Very Thankful for: Community

It's Thanksgiving morning, and Jerry's strategizing about what time is best to go line up to collect a fancy cake for my sister's birthday. 

Not early--he already missed that boat--but late, he thinks, because the bakery workers "won't be chatting" and the line will go faster.

I've got a mountain of green beans to prepare.

But here's a thankful thought:

I'm so grateful for the communities I'm part of.

Thanks for the pool community, especially Anne, Val, and Ellen.  In the past year, we've helped pack up Ellen, so she could move to assisted living in New Hampshire.  We miss her.

Thanks for the quilting community, especially the No Problems mini-group. This includes Mabry, Ann, Rebecca, Claudia A., Marion, Angie, Sue, Deanna, Peg, Agnes, and Karen.  It was a golden day when I was invited to join 11 years ago.  These are ladies who will never let you down, about quilting or anything else.

 

Thanks for  my block community.  There are 24 houses, and we recognize and "know" each other in a comforting way, but I'm especially grateful for Laura, Leah, Annika, and Reina.  This year Jerry and I flew to Boston for Leah's college graduation, and we're having Thanksgiving dinner with them today.

And thanks for the Berkeley Food Pantry community, particularly Barbara and Anne.  My friend and co-volunteer Judy (back row, left) moved to Boston this year, but we're still in touch..

I realize as I write this that there's cross-over between these communities: pool/Pantry, quilt group/Pantry, and, come to think of it, blog readers/Pantry.   (Hmm, I may be a little over-enthusiastic about recruiting Pantry supporters.)

Communities anchor me.  I feel very lucky.
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Walking Wombs?

 
In the past week or so, there have been a number of truly scary (and maddening) news stories:

1.  The Supreme Court will hear Hobby Lobby's challenge to the Affordable Care Act mandate that employer-provided health insurance provide contraceptives, including the morning after pill.  Can a corporation claim the religious freedom and therefore control a woman's fertility?

2.  A woman lost custody of her baby because a judge agreed with her ex-boyfriend, Olympic skier Bodie Miller, that she'd left California while pregnant in order to avoid a custody battle with him.  In fact, she moved so that she could accept a graduate fellowship at Columbia University.  Their relationship had lasted one month, and he had urged her to get an abortion when she first discovered she was pregnant.  The father and his wife got custody after the baby was born and are fighting to keep him.

3.  The "personhood" movement is attempting to define a fertilized egg as a person.  Think about where this could go--not just in the definition of viability vis a vis abortion, but about controlling pregnant women, making  them conform to proscribed standards of prenatal care and behavior or be arrested or lose custody of their child.

4.  PBS and the New York Times have investigated a case in St. Augustine, Florida, in which the girlfriend of a deputy sheriff died of a supposedly self-inflicted gunshot wound.  The investigation was so tightly circumscribed that neighbors and the victim's family were never interviewed.   Despite ample evidence that the boyfriend killed her, he was never prosecuted and continues to be a deputy sheriff. 

The pro-life lobby has a hand in #1 and #3, which means there are other women who want to control a woman's fertility (and life).   Ignorant judges are part of the problem (#2).  The closed-ranks attitude toward police officers who are perpetrators of domestic violence is another (#4).

We are 50% of the population!  There are doctors, lawyers, and scholars among us, and yet these blatant attempts to control women's lives go on and on.  Where are Hillary, Nancy, DiFi, and, for that matter, Elizabeth Warren?  Women's rights, our worth, our stature are being eaten away at.   (Not so much mine personally, because post-menopausal women seem to be invisible.)

Okay, now I'll give thanks:  that I live in Berkeley, where enlightened attitudes about women prevail (but not without exception).  That I'm married to a man who respects women.  That I live in the 21st century when women--at least technically--are not property.

Or are they?

Thanksgiving Lines and Cuties

We were amazed yesterday at the Berkeley Food Pantry when we totaled up the names and found we'd given out food to 111 clients.  They just kept coming.

