OK. The title is dumb. It just refers to the annual Home and Garden Show held at the Nevada County Fairgrounds (in Grass Valley) sponsored by the Union (our local paper). It's free. And the exhibitors are local folks. 
I'd say that, as a region, we have a higher-than-average degree of earth-friendly focus. Having to cope with the toxic legacy of the Gold Rush can predispose people to such a mind-set. There are still streams, tracts of soil and reservoirs that need significant detox treatment after all this time. So the booths/exhibits feature mostly clean and environmentally-sustainable technologies. Up our alley. Of course, now I have another pile of flyers/cards/brochures to add to the bunch I picked up last year, much of which I never processed very well. Someone needs to come up with a better way...
Anyhoo, this event, last year, was the first local event we attended. That's me in the freezing rain, munching my Lazy Dog ice cream bar last April. The second photo is of Tom, last Saturday, trying to eat his Lazy Dog before it melted in the heat. 
The other photos are dogwood shots. Seriously, they're amazing. This one is at the fairgrounds, but they're everywhere. In pink, too. And the little one I planted last fall has survived the winter and proudly popped out two blossoms.
That's all. No big deal. Tomorrow, though. Ha! Just you wait!
It was a shiny little jewel of a day. I met my good friend, Clay Phillips, at the SAC airport, in the morning, and, besides a pesky little interview/exam that he had to take in the middle of the day, we had the whole day to hang out in the Capital, or even the Capitol, if we wanted (what's the deal with those two words, anyway?).
Clay works for the State Parks System. He's the King of Border Field State Park and the Tijuana River National Estuarine Research Reserve (popularly known, of course, as the BFSP/TRNERR). He should be King of the whole CA Parks system. Anyway, he has to take certain certification exams every so often, so he came up to Sacto for that reason. At least that was the excuse. I think he just wanted to hang out with me, for awhile. This picture doesn't begin to reveal the wack-o that lurks within.
So, we went to Capitol Park and gawked at the amazing trees and endless war memorials. We love trees and chatted about them all day. Sacramento is the City of Trees, in case you've been living in a cave and didn't know. Clay says it has more trees per capita than any other city in the world except Paris. I believe him.
When I had to find a bathroom, I just traipsed on in past Arnold's Office to find it. Well, after the full-on airport security process. Arnold can't be too careful, these days. His pronunciation of Cal-ee-for-nee-ya gripes certain people.
Clay sprung for lunch at Jack's, a cool little eatery near the Capitol. Clay's not afraid to get the salad entree. While he was in for the interview, I took my self on a tour of Sacramento. Beautiful neighborhoods, especially the Fabulous Forties--stately houses, stately trees in the stately capital. But, I discovered many other gorgeous neighborhoods, as well. And a sweet art supply store. When Clay was done with those exam guys, we toured some more to find a couple of his haunts from days of yore. He's lived there, you see. And, naturally, we happened upon some ice cream in the process.
Along the way, we could catch up with each other's lives and muse about backpacking in the summer. He's the Supreme Commander of our intrepid little trekking group.
But, I had to give him back at the end of the day. I wish he had exams more often. It was a great day. I've often thought it would be cool if we had a mutual friend named Loam. Then we could have so much fun with soil jokes. So, if you know someone...
Here's a picture taken just as Tom and I were leaving after a fun evening eating Swedish pancakes with the fun people you see, here. There's Megan, Jason and Rachel in the cozy mountain retreat that Rachel and Megan are renting for awhile in lovely Truckee.
Jason is one of Rachel's best friends (and one of our faves) from Boston who's visiting for a week. It was so great to see him, again! He's intelligent, charming, funny, and knows more about zebra fish than the average person, though he's quite the handful as a guest, having given himself a concussion on the ski slopes on their first day out. I think he looks almost normal, again, though, don't you? We let him take the helmet and pillow suit off for the picture.
