Nillytour 2004, San Francisco, Saturday 8/21 (part the second)

The climb reminded me of my first apartment in the historic section of Bordentown, NJ, on the 2½ floor. Narrow, off-level and off-plumb, but quite charming. Once inside I instantly recognized the hallway I had seen in photographs: Jacqueline in her tiara, David in his suit. The walls jogged to the left, and there was a collection of framed photos on the wall, one of a white-blond teenaged boy with a very familiar face. Then the hall opened into the living room, where people were gathered to watch cartoons with Emmett. David led through the kitchen onto the back deck, and I sank gratefully into a chair and drank in the leafy seclusion and birdsong. It's a lovely deck, surrounded by trees, and mostly screened from other decks and the first-floor terraces. Lee and Laura left fairly soon, to go help Deb set up for the afternoon barbecue, but Nilly, Jessica, Ellen, Larry, David and I sat and talked for an hour or more, on subjects ranging from hair care to gardening. Jacqueline was driving to Deb's, so Ellen and I rode, rather than attacking the steeper route through the park the others were taking to Deb's. And Ellen and I were gifted with an impromptu driving tour of the neighborhood, the varying styles and ages of the houses, the hills, the pocket parks. It was very thoughtful of Jacqueline.

When we arrived at Chez Grabien, Nic had the grill going, and meat on the fire. Deb was marshalling volunteers to carry food down to the patio, and when that was done, I changed to warmer clothes. Familiar faces were already there, Andrea, Marta, Nicole, as well as new faces, and people continued to arrive, some people I had yet to meet: Karl, Eli and Brent, Hillary, Lexine, Consuela, Sparky and Matt. Karl and I had a chance for a longish conversation, about families and expectations and disappointments. I learned he'd lived for a time in Tennessee, and he made a comment colloquial to the south and for that moment lapsed into accent—and sounded like home. That was the only pang of homesickness I felt all weekend, that one familiar sounding phrase.

H called, sounding lonesome and tired. I told him Deb had liked the present he'd made for her, and then she walked by and I handed her the phone and told her who it was, so she thanked him herself. It was nice to hear from him, and I wished in that moment he was there, too. Even though I know he hates gatherings, knew no one, and would likely be uncomfortable. But he wished me a good time, so I hung up feeling better for having heard from him.

Lois was late arriving—and she had the backup beer. She called to let us know she was near, and we chanted, "beer! beer! beer!" to the held-out phone. She arrived moments later, with the beer, and with Katie and Deena. Katie had brought me a huge bag of fresh-picked lavender the day before, and now she brought me a lavender wand she'd made, and a roll of ribbon. She suggested we try making wands, so I ran up to my room and got the bag. She mentioned that it was damp when she'd picked it, and thought it would be good to open the bag and let it air a bit, so we did that. Deena had her beach treasures spread on the table, but she and Katie sorted them and bagged them. I had a raging headache over my right eye. Karl had gone to the store and bought me Aleve and a ginger ale, Brent had given me a scalp massage, but the scent of the lavender stems knocked at the sore spot, so we didn't work on the wands, after all. Deena brought out the bath bombs and gift soaps she had made, and as people stopped by she let them take any three they liked. (The basil-lime is NOT manly. It's fresh and yummy!) There were so many conversations, and the groups were fluid, people moving from group to group, so everyone got chances to talk with everyone else. I liked the Deena-Nicole-Lexine corner, and tended to stay in it.

The food was fantastic: the chicken fell off the bone, the burgers were sublime. I didn't have either a Reuben or the ribs, but if the chicken was any gauge, they must have been marvelous. The salad and drunken fruit were fantastic. Consuela had brought a blueberry pie, and those who know her baking skills were eager to cut it. I've heard so much about Deb's chocolate decadence dessert I've always wanted to try it. I don't care for blueberries, so I left the pie for those who do, and had a bit of decadence with a dollop of Breyer's natural vanilla ice cream—heaven on a fork! Of course, the evening before, watching Nilly taste her first-ever Breyers vanilla and watching her face light up with joy was a memory worth keeping. "This is what vanilla should taste like!"

Kristin arrived, and met Nilly—they were both delighted to find they are nearly of a size. I spent as much time as I could with Deena, but it wasn't enough. I said goodnight to her and Nicole as Katie volunteered to take them to their hotel. The afternoon wound down, the sun went down and it started to get a little chilly, so I retreated inside. A bit later someone mentioned there was pizza, so I braved the chill and the dark for a slice. I was peopled out, so I used the computer in Deb's office to catch up in the F2F thread and clear my email, and then I stalked cats. Catlike, they like to be near new people, but are not so eager to be touched. By the time Deb came in (she had driven people to their hotels), it was dark. She proposed a driving tour of the city, which Ginger, Kristin, Nilly and I quickly agreed to. It was marvelous.