The line twisted around the parking lot, but the mood was mellow despite the wait. (Not so on Friday, apparently, when people came close to blows over double parking.)

The volunteers worked liked demons, checking people in, bringing out bags, helping people to their cars, moving people along. 

The little girl at the left is named "Cheyenne."  She came in with her dad.  After I took her picture, I gave her some M&M's, holding up the line while I went in the back room to find them.  The kids are a definite lift, even though I hate to think of children not having enough food.

People bring in big grocery carts, which take up a lot of room, but what else can they do?  Many are on foot.  Some wanted to know if we had turkeys--no, because we have nowhere to store them.  Instead the Pantry was giving out large frozen chickens, $4,000 worth, according to Tami, the director.

Some other  very cute clients showed up:

Brothers who showed up with their mom. They got M&M's, too.

Mr. Adorable Returns

Rylan, who is Claudia M.'s nephew, visited this weekend.  It's enough to make me want to have a baby, but would I get one this charming?

At three-and-a-half, Rylan has a big vocabulary, insatiable curiosity, and boundless energy, except when he doesn't, and then he fights sleep.  He goes to pre-school, wears fancy shoes that light up when he walks, and is seriously besotted with trucks.

I briefed him on the Tooth Fairy and played up the money he'd collect on his baby teeth. He seemed borderline apprehensive.  Then I told him that the Tooth Fairy gives children's teeth to old people who've lost theirs.  I heard a child talk about this on NPR.  (Why not?)

Then I made a deal with him:  if he'd let Claudia take a picture of him with me, he could take pictures of her and Jerry.

Here's what we came up with:

Obediently still while Claudia takes a picture



 

The devoted aunt rewarded with this shot

 

 

A blurry rendition of Jerry

But then, he's always on the run:

Outcomes

 

Energy hog?

Breakfast this morning consisted of me trying to eat while Jerry ran around the kitchen flipping on appliances to see if the lights dimmed.

"How about this?" he asked, trying the toaster.

The lights did dim--but why?  Switch on the hot pot and lights flicker.   Forget the microwave--it whirs almost silently and the food is stone cold.  What's up?  High winds last night blew down some power lines?  Or  is the ancient electrical system in this house packing it in?

Do I call PG&E and see what's up?  Or wait, because after all we do have some power, unlike some neighborhoods on the Peninsula. 

* * * * *

Quilt winner:  Margaret, my sister's college roommate,  put in the winning bid of $275.  My sister pledged another $25, rounding it off  to an even $300.  She now owns one square of the quilt.

Margaret plans to hang the quilt in her law office, replacing "a cheesy 'painting' from Costco."

Congratulations to Margaret, and many thanks to blog readers/bidders, who've contributed a total of $700 to the Berkeley Food Pantry through quilt auctions this year! And thanks to Angie Woolman, who donated the machine quilting.

I'm already thinking about the next quilt.  Scraps from Margaret's quilt?

 

 

Or leftovers from the big quilt I'm working on now:

 

More undertstated

 

No idea.  

* * * * *

Aprons:  Opinion was evenly divided, so I bought some of each for the Monday crew at the Pantry.     I have an idea that some of the more staid  (sane?) volunteers will prefer stripes, and the exhibitionists among us will go with veggies.

For the more manic?

I feel as though this is a bit like  rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, but it's either this or buying a lot of See's candy and offering a piece to each client--this is where my mind goes in the face of all the need.  Pretty much inconsequential, but after donating time and money and food, what else to do?

* * * * *

 

We're going next door to my friend Laura's for Thanksgiving.  Her daughter Leah is flying in from NYC to mastermind the dinner.  Hurray!  Practically stress-free, plus much better food than we'd have here AND fun people to drink prosecco with.

 

My assignment is a vegetable, and I broke out into a sweat over that until I decided being myself was the best policy, put away the cookbooks,  and committed to simple buttered green beans.   Leah says fine, so that's that.