They developed a craving for Swedish pancakes and invited the Olde Swedish Pancake Maker (yours truly) to traipse on over to cook 'em up a passel--and to bring Tom, too, he being the Olde Swedish Pancake Eater. Megan is from Vermont and knows from maple syrup, though I brought along a little lingonberry, as well, for authenticity. Rachel somehow managed a tasty and beautiful fruit salad, after slaughtering a pineapple in the process and actually getting some of it in the bowl.
Some of the evening was spent brainstorming with M & R about possible entrepreneurial opportunities. They have some very interesting ideas. One promising one is about providing healthy, fresh and affordable packaged meals for skiers at ski resorts (where the food generally meets none of those criteria). Rachel is between jobs (and is not as sure about pursuing the MBA thing as she once was), and Megan is working online every day and looking for a change. Two brilliant and creative brains. It will be fun to watch what happens.
We laughed a bunch. Then we went home.
I don't know how it happens. One day I look at my desk, and I have a big pile of small rectangles of newspaper. It's like the Police Blotter clippings have been breeding overnight. Let's see what's in it, this time.
"2:54 p.m.--A man called from the 12000 block of Creek View Drive to report someone stole a pair of vice grips from his tool shed while he was in jail during the month of March." [I keep MY gold-plated vice grips in a secret safe to avoid such a catastrophe]
"1:48 p.m.--A caller reported a person was lying in the dirt by a fence at Veterans Memorial Park. Police checked on the person, who was just enjoying the sun." [Can't a guy even catch a few rays in peace, around here?]
"3:27 p.m.--A caller from East Main Street at Dorsey Drive reported a hot dog sign was in the roadway. Police found the sign and brought it back to the restaurant where it belonged." [Keep that thing on a leash, at least...]
"11:34 p.m.--A caller reported a man wrapped in a blanket was walking very slowly on Kate Hayes Street. the caller thought police should check on him. Police contacted the 19-year-old man, who was fine and was not drunk. He had walked to the store and he was cold, so he used a blanket." [I hope they informed the caller that the "walking-while-wrapped-in-a-blanket law was repealed years ago]
"6:41 p.m.--A woman called from the 18000 block of Biladeau Lane to report flip flops were missing from her porch and Vicodin was missing from her house." [APB for a casually-dressed person with a big smile.]
"5:57 p.m.--A caller reported a woman was dancing on Broad Street in front of a hotel. Police were unable to locate the woman." [She had already moved on to her next performance as "Somewhat Inebriated Woman Seeking the Powder Room"]
"10:16 a.m.--Officers responded to a non-injury accident on Highway 20 at Highway 49. Police cited a 97-year-old man on suspicion of driving with a suspended license." [Might be time to suspend the old keys from a very tall tree...]
"A caller from the 600 block of Brighton Street reported the theft of a stone elephant sometime in the first half of March. An officer took a report for petty theft." [*sigh*, another Cold Case to file...]
"12:31 a.m.--A caller from the 18000 block of Greenhorn Road reported a large bear on the back porch. The caller was referred to the Department of Fish and Game." [Just up the road a piece. Wonder if it's the same intrepid explorer referred to in the next item, which is just down the road a piece:]
"9:12 a.m.--A caller from the 13000 block of Downwind Court reported neighbors were not keeping trash contained and the bears were bringing it onto the caller's property. The caller wanted to know if this is considered littering." [This'll be keeping the law scholars around here up at night]
"10:02 p.m.--A caller from the 11000 block of Mooney Flat Road reported a person was causing an argument and throwing cheese in her eye. A man at the house also called. He sounded as if he had been drinking, and he said a woman was throwing cheese all over the house and his wife was acting "nutso". The man said the fight was not physical. A woman said "yes" in the background. A deputy determined the fight was not physical. No arrests were made." [So many questions. Who uses cheese as a weapon? Who HAS that much cheese? Jack or cheddar? And if it was a nice Parmigiano Reggiano, throw 'em in the clink and lose the key!]
I tossed about half of them. Folks called the police to report: kids reported riding their bikes to school; the ice cream truck playing music too loud near the school; a guy breaking into his own apartment; more meat truck shenanigans; graffiti on the side of a building; the crime of "juvenile walking funny", etc. You know--same old, same old.