Deb really loves San Francisco, and she knows all the good places. We spent some time on the waterfront, taking pictures against the distant light of Alcatraz and admiring the waterfront houses. She drove to the Palace of Fine Arts, and we got out to walk closer, and snapped more pictures. Then through one of the more expensive neighborhoods, full of high-prices houses. The one memory that sticks in my mind, though is the sight of a large skunk strutting up the walk of one of those multimillion dollar homes toward the door as if he owned the place. Deb drove through the Presidio, which I've seen in movies, and which looked so familiar. As she told us where she was taking us and what she was going to show us next, every time I heard something familiar, The Presidio, The Golden Gate Bridge, The Rodin, I'd yip an involuntary "Yay!" Nilly laughed. "Exactly! That's what I was going to say, only you said it first!" We parked next to the water at the Presidio, and Deb took Nilly's picture in the headlights, posed with the Golden Gate in the background, and then she moved the car to take another picture of Nilly with the city in the background. Then we drove up to see the Rodin, and finally downtown to take Kristin to her hotel. Then we scooted for home. Deb had been a fantastic hostess all day, and the next day she was driving one of three cars through the wine country! Nilly and I went to bed almost as soon as we got back to the house. What a great day! A discovery walk, a visit to Chez Zmayhem, two driving tours, and a great barbecue with many wonderful people.

Nillytour 2004, San Francisco, Saturday 8/21 (part the second)

The climb reminded me of my first apartment in the historic section of Bordentown, NJ, on the 2½ floor. Narrow, off-level and off-plumb, but quite charming. Once inside I instantly recognized the hallway I had seen in photographs: Jacqueline in her tiara, David in his suit. The walls jogged to the left, and there was a collection of framed photos on the wall, one of a white-blond teenaged boy with a very familiar face. Then the hall opened into the living room, where people were gathered to watch cartoons with Emmett. David led through the kitchen onto the back deck, and I sank gratefully into a chair and drank in the leafy seclusion and birdsong. It's a lovely deck, surrounded by trees, and mostly screened from other decks and the first-floor terraces. Lee and Laura left fairly soon, to go help Deb set up for the afternoon barbecue, but Nilly, Jessica, Ellen, Larry, David and I sat and talked for an hour or more, on subjects ranging from hair care to gardening. Jacqueline was driving to Deb's, so Ellen and I rode, rather than attacking the steeper route through the park the others were taking to Deb's. And Ellen and I were gifted with an impromptu driving tour of the neighborhood, the varying styles and ages of the houses, the hills, the pocket parks. It was very thoughtful of Jacqueline.

When we arrived at Chez Grabien, Nic had the grill going, and meat on the fire. Deb was marshalling volunteers to carry food down to the patio, and when that was done, I changed to warmer clothes. Familiar faces were already there, Andrea, Marta, Nicole, as well as new faces, and people continued to arrive, some people I had yet to meet: Karl, Eli and Brent, Hillary, Lexine, Consuela, Sparky and Matt. Karl and I had a chance for a longish conversation, about families and expectations and disappointments. I learned he'd lived for a time in Tennessee, and he made a comment colloquial to the south and for that moment lapsed into accent—and sounded like home. That was the only pang of homesickness I felt all weekend, that one familiar sounding phrase.

H called, sounding lonesome and tired. I told him Deb had liked the present he'd made for her, and then she walked by and I handed her the phone and told her who it was, so she thanked him herself. It was nice to hear from him, and I wished in that moment he was there, too. Even though I know he hates gatherings, knew no one, and would likely be uncomfortable. But he wished me a good time, so I hung up feeling better for having heard from him.

Lois was late arriving—and she had the backup beer. She called to let us know she was near, and we chanted, "beer! beer! beer!" to the held-out phone. She arrived moments later, with the beer, and with Katie and Deena. Katie had brought me a huge bag of fresh-picked lavender the day before, and now she brought me a lavender wand she'd made, and a roll of ribbon. She suggested we try making wands, so I ran up to my room and got the bag. She mentioned that it was damp when she'd picked it, and thought it would be good to open the bag and let it air a bit, so we did that. Deena had her beach treasures spread on the table, but she and Katie sorted them and bagged them. I had a raging headache over my right eye. Karl had gone to the store and bought me Aleve and a ginger ale, Brent had given me a scalp massage, but the scent of the lavender stems knocked at the sore spot, so we didn't work on the wands, after all. Deena brought out the bath bombs and gift soaps she had made, and as people stopped by she let them take any three they liked. (The basil-lime is NOT manly. It's fresh and yummy!) There were so many conversations, and the groups were fluid, people moving from group to group, so everyone got chances to talk with everyone else. I liked the Deena-Nicole-Lexine corner, and tended to stay in it.