Darth & Daughters

Mary,  Liz, and Dick Cheney in 2000

A friend asked if I were going to write about the conflict Liz and Mary Cheney are having over gay marriage, Liz being intent on winning a Senate race in the very conservative state of Wyoming.

And her own personal sister being a lesbian who is married and has children.

Nora Ephron described Julie Eisenhower as "a chocolate-covered spider."  I've always thought that about the Cheney clan, except Dick, who isn't even chocolate-covered.  He's just awful-scary-Darth-Vaderish.

Liz Cheney says gay marriage should be left up to the states, which is crazy because we'd still have segregation in the South and possibly even slavery.  Possibly even women not being able to vote.

Mary and her wife are outraged that Liz thinks it's okay for them to have a second-class relationship, and they're protesting on Facebook.  The Cheney parents, ever expedient-pragmatic, have thrown their lot with Liz, saying it's a sad family matter but  that Wyoming has the right to decide to be repressive.

I don't care about any of them, really, but I do care about human rights, so I'm on Mary's side.  I was actually slightly encouraged to hear that Liz has been opposed to gay marriage for years, rather than just now in order to win a race.  I guess there's some kind of principle there.

She has only one sister, for heaven's sake.  Doesn't anything trump politics?  (And then I remembered that Julie and Tricia had a major falling out not that long ago, which I have to admit gave me a whole lot of pleasure to read about.)

Aprons, chickens, heartbreak

Yesterday was so crazy at the Food Pantry that I barely had time to grab my phone and take a picture of this little adorable, who was our youngest client.  She came in with her mom and her binkie.

This month, the Pantry is giving out a frozen chicken and a smallish bag of Thanksgiving fixin's (cranberry sauce, stuffing mix, etc.) to each client. 

The clients are staggering out with more bags than usual, many with double-parked cars in the lot or grocery carts or roller bags to get it all home.  Some walk.  Some ride the bus. Some take BART.

That sounds like a lot of food, but it's not.  No milk, no eggs, no juice for  the children, lots of canned stuff. .  It's a make-do, but they seem especially grateful.

I kept looking up from checking in clients on the computer to see a growing line of drawn, concerned faces watching me work as fast as I could.  It was cold yesterday, and they were standing outside.

"Sorry for the wait," I'd say.

"No problem," they'd invariably reply.  Humbling.

To divert myself, I began to think about buying inexpensive aprons for the front-room crew.  They'd give us a lift, anyway.

Amazon has a slew of aprons, and I've already spent quite a bit of time poring over possibilities.

 

1940's wallpaper-cheerful print?

 

 

 

Green stripe?  A bit more dignified?   Do we care?

 

 

Anyway, it'd be a morale boost for the volunteers.  So much gratitude in the face of heartbreak, so much need, so little we can do.

 

Which apron do you vote for? 

 



 

Weekly Wrap-up: Pumpkins, a party, and a visitor from Texas

On Thursday, I took these pictures of favorite street of mine in the Rockridge neighborhood of north Oakland.  I walk it every month or so when I go for a check-in with my sleep doctor (no more meetings after January--cured!).  I always admire the craftsman houses, some updated, some not, all with personality.

Love the paint job on this house. And now white pumpkins to match.

 

 

 

Definitely fall

 

 

 

If you squint, you'll see the figure on the porch that always surprises me.  It's a mannequin .

 

 

Just about buried in leaves

 

 

 

I love the polka dot pot

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

My sister's friends threw her a 60th birthday party in San Jose.  Jerry and I drove down for it and spent the night at the Fairmont San Jose.  Table for 20,  wine pairings, cupcakes:

 

 

At Savory Kitchen, San Jose

  

 

 





Fall centerpiece.  She was the first baby born on Thanksgiving Day, 1953, at San Jose Hospital.