By the by, last weekend, the front page of the Union alloted 2/3 of the front page to the bunny show at the fairgrounds. "It was the first time the National Rhinelander Show, the National Rex Show, and the National Havana Show took place in Nevada County on the same day and at the same venue." And so many people still ask us why we moved here...
One important and welcome side effect of our moving so far from our historic roots is that when folks come for a visit, they have to stay at least overnight. No sense in driving all this way and running off after a few hours. We're like a spider web. And they are the flies. This means that we have longer, more concentrated time for talking and hanging out together. And we like it. You'll have to ask the flies if they do.
Yesterday, Diana and Dick (Tom's sister and brotherinlaw) drove up from Fremont, in the Bay Area, where they were attending a conference. It was their first visit since we've moved. I don't remember when we've had so much time with just the two of them to chat and catch up with life. They live in the Santa Barbara area, so we mostly see them for a few hours near Christmas at the family party, and that's about it. So, it was with great pleasure for us that we could sit and have dinner (at Lefty's), chat through the evening, and enjoy breakfast together, too (well, except for the soggy scones, that is)!
And, as if caught in a spider's web, they had difficulty pulling themselves away. As they were on their way back down Greenhorn to leave town, they found the road blocked for some reason we don't know about yet. They called, and were coming back to our house (heh heh--we have a very sticky web). We decided to meet them on the road to lead them out another way that we'd been told goes through to the highway, but had never tried. Lost Lake Rd. starts out in the usual way, but turns into a very rough, very narrow, deeply-rutted, mud-boggy safari through the forest. It did, however, eventually, get us over the hills and creeks, to the highway, where they were, once again, on their way home.
We hope that we can lure them back for another visit, soon. Haven't had a chance to drag them off to the Empire Mine, or Malakoff Diggins, yet. Our little web will be even stickier, by then...
Far be it from me to poke fun at someone else's attempt to communicate in English as a second language. Well, maybe not that far. I do respect anyone's efforts to write or speak in another tongue, and I know from personal experience how difficult it can be. If my Spanish-speaking friends weren't so polite, I'm pretty sure they'd be on the ground laughing as I stumbled over verb-tense endings, unfamiliar sentence order, and close-but-no-cigar vocabulary. Of course, after I leave, who knows...
That said. One of my small amusements in life is to read English translations of information or instructions on products produced in other countries. Very often, there's just some awkward word order or word choice that signals it was written by someone other than a native speaker and I'm suitably impressed. Rachel actually worked in Germany for a summer smoothing out the English translations for a German company. But, now and then, I come across a product insert from a company that obviously didn't have access to such a luxury.
In the eighties, we hosted a few Japanese students a few weeks at a time through an exchange program. They always brought interesting and lovely gifts. One girl, Momoyo, brought, among other things, a pair of bonzai-trimming shears. I still have the shears, the box, and, most important, the instructions. Most of writing is in Japanese. But the English reads as follows:
"Vonsai Shears" Guaranteed Special selection (with recommendation by each the representation!)
We produce this article in use of special steel fitting best through stuby of long time and new chemical analycis.
It is necessary thermo treetment process "non chip" "non furn up" that to completo sharp and sticky edge. That process is first hardaness "70-80" and after hardness "55-65" by temper.
And this article have strong point of hard to stain. good feeling by chemical color finesh and high Speed grinding. We believe, you are able to enjoy Ikebana and hobby much more on your regular use of the high class Shears with carefull selection and examination.
I just want to find that guy and give him a big hug (and a better dictionary)! Who could resist a product that's non furn up and has a sharp and sticky edge? So, stay alert! You might be tossing out the best laugh of the day as you unwrap that new bird feeder or sushi-maker.
It only took a year (just about to the day, as it turned out). I blanch a little to remember how I told folks that my works spaces would be "up and running" six weeks after we moved. Pretty much a classic example of how my brain just slides over the pesky details of any project. 
The studio is my in-house work area. It's for projects that aren't so big and toxic (glass) or big and dusty (woodworking) or big and messy in other ways (ceramics, printmaking, etc.). The shop is where all the (stuff in parentheses) will happen. 
