How's Robb?

... Thanks to all our friends and family for donating to Robb and my fundraising efforts in support of the Bay Area Outreach and Recreation Program (BORP).   It was a dazzlingly sunny day, and the meandering roads in Sonoma County's wine country were filled with disabled riders, and their friends and families.  I'll write more when I'm not quite so exhausted.  Thank you, everyone. We're overwhelmed by your kindness and generosity. 

... I wanted to thank everyone who has contributed (so far) to our BORP fundraising efforts.  Robb and I are truly moved by the generosity shown by all of you. We want to offer our most heartfelt thanks to Anne Ronan Barbara Jordan Bethany Herron Cori Lucas Chris and Erica Fire Ed Cullen Emma Lehman Isabel Ginsberg Jennifer Caleshu Jill Marchant Joan Bauer Kelsey Hogan Lassen Hines Laura Fichtenberg Laurel Przybylski Lisa Braat Lisa Goersch Lli Wilburn Lynn Eve Komaromi   Madeleine Oldham Megan Wygant Mel Bratz Melanie Treuhaft Michael Rosenthal and Marlene Roggow Myrrhia Resneck Pamela Hernandez Polly Ikonen Susie Medak And if anyone else still is able to make a contribution -- of any amount -- we would be so grateful.

Robb and I were riding on the Bay Trail this evening. We had stopped to admire the sunset, when we noticed a Very Happy Doggie on the path. She was smiling and looking over her shoulder, as if she was asking permission to do whatever she was about to do.  But the odd thing was that nobody came around the bend in the trail to join this Very Happy Doggie.  This Very Happy Doggie was accepting of our attention, and I had no trouble reading the phone number on her collar.  I called her owner, who told us that this Very Happy Doggie had been out with the dog-walker when she was attacked by another dog and had broken loose and fled. I arranged a meeting place with the owner.  Robb rigged up a leash, made from a spare inner tube. The Very Happy Doggie was very happy to trot alongside Robb's trike.    The Very Happy Doggie was very happy to be reunited with her person, Jeannie. What neither Robb nor I realized was that this Very Happy Doggie had a large bloody gash on her neck. Despite hav

I've been nursing a late summer cold. I've been camped out on the couch, watching nature documentaries.  The cats love this. 

.... Every autumn for the past nine (!!!) years, Robb and I have participated in a fundraising event for a wonderful local organization, the Bay Area Outreach and Recreation Program (BORP).  We join an armada of disabled cyclists, casual riders, and serious athletes who all come together to help improve the lives of people with disabilities.  It's a beautiful event, through Northern California's wine country, but what makes it beautiful isn't the landscape, it's the people.  Each year we ride with throngs of people with disabilities, and with their friends and families. We ride with blind cyclists, legless cyclists, frail and paralyzed cyclists. And each of them is a TOTAL FREAKING BADASS.  They are all out, pushing against their physical limitations and having a blast. They're all raising money for a seriously good cause, and having a hell of a lot of fun in the process. So what's it all about? *********************

Our somewhat-feral cat Sleeves is a great mystery. Sometimes it seems like he can't see a thing, which is deeply distressing for all parties involved. He stands sobbing in our kitchen, apparently terrified because he can't find his brother Cardigan, and all the while Cardigan is standing right next to him. I'd accept the theory that blue-eyed Sleeves was blind, if I didn't regularly see him traversing the neighbors' rooftops, or (thankfully, not-so-regularly) plucking birds from the air.  When Sleeves starts panicking, Robb and I try to comfort him. The thing is, I never know what's going to set him off. I'll be petting him, and he'll be in a frenzy of bliss. And then suddenly he'll get spooked. In an instant, his world will go from Joy to Terror.  Having Cardigan around comforts Sleeve's fears. And if Sleeves can't snuggle up with a capital-C Cardigan, he can always avail himself of my current lower-case-C cardigan knitting project.  Really,

Six years ago, when we bought our little house, we'd have glimpses of two shy cats who occasionally passed through our back yard.  These cats were extremely wary of humans, and just wanted to be left alone. We could not approach them. If we got near, they'd shoot out of sight.  I named them Cardigan and Sleeves, and declared that I would be petting them within six months. Robb, no doubt, thought I was crazy.  But he's too polite to say anything. With calmness and kindness and patience and food, we've convinced these two sweet brothers that we're not actually Vicious Cat Murderers. Also, they've noticed that we own a lot of comfy furniture.  But they're still Totally Feral, Right?

California is a very big place.  It's easy for us to look at a map showing a wild fire or earthquake zone and take some comfort in how very far away it seems. Over the past week we had only this vague notion about the location of the Valley Fire.  The human toll was all too real.  The speed and ferocity of this fire, the people of the region who escaped with only what they could carry or pack into their cars. The lives disrupted. The place names weren't particularly familiar to us, though. Until this morning. The report of damage to the geothermal generating facilities at The Geysers caught our attention. Apparently the fire is heading toward Geyserville where we're going for the annual BORP Revolution ride in 10 days.  For us, this puts a face to the tragedy at last.  We know these people, that landscape, the vineyards and the towns. In some places we know every inch of the road.  It all suddenly seems so fragile now. We'll be keeping a close watch o

 Hard to believe but this is our 9th consecutive year riding to raise money for BORP's programs for people with disabilities ( I just counted on my fingers— twice). We hope you can join us in support of this incredibly rewarding effort. We'll be pushing ourselves to the limits.  All you have to do is click here .

Robb and I have just returned from a much-needed weekend out-of-town. I have been working an unrelenting schedule, and was mentally and physically exhausted.  Our next-door neighbors kept an eye on the chickens, and we left food out for the kitties.  And when we came home, we found all the dinner plates smashed.  Thankfully, these were all IKEA plates. None of the vintage dishes were broken.  And this lovely cocktail shaker was sitting on the railing of our back porch.  There have been no earthquakes in Oakland while we were gone, so I'm inclined to blame the cats.  But who brought over the cocktail shaker?  

Smog takes his job as String Supervisor very seriously. 

Robb and I go to a lot of estate sales. We've long realized that we had the design tastes of ninety year old college professors, so furnishing our home this way makes perfect sense.  I will be the first to admit that I have a bit of a problem, when it comes to vintage textiles. I've bought more knitting patterns, lace dresser scarves and 1930s quilts than I can possibly use. I've dragged home handknit sweaters because they evoked an emotion somewhere between inspiration and pity. I just couldn't leave them behind.  Feral cats and vintage textiles twang the same set of heart-strings.  It's a sickness.   So a few weeks ago, I bought a tiny vintage loom. It was already set up, so I just started fooling around, and this is what I wove. My effort is the top part of the photo, the original owner wove the part on the bottom.  Just as I try to avoid adopting all the cats, I'm going to resist the urge to start shopping for larger looms.  We'll see how that goes.