusual and good it felt to have someone I didn't know recognize that something significant had happened, and ask me if I was okay. And it's made me think about how we go through our days and weeks, and years, even, interacting with a lot of people but not really seeing them, not acknowledging things we might recognize are happening to them. We are polite. We don't want to be intrusive or inappropriate, and we're often all so busy. 

But gosh, if we have a clue that something difficult might be going on for someone, just asking "Are you okay?" might be a real gift. 

 

One of Those Weeks

  

 Well, friends, it has been one of THOSE weeks. You probably know the kind. Way, way, WAY too much work. A lot of things around the house that need to be done, but no time to do them. Clouds of dog hair wafting around the floor. Laundry needing to be done. Christmas stuff needing to be put away. And that cranky, tired feeling of being laden with too much stuff rolling around in my head.

So I will start with a highlight from yesterday. I had a list of errands to accomplish (recycling center, grocery store, etc.). But I'd not eaten before I dashed out, so I decided to treat myself to breakfast out, and I stopped at Whidbey Donuts. 

 

This little cafe and donut shop is maybe 5 miles from my house, behind the field where the weekly farmers' market takes place in spring through fall. It was raining yesterday, and it turned out to be the perfect spot to sit, relax for a bit, and enjoy a yummy breakfast.

I was taken with the donut art all over the restaurant, which I will have to inspect on future visits. 

And although I did not stop to take a photo, the breakfast was delicious. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and -- surprise - a grilled donut. A novelty experience, to be sure. They had cut a plain glazed donut in half, sort of hamburger bun style, and put it face down on the grill for a bit so the surface was crispy.

Google tells me that this is a THING. If you go look, you can find recipes and images of sandwiches and desserts featuring grilled donuts. Who knew.

 

Anyway, it was a nice morning break. I've been reading Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, so sitting, sipping my coffee, nibbling my grilled donut, and reading was a perfect pause. 

The novel, by the way, is quite enjoyable. The author has said it is loosely based on Fleetwood Mac, and is about the relationships between various band members as they become famous in the 1970's. It's told in an ongoing interview style that makes for interesting reading, as each character tells his point of view which is often quite different from the view of other characters. A movie is in the works, I hear.

One of my errands was a stop at a local appliance store to search for a replacement gas range. The one above (excuse the fingerprints and grime) is what came with the house and what we have been using since then. But on Thanksgiving, issues became apparent -- mainly, the vague smell of propane gas ALL the time in the kitchen. After various repair visits and gas line inspections, it was determined that the range had a leak in a part which was no longer available, so the range would have to be replaced. 

Along the way, I did get better acquainted with two neighbors who helped me pull the range out and shut off the gas line, which I greatly appreciated. I've also learned that the propane gas smell is from a substance called Mercaptan, a harmless chemical in and of itself which is added to odorless propane gas so any dangerous leak can be detected. I can not tell you how many times the gas company people have said the word Mercaptan to me over the last several weeks.

I will spare you the story of "how I lived without an oven or stovetop" from Thanksgiving to early January (which would include a deeply moving segue into the agony of not being able to bake the ritual Christmas cookies). Suffice it to say that I have become a lot more familiar with the benefits of my Instant Pot, and have used my crockpot, toaster oven, and microwave oven a whole lot. I can also report that in a pinch, Walker Shortbread will make a reasonable substitute when you are desperately craving the family traditional  holiday shortbread. 

I now have an excellent replacement range on order which is expected to be installed next week. Turns out that the tricky part was not choosing a gas range; it was finding one that would be available sometime before March. 

Oh, one more thing. See how that range up there has two ovens? I thought that might be a handy feature, and it turned out that the top part (broiler and shallow oven) worked fine for a lot of things. But if you're tall, like me, and pulling a casserole dish or roasting pan (say, with a big ol' turkey) out of the lower oven, then you are pretty much down on the floor ... with two dogs eager to investigate and thrilled to have delicious smelling food right at their snout level. So the new range will have one normal oven, with the typical storage drawer at ground level. I can hardly wait.