And it's still a ways from "functional". Although, in the process of building the last piece of storage furniture (vertical file) for the studio, we finally took the time to purge the space of most of the rather large piles of leftover junk (bed, dressers, toys, construction materials, etc.) from the previous occupants. 
It made much more space for our own junk, which we hope to diminish over time (right). Yesterday, we installed a loft ladder (found it at a moving sale down the street) to the loft (which is, effectively, our attic space), and now we're ready for the electrician/ plumber guy to wire the building. 
But the studio is finished! I love it! It's densely packed. I've used up just about every possible storage option imaginable, in there. We plan to put a little patio outside the french doors, which face east. Deer, quail and squirrels wander by, munching acorns. So, here are some photos. The first was taken not too long after we moved in. It was a garage-type workshop area with a roll-up door. Now, it's not. And now, there are no excuses...
That cloud of sawdust seen rising above the San Francisco skyline can probably be traced to a third-floor workshop in the Potrero Hill district. Dylan, with the help of engineering/programming/all-around technical-wizard partner, Troy, has been pushing up against a few deadlines in his quest to become King of Furniture Design (or, at least, a member of the royal court).
We drove to SF on Sunday to lend him the Subaru in order that he can take one of his twisty-cube shelving units to a design show in Phoenix, where it will be on display and in competition with other finalists. On Thursday morning. Of course, it's not quite finished, yet.
He's also, simultaneously building an unusual coffee table for a design showcase in town before he leaves. And there's one more shelving piece he's trying to complete to take with him, if he can swing it (and if Jose, at Earl Scheib, has time to put a car-type finish on it). I didn't want to ask him if the website and the business cards are done. When he returns, there's the mid-May New York show to prepare for. 
We're very excited for him. We think his stuff is great and know that others will love it, as well! But he's one of three members of our immediate family who tend to be schedule-challenged (you might be able to guess which one of us doesn't conform to the pattern) . So we usually, seriously, think life is all under control, until we realize it's not, and we kick in to warp-speed, sleep-deprived super-productivity mode. 
That's where Dylan is, right now. We hung around and learned about the CNC machine and made sure he and Troy got at least one decent meal, yesterday. It was fun for us. The machine is fun to watch. That's pretty much what we did all afternoon. It's computer-driven, and if he can get some folks interested in buying the shelves (or any of the other designs), the machine can be programmed to cut them all by itself, and all he has to do is assemble them. Troy is the Master of the Machine, and he's helping Dylan to learn how to program it. There are lots of moving parts, as they say. 
So, I snapped over 50 photos in the shop. These few give an idea of how the CNC router works. The first is Dylan and Troy having just positioned the walnut-stained bamboo sheet on the bed. #2 is a shot of Dylan working the computer that controls the machine (with Tom and Troy looking on). #3 is a close-up of the bamboo being cut (routed, actually). #4 shows Tom and Dylan looking at the cuts after the machine is finished, and then there are the stacks of pieces, ready to be assembled into the sort of shelving unit I posted on March 10.
That little black cloud seen rising over Grass Valley could be Tom worrying about Dylan's getting everything and his taxes done on time. But it probably means we'll just be getting a bit of rain :o)
Wow! Today is the first anniversary of our move north to Grass Valley! Last year, we drove our cars, filled with an odd collection items (plants to spray paint) from Carlsbad, where we'd spent the night at Dad and Jean's. It was cold and rainy around 6pm when we pulled up into the driveway behind Flo's car. She handed us the keys and left us to explore our new house, specifically the heating system. We'd brought a couple of inflatable beds and blankets, which we set up in our bedroom, but the cold concrete slab underneath overcame our insufficient mastery of the heat program. Next morning, our Stuff arrived. The big truck couldn't make it up the driveway, so we rented two smaller trucks to shuttle it all in, 5 trips in all. Two thoughts dominated that day. "Yipes! those guys are strong!", and, "why did we bring all this junk up here?". All my careful packing, and we still couldn't find anything, like our coats, for example.