The food was fantastic: the chicken fell off the bone, the burgers were sublime. I didn't have either a Reuben or the ribs, but if the chicken was any gauge, they must have been marvelous. The salad and drunken fruit were fantastic. Consuela had brought a blueberry pie, and those who know her baking skills were eager to cut it. I've heard so much about Deb's chocolate decadence dessert I've always wanted to try it. I don't care for blueberries, so I left the pie for those who do, and had a bit of decadence with a dollop of Breyer's natural vanilla ice cream—heaven on a fork! Of course, the evening before, watching Nilly taste her first-ever Breyers vanilla and watching her face light up with joy was a memory worth keeping. "This is what vanilla should taste like!"

Kristin arrived, and met Nilly—they were both delighted to find they are nearly of a size. I spent as much time as I could with Deena, but it wasn't enough. I said goodnight to her and Nicole as Katie volunteered to take them to their hotel. The afternoon wound down, the sun went down and it started to get a little chilly, so I retreated inside. A bit later someone mentioned there was pizza, so I braved the chill and the dark for a slice. I was peopled out, so I used the computer in Deb's office to catch up in the F2F thread and clear my email, and then I stalked cats. Catlike, they like to be near new people, but are not so eager to be touched. By the time Deb came in (she had driven people to their hotels), it was dark. She proposed a driving tour of the city, which Ginger, Kristin, Nilly and I quickly agreed to. It was marvelous.

Deb really loves San Francisco, and she knows all the good places. We spent some time on the waterfront, taking pictures against the distant light of Alcatraz and admiring the waterfront houses. She drove to the Palace of Fine Arts, and we got out to walk closer, and snapped more pictures. Then through one of the more expensive neighborhoods, full of high-prices houses. The one memory that sticks in my mind, though is the sight of a large skunk strutting up the walk of one of those multimillion dollar homes toward the door as if he owned the place. Deb drove through the Presidio, which I've seen in movies, and which looked so familiar. As she told us where she was taking us and what she was going to show us next, every time I heard something familiar, The Presidio, The Golden Gate Bridge, The Rodin, I'd yip an involuntary "Yay!" Nilly laughed. "Exactly! That's what I was going to say, only you said it first!" We parked next to the water at the Presidio, and Deb took Nilly's picture in the headlights, posed with the Golden Gate in the background, and then she moved the car to take another picture of Nilly with the city in the background. Then we drove up to see the Rodin, and finally downtown to take Kristin to her hotel. Then we scooted for home. Deb had been a fantastic hostess all day, and the next day she was driving one of three cars through the wine country! Nilly and I went to bed almost as soon as we got back to the house. What a great day! A discovery walk, a visit to Chez Zmayhem, two driving tours, and a great barbecue with many wonderful people.

GWW 8/16 challenge-- "Stomach" (excerpted from another lj entry)

Waking abruptly in a dark and unfamiliar house, getting one's body, stiffened from prolonged airline seat confinement, up off the mattress on the floor, finding the door in the dark without waking one's roommate, finding the bathroom door, and the light switch, and getting the door shut behind me without waking my hosts was accomplished, but not in time. I cleaned up the mess as well as I could, and then remembered that my suitcase, and clean underwear, was beyond my roommate's bed. There was no way to get to it in the dark without waking her. So I yanked down the tail of my sleeping shirt and went back to bed.

GWW 8/16 challenge-- "Stomach" (excerpted from another lj entry)

Waking abruptly in a dark and unfamiliar house, getting one's body, stiffened from prolonged airline seat confinement, up off the mattress on the floor, finding the door in the dark without waking one's roommate, finding the bathroom door, and the light switch, and getting the door shut behind me without waking my hosts was accomplished, but not in time. I cleaned up the mess as well as I could, and then remembered that my suitcase, and clean underwear, was beyond my roommate's bed. There was no way to get to it in the dark without waking her. So I yanked down the tail of my sleeping shirt and went back to bed.

Crossposted to great_write_way

Drabble challenge 8/23—"escape" (modified excerpt from an lj entry)

I was dreaming about something pleasant when, as dreams will do, it became an episode of Night Court. Odd, there were no familiar cast members--only an unfamiliar janitor, and the "set" was a public restroom. A woman or young girl had somehow slipped into a pipe and was caught. I don't know whether head-down or not, but suddenly it became imperative to wake up, because if I dreamt anymore I'd discover the trapped person was me. I had to get up, out of bed, because if I fell back asleep I'd dream it again, and it was horribly frightening.

Crossposted to great_write_way

Drabble challenge 8/23—"escape" (modified excerpt from an lj entry)

I was dreaming about something pleasant when, as dreams will do, it became an episode of Night Court. Odd, there were no familiar cast members--only an unfamiliar janitor, and the "set" was a public restroom. A woman or young girl had somehow slipped into a pipe and was caught. I don't know whether head-down or not, but suddenly it became imperative to wake up, because if I dreamt anymore I'd discover the trapped person was me. I had to get up, out of bed, because if I fell back asleep I'd dream it again, and it was horribly frightening.