Meanwhile, in another break from work, last weekend I loaded another small quilt top onto the long arm. I have no idea when I made this. I vaguely recall that I had a small assortment of fabric that I'd bought because the prints were just too charming to pass up. Look at those pink clamshells! And the abstract seaweed print on white! And the little whale tail on navy blue! And starfish! Somewhere along the way I decided that I'd mix in some other things and cut them into equilateral triangles for a someday baby gift or donation quilt. I still love these fabrics and the unusual pink-navy-gold color combination. 

 So yesterday afternoon (instead of dealing with the laundry, dog hair, and Christmas decor) I started in with the quilting a bit. I like the quilting to emphasize the part of the quilt I really like -- and I realized with this, it was the triangles themselves. Plus I thought I needed to ease back into ruler quilting with something that is not too challenging. So, quilting straight lines to emphasize the triangles is now under way. 

If you've never quilted with a ruler, on the longarm you hold the ruler down with your left hand, and guide the machine with your right, keeping the ruler foot gliding along the edge of the ruler. I had forgotten how easy it is to just veer off away from the ruler, so what should be a straight line turns into a strange arc heading off for parts unknown. I've already had to do a bit of ripping. Ah well, it's what this practice is for. 

So, there you have it. The week ahead promises to be another crazy work week, but I now have the knowledge that I'll soon have a working stovetop and oven back in the kitchen. Plus Miss C is quite intrigued at hearing about grilled donuts, so I suspect there will be a return visit to Whidbey Donuts sometime soon.

Happy January to you all, friends!

 

Welcome to 2023!

Well, here we are in 2023! 

It feels like the last year was one long blur of activity. I guess it often feels that way, looking back at the past year, but this past year was truly an action-packed one for me. 2022 was a year of big transitions, of difficult goodbyes, of new adventures and of doors opening. 

The year started with a whole lot of preparation to leave my home of 20+ years in Healdsburg, California. It was a lovely home in a lovely town, but it was time to leave both. I have good memories, especially of Miss C as a little kid and all of the adventures we had there. But it was our married, family home -- and after the marriage ended, it felt a bit like I was living in a place that didn't fit anymore.   

 

So, there was a whole lot of fixing and freshening to get the house ready to sell.

When I pulled up this photo of the house with its newly-painted look, I spotted the 250 gallon water tote off to the right of the driveway. Like many of my neighbors around town, I'd gotten that so that we could take advantage of the city's free weekly delivery of recycled water during the drought months. Over the past few years, the city had severely restricted household water use and prohibited most garden watering. That recycled water allowed me to keep the trees and shrubs in the yard alive, even while everything else turned brown and died. Yikes. Six months in the rainy Pacific Northwest and I'd already forgotten about the recycled water. 

Inside, the house went from a home filled with color and much-loved personal decor to a beige, neutral "anyone could live here" staged look. Accomplishing that involved more painting (beige!), a lot of studying home decor blogs, and pulling out every wood, woven, brown, neutral thing I could find. My realtor was stunned when she saw the result, and apparently got inquiries about which professional stager she had used. And it did look rather inviting, if I do say so myself. Not like my house (again, BEIGE) but kind of peaceful.

All that preparation meant no sewing or quilting. This autumn leaf quilt was a gift for my sister and was the last quilt that came off of the longarm before it was dismantled to store and then move. (My realtor kept asking if "the loom" was out of the bedroom yet. It made me laugh every time.)

 

After much contemplation about how to protect the frame during pre-sale storage and moving, I decided that the solution was pool noodles. Brilliant, eh?  I ordered a box of them, and wrapped the rails with split noodles, batting and garbage bags. It worked beautifully. When the frame was reassembled just last month, every piece was in perfect condition. Not a single nick or scratch.  