One year later, we're glad we came. We still miss our friends, but several have come for fun visits. We see our kids and my sister a lot more often. We're enjoying the weather, power blackouts notwithstanding. It's a beautiful and interesting area to explore, and we like the scale of the small towns. We're mostly unpacked. Tom has a lovely office in the loft, and my cool studio is just recently functional, new computer and all. We're gradually making some new friends. And see more than enough opportunities for deeper involvement in the community, now that we're more settled. We have a dentist, doctors, and a good mechanic. Of course, when we were planning this whole scenario, I was pretty sure that, by now, we would have the studio AND the shop up and running; that all the furniture would be in place, and all the rooms would be decorated; and that we'd be harvesting food and cutting flowers for the table. We did place an order for a sofa, recently, and I have bought some seeds.
But, while some of our projects could be moving along just a little more quickly (perhaps, like the lizards, we'll speed up as the weather gets warmer), we're pretty comfortable, I must say. If people are wondering what the heck we've been doing all this time, they're too polite to mention it. But they'd be right. Sometimes we just goof off.
So, looking forward, we're planning to buy kayaks very soon. We've just begun work on the shop, outside. I will get those seeds started this weekend. Tom is keeping an eye out for musical involvement and I'll be working to find my niche in the arts scene this next year. We look forward to more visits from family and friends--here are still some slots left! We're watching (and helping where we can) as Dylan works on building up a furniture design business, and as Rachel decides where to go to school in the fall.
I think we're doing good! Grass Valley is working out, so far. Come up and see what you think (you, who are far too polite to mention you-know-what)!
So, what's not to like about old, rusty mining equipment and mounds of toxic tailings lurking in a beautiful forest? At Empire Mine State Historical Park, which is, oh, around 12 minutes from here, one can experience the agony and ecstasy of Gold Rush country with which we're surrounded.
The park is a microcosm of the historical and environmental legacy of the gold mining business in this area. The Empire Mine operated from 1850 until 1956, becoming the richest mining operation in California (Grass Valley's erstwhile claim to fame). The center of the park is starkly divided between the treeless, gravel-paved industrial site, where the old buildings and equipment are located, and the gorgeous, shady, grand owner's grounds, where you can see the 4600 sq.ft. summer mansion (called the "Cottage", naturally), among other lovely buildings, the extensive lawns, gardens, fountains, greenhouses, and so on.
So, in one visit, it's possible to start in the hot, dusty, rusty, Kansas, side, watch the blacksmiths work and descend into the stifling blackness of the mineshaft, then, just as you think you're too parched to continue, you can shuffle 2 minutes over to Oz--a parallel universe where all is green, cool, filled with the sound of splashing water, and very la-di-dah--and off-limits to miners, of course. Over the top of all that, one has to imagine the constant (24/7) din of the stamp mills, crushing gold ore into dust, a fact which even the beauty of Oz couldn't muffle. Both sides are fascinating. If you come for a visit, we will probably drag you over there.
But, the giant percentage of the 845 acres of EMSHP, is peaceful, natural forest, laced with walking/riding trails. So pretty! Who cares if you stroll past a few rusty old, half-buried mystery machines? It's like seeing the remnants of an ancient civilization. And the forest is slowly reclaiming the huge mounds of ...hey! Why are no trees growing on some of those mounds? Hmm. Perhaps this is why (see sign). It seems the soil biologists testing the, well, soil, decided last year that shoes, hooves and bike tires could kick up a bit more of the arsenic and cyanide than was healthy to inhale. So, two of the trails I tried to follow, ended abruptly at fences. 
Nevertheless, the Park is large enough, that there were still plenty of lovely paths to follow, and many more to explore, all with acceptable levels of heavy metals, I assume. I plan to go back often. And vote against the effort to reopen the nearby Idaho-Maryland Mine, which is in the planning stages. 80% of the gold may still be down there, but the price to extract it is more than we can afford. Far more than the measly $1000+/oz they'll get for the gold. Besides, we're all the Gold this area needs, now--ha ha (so sorry about that one).