 

 

 

A circle for each course's wine glass

 

 

My sister thanking people who enrich her "universe," as she gracefully put it

 

 

Her fans listening to toasts

 

 

Her friend and neighbor, Julie

 

 

 

Birthday girl (center, wearing glasses) with admirers

 

 

Chocolate, vanilla, and banana cupcakes for dessert

 

 

 

I went with the gardener (we forgot our party clothes; fortunately brought the shoes and scarf, and the "festive" clothes suggestion turned out to be open to wide interpretation.) 

 

 

...which were still in a garment bag when we got home.

 

 

 

View from our hotel room: A harvest moon rising over downtown San Jose and  the San Jose State campus

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

And we had a visitor from Texas, Jerry's son, David.  They took hikes for three days, and David showed us how to consume most of a meatloaf in one night (no, seriously, it was flattering).

 

 



 

 

                         It's startling to see someone you met when he was 15 now wearing bifocals.

 

 

Loved having you, David.  And thanks to his wife, Michele, who is a commercial airline pilot and can wangle near-free flights for him.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Another reminder:  Only five days left to bid on the 45" square, machine-washable quilt I made to benefit the Berkeley Food Pantry.  Highest current bid: $275. 



 

 

 

 

 

 

Weddings from a Guest's Point of View

Quilt bidding stands at $275, and bidding ends next Thursday, November 21, at noon.  I'll check my e-mail, Facebook, and combox then.  Good luck!

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The most stressful, anyway

I was at the hair salon waiting for some highlights to come to life under a heat lamp,  and there was nothing to read but a magazine called, "Martha Stewart's Weddings."

So I read about current trends in weddings.  It was all pretty luscious, pretty pricey.

But the more I read, the less it became about money and the more it felt like an unbelievable, consuming amount of work.

Poor brides!  It's amazing what a huge, stressful project a lot of them take on!

One bride scoured vintage clothing stores to find an antique dress for each of six bridesmaids:



Each one different, each "sourced" by the bride.

 

If I had been  a guest at this wedding, I would never have appreciated the effort the bride went to, and I might even have thought--bad me--"hmm, all those old-fashioned nightgowns."  Now that I look at the picture, I see each has a different colored ribbon, another thing the bride had to figure out.

 

Then there's what seems to be called a "suite" of bridal stationery: an arty invitation, reply card, and thank you notes:

 

Think of the decisions!  All coordinated.  Note the embossing.

And the cake, with its "mood" and "look":




Pomegranates!  Can't see the cake for the well-thought out array of decorations.

 

The colors on this cake coordinated with the bouquets, tablecloths, invitations, favors, and bridesmaids' dresses. (Again, the work!)

 

Or how about this?  "Enliven the lapels":

 

Each guy should get a different boutonniere?

 

 As an Experienced Wedding Guest,  I'd like to tell all these overworked, stressed-out brides is that no one notices all these details.  At least I don't.  (Or Jerry, who guts out the ceremony, waiting impatiently for what he calls "the conception," where the food and drink are served.)

 

I notice the vibe of a wedding, whether or not the bride and groom are having fun, whether people feel comfortable--which I will not if I have to dress up too much, which includes wearing Spanx.  Please keep it casual.

An $8000 Oscar de la Renta dress that probably requires uncomfortable underwear

Instead of coordinating all this stuff, I want to tell brides, why not just include whatever you happen to like, a random collection of things you'll be comfortable with?  It'll work, and it will take less effort, less worry.

 

And forget as many of the proscribed "traditional touches" as you can.  Favors, for example.  No one will miss them.

 

But so many young women--from toddlerhood-- are told it's the most important day of their lives that of course they're going to want perfection.  And perfection is always hell to shoot for.  (I remember when I was about 5 singing "Here Comes the Bride, the Princess, the Ballerina--can't get more glammy-ultimate than that.)    

 

Here's my wedding cake in 1977: 

 



 

1977

 

 

Notice the bouquet on top of the cake?  Here it is today:

 

 

2013

 

Probably no guest remembers what this looked like.  I had to look at a picture to jog my memory, and I'm the bride who fretted over it.