 

 

2022 also had an unexpected interruption for surgery. In the midst of all of that prep work, I managed to fall and break my wrist. Ouch. (I tripped over a garden hose while I was in the process of clearing things away so my handyman wouldn't trip and hurt himself. Yes, really.) Luckily, that happened just after the realtor's photographer had already taken the listing photographs, so the house was staged and clean and ready, and all I had to do was not mess anything up. The wrist break, and eventual surgery to pin things back together, pretty much ensured that I wasn't going to do any messing up at all. I did a whole lot of TV watching and reading instead.

A wonderful benefit of that unexpected event was how many longtime friends came to my aid. They helped pack, and took car loads of stuff to Goodwill, delivered boxes of books to the library to donate, and helped make the parched backyard look decent with potted flowers. It was very humbling and lovely to have friends step up -- and it was really, really helpful. I truly don't know what I would have done without them.   

Did I mention that 2022 also brought another feline member to our family? This is Kaya. Admittedly, it was not the best time to adopt a new pet, what with the chaos of packing and house-showing and an upcoming move out of state. But when "your" pet shows up, you know. And Caroline just knew. So we figured it out, and our other critters (cat Maybel and relentlessly friendly golden retrievers Rosie and Starlie) accepted her gracefully into the family. 

Somewhere in all of that activity, I worked with a Whidbey Island realtor and found a house that looked ideal for me, Miss C, and our critter crew. After home tours and negotiations and inspections, not to mention a whole lot of paperwork, it was mine.  

 

 So, it was time to say goodbye to Healdsburg, with some sadness and a whole lot of relief, actually. It was a good family community when we got there, but it has changed a lot and become so touristy and fancy and money-obsessed over the last 20 years. It didn't feel like a place I wanted to be any more.

Speaking of friends, when it came time to make the trek from  northern California to Whidbey Island, Washington, two more dear friends volunteered to help with the adventure. This is us back in our U.C. Irvine college days, circa 1979 or so. We were so young! Moe flew up from Anaheim and helped me pack, and Beth stopped on her way back from her travels to help us drive up to Washington.

  

Moe and I (and the dogs) rode together, singing along to a 1970's music station (our college decade) for most of the trip, and Caroline and the cats kept Beth company. Here we are, a mere 40 years later, posing in front of my new house.

  

So the early summer found me unpacking, and exploring a bit, and trying to figure out where to put things and how to turn a house full of boxes into a functional home.  

This summer, my sister, dad and I said a final goodbye to my mom after a rapid health decline. I was glad to be there during the week before she died, and she knew she was home and that we were all there with her. It was, all things considered, as good as it could have been. I know my mom and my brother are together, surrounded by the wonderful family dogs we had over the years, and probably playing cards with grandparents and great aunts and uncles. 

Miss C and I spent our first autumn on Whidbey Island, and I realized with a shock that I'd not actually enjoyed autumn in quite a few years. Autumn in Sonoma County means drought and fire season, with  evacuation readiness a constant necessity. It was a huge improvement to our quality of life to leave that behind. And as some of you have read here on this blog, I have had a great time exploring the local farmers' market and autumn offerings.

 In November, we survived a 3+ day power outage after a massive windstorm brought down tree limbs and power lines.  I'd had a generator purchase in the works, but now it's installed and ready to click on at the next power outage. I think I've just guaranteed that South Whidbey won't have an outage for a while. 

I also joined the local quilt guild, and felt like I'd found my tribe! I am looking forward to making new friends. Quilters tend to be very nice people.

December brought Bernina technicians to my house to get my longarm up and running again, so I've been having a great time reacquainting myself. I've finished two quilts since then, nothing fancy but simple quilts that were fun to get done, and I just loaded up another today. 

First Whidbey Christmas was great fun, and even provided a white almost-Christmas snow storm. It made for several magical (if very icy) days. Oh, how I love the snow.

 

 

Beth (see college friend, above) joined us for Christmas with her new young lab Finn, so there was much dog romping and laughing and a whole lot of nibbling on holiday food.  

 

2023 promises to be a quieter year, but with continued exploring of our new home. 

I wish you comfort, creativity, and joy in the coming year!