We checked out Rachel's new crib (so hip) Friday evening, just up and over the hill in Truckee. She shares it with her friend, Megan, who has rented it for a year. Rachel will stay until she goes to school in the fall. But, for now, she can unpack her stuff for the first time since August, when she left Boston. It's a great place--mountain-cabin style, plenty of room for them and visitors. In fact, her friend, Jen, and Harveythedog were there to hang out when we dropped in. It's still snowy , up there, and they're hoping to be able to go snowboarding until early May. Such a life! So, after going back to retrieve my camera as were leaving home, I still forgot to take a picture. So, this morning, I scratched one out, real quick. That's Harvey, Jen, Megan and Rachel (l to r) on the balcony. Of course, this scene never took place, and I forgot to add snow. But you get the idea.
One of the reasons we went to Rachel's, was to pick up the Sube, so we could buy some lumber with which to make a vertical file for the studio--the last piece of furniture I'll be able to cram in there. In classic domino style, we bought the materials, then, realized we were going to have to do some serious work in the shop to make enough room to construct the thing.
So, Saturday afternoon, we began the first major overhaul of the shop space since we dumped "everything else" into it on moving day. It was a Chinese puzzle of a job. On top of reorganizing our own stuff (including a significant amount we still need to condense and store in there, for awhile), we had to assess and remove a whole lot of junk left behind from the former occupants--furniture, children's toys, construction materials--that had heretofore been inaccessible. We didn't even know what it all was. Turns out, unfortunately, that they were fellow carriers of the "pack-mule" syndrome--more serious than the "pack-rat" strain--and that this was the dregs of their last move.
Yet, in just two afternoons, we were able to shift, sort and clean our way throughout the space, so that we can now say, uh, that at least we know what it all is. More than that, we have some space to work! More than THAT, it was the opening salvo in a campaign to turn that big, unimproved space into a veritable bee hive of creative energy!! This campaign might challenge the current presidential ones in length (horrors!). It would be just like us to take years to do what we imagined might take weeks (yikes! An Iraqism wants to leap in! Help me!). But we will aim to rise above our past! Yes! Si se puedes!! Ha!
Maybe. We'll see, won't we?
Meanwhile, yesterday, Sunday morning, I took a nice long hike through part of Empire Mine State Historical Park. It's a beautiful place with a dark past. More about that, next time.
Made another quick pilgrimage to Fresno, yesterday. Terry was able to join Mom 'n' me for lunch at California Pizza Kitchen, which was totally cool (except that they haven't put Gorgonzola Pear back on the menu, yet)! I just love being able to swoop in and hang out for an afternoon. We laughed, like we usually do. That's all. But here's a photo. And I get to eat the other half of my pizza on the way back home. I held out until Ripon, this time.
Here are a few things happening locally--
It's spring, of course, and I've mentioned the daffodils. I actually tried to find a spot from which to photograph the freeway flowers, the other day, like the world would stop turning if I couldn't post a photo. I failed, potential outcry notwithstanding. But, here are a few from our own, rather paltry display (though I love them). I was far too conservative (!!) about planting, last fall, and I've learned my lesson. I also learned that all the iris I stuck in amongst the daffs (imagining the dazzling yellow/purple extravaganza we'd be experiencing this spring) don't want to wake up at the same time. So. Next year.
Meanwhile, the dogwoods haven't, yet, flowered at this altitude (they were in full bloom when we moved in, last April 11). I don't know if this is the norm, but there was quite a long notice on the front page of the Union, last week (about 9 column inches), warning everyone to "Watch Out For The Dogwood-Napper". The opening line was, "Do you remember last year when the nasty dogwood-napper was reported in numerous locations in the area, especially around Nevada City?". Apparently, though there is no description of the alleged limb-lopper, there's a guy who, for years, has been going around to cemeteries and private yards, waiting until no one is looking, or trying to convince home-owners that it's healthy for the trees (so not true!), and cutting large quantities of flowering branches. He confided to one person, it's reported, that he, then, sells the branches to florists down the hill. Who knew such serial botanical crime could lurk beneath the surface these quiet little towns?
Speaking of crime, it's time to catch up with the antics of the local population from the latest Police Blotter:
"3:02 p.m.--A man called from the 400 block of Cherry Lane to report two men were attempting to steal his recycle bins. The people left in a bronze-colored vehicle." ["Attempted"? How inept a thief are you if you fail at nabbing old, beat-up recycling bins left out by the street? Of course, folks around here ARE very serious about recycling...]
"1:08 a.m.--Deputies responded to a call of three juveniles running "amok" on the playground at Chicago Park School. Deputies were unable to locate them." [Kids running "amok" on a playground? Could the caller be a complete "idiot"?]
"8:50 a.m.--A caller from the Condon Park reported a possible peeping Tom. The man had a hood over his head and was crouching under a bush looking toward apartments with binoculars. Police contacted the man, who said he was watching wildlife in the park." [did he mean "wildlife"?]
"1:13 a.m.--Officers arrested a 33-year-old man on the 15000 block of Tyler Footed Rad on suspicion of threatening a crime, willfully following and harassing another person, possessing certain weapons, carrying a concealed dagger, evading a peace officer while operation a vehicle and driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs." [ever have "one of those days"?]
"9:21a.m.--A woman called from Dog Bar Road to report someone shot an arrow into a tree next to her daughter, who was outside burning debris. The woman told a deputy she did not see the arrow shot into the tree. She just noticed it was there." [mere juxtaposition of an arrow to burning debris could mean, uh, something]
"3:19 a.m.--A caller from Quail Creek Road reported a man wearing black clothing and a white mask was standing in front of a residence. Deputies were unable to locate the man." [I hope it doesn't mean they're shooting another sequel to "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure", nearby. Really.]
"2:40 a.m.--A caller from the 100 block of Starling Circle reported someone was walking around in her kitchen. Responding officers could not locate anyone else in the home." [Even the caller isn't quite all there...]
"3:35 p.m.--Several callers from apartments on the 200 block of Sutton Way reported a woman threw a television over a railing. Police contacted the people, and all was fine." [In fact, it's the only possible response to Ashley's indiscretion with Josh after she had Andrew's baby after Andrew discovered that he was really Michael's biological son, and that his mother was a hit woman for the Santa Barbara mob and...]
Oh, yeah. And the International Silver Anniversary Teddy Bear Convention begins today at the fairgrounds.
It's a small thing, Burrito Night. It's not a birthday, or anniversary, or Arbor Day. But it comes along much more often, which makes it easier to remember.
When we lived in San Diego, Wednesday nights, nearly year-round, would usually find us either standing at the counter or sitting in a drive-through line at one of several Mexican taco shops located conveniently on our way to church for choir practice. Burritos were so easy to grab and eat on the way or when we got there. Mine was usually the veggie or the fish; Tom generally preferred the carnitas or carne asada. Every week. You can't throw a rock and not hit a taco shop in San Diego. Up here, not so much.
But, from our first week in Grass Valley, most of our Wednesday evenings have found us trying to decide among the three or four locations where we can get burritos to eat. Actually, once we get to one of these places, we give ourselves the option to order something, um, else. It turns out that, while there are many things Grass Valley and Nevada City do well (trees, for example), burritos isn't always one of them. Seems hard to believe, but it's true. These burritos are, without a doubt, a bit healthier. At Uptown Burrito, you can choose between about 26 types of tortilla (well, six). Including whole wheat, of course. At Tortilla Grill (both locations), there might be zucchini, or some such, lurking inside. We've given Paco's Tacos a few chances, but, come away unimpressed. Jimboy's comes a little closer to greasy goodness. A-a-and, that's about it. Unless you go into a Sit-Down-And-Get-Waited-On sort of place. Even then...
But, we still do it, after nearly a whole year (!). It's a nice way to break up the week. And we like commemorating all those years of choir practice/burrito grab 'n' go. Tonight, it's probably Jimboy's turn. But, you should know that if we're ever near a Rubio's or La Posta, don't be standing in the way...
