Goodbye, Chuck

Chuck is not my cat. He belongs to everyone; everyone who lives in the area and shops at Murieta Plaza. He is "Chuck the Plaza cat."

Chuck was found almost 20 years ago behind the Ace Hardware in the little Plaza shopping centre at Rancho Murieta. He was captured then by Jerry Golsong, who worked at the hardware store. For 12 years the cat was a fixture at the store, usually sleeping on the checkout counter.

When the hardware store was sold, the new owners made a place for the cat. Golsong, who no longer worked there, came back often and visited his buddy. But the cat moved his headquarters to a real estate office, where he has been royally treated.

Over the years the entire shopping center has been his home. He has his own Facebook page. Here is one of the comments there: "Chuck is such an amazing community cat. I have seen him over the past 12 years curled up on the counter at Ace Hardware, loafing around, sleeping and soliciting love at [the real estate office], strolling around the center checking out his home territory and just generally adding a little elegance and class to the whole place."

A couple of weeks ago I ran into Chuck outside Plaza Foods, the grocery store.

The small dog in the background was tied. Chuck would wait for someone to come out of the store, then dash in through the door before it closed. He almost appeared to be thumbing his nose at the dog. As I sat in my car, Chuck made it through the door at least 3 times, and each time he was gently carried back out by one of the employees.

Then I read in the local paper that Chuck has been going downhill. His age has finally caught up with him. When I went to the store this week, Chuck was in a comfy bed right outside the door.

I'm sure he's there because that's where he wants to be. I know he's being watched and cared for, and taken back into the real estate office at night. He's getting a little thin, but he's still a pampered fellow.

Meanwhile, people going in and out of the store often bend down and scratch the old boy's ears and say goodbye to him. I did. And then I cried all the way home, even though this isn't a sad thing at all.

It's just what I do.

Typical California Overreaction

People in other parts of the nation make fun of California all the time because of the way we overreact to weather. I think this is legitimate. We don't often get severe weather of any kind, and truly not like places in the rest of the world. 

I'm not sure if the blame for overreaction should be placed on us native Californians, however. I think the blame is more righteously placed on the media and on people who have moved here from other places.

First, California weather media has a very hard job presenting a program that isn't totally boring. Even a small amount of rain or wind is pumped up and dramatized just because it's unusual. We who are natives tend to ignore this. But people who have moved here from places where weather can actually be very dangerous, and weathermen are actually not entertainers, are accustomed to taking things more seriously.

The problem is even worse when we have weathermen and ladies who are transplanted here from other places. If they've only been here for a couple of years, while we've been having a drought, they haven't even seen a typical local storm yet.

We who have been here a while understand full well what a Pineapple Express is. In 1987, I believe, I was working swing shift in a type shop by myself. It rained so hard one night, water started backing up in the drains and coming back into the building. I had to unplug all the electric equipment and put things on top of tables before I checked out and went home.

The trip home - about 15 miles - was very difficult. If I hadn't been driving a big pickup, I wouldn't have managed it because every little dip in the highway was full of water. At one of these places I could see the top of a Volkswagen floating away.

In Sloughhouse, Deer Creek quickly overflowed its banks and the levee was washed out in a couple of spots. Even so, nothing was harmed much, the creek is slightly downgrade from all the houses here, the valley seems flatter than it actually is and the early inhabits were wise.

The river can handle a lot of local rain. It's only a problem when there's a lot of rain up in the Sierras on a heavy snowpack. In 1987 it didn't rain on snow, as I recall, but there was a lot of rain in the foothills and that came roaring down our way a couple of days later. So, the creek had receded, the sun was shining, and we were watching the river rise. It's what you do when you live in SLOUGHhouse. As usual, the river rose until the levees broke downstream in Wilton, where the waterway is narrower, and then the water levels here started to recede.

Right now there is scarcely any snow in the Sierras. Could we have as heavy a rainstorm as we had in 1987? Maybe. Is it really a problem? Well, creeks could rise. Every time we have a drought, people manage to build houses where they shouldn't and some of those could be in trouble. (The next few days will be a great time for house hunters to check properties out for problems.) The low spots on the freeways could fill with water (why are the freeways built with low spots?), it could get windy and scary on the roadways, especially for people who don't generally even worry about replacing their windshield wipers because they don't have to use them very often.

The headlines have changed over the past week..."Worst storm in 9, 7, 5 Years." Okay, since we haven't had much of a storm in the past 10 years, even, that isn't saying much.

Schools are closed, people are staying home, eeek! Eeeeeek!!! Are the rest of you laughing at us yet?

I suppose it's still possible we'll have some problems, and it's probably better to be safe than sorry, and I see nothing wrong with kids staying home to play in the mud (this is a warm storm). 

But wouldn't it be nice to have news and weather without drama? Something you could actually count on to be truthful? Thank you Fox "News" for polluting the airways with your crappy influence.  

If today or tomorrow actually turns out to be a problem, I will happily eat my words. But we don't have hurricanes here, we don't have polar vortexes or whatever else the rest of the country goes through. It's mostly just old, boring California with really low reservoirs right now that can totally handle quite a bit of rainfall.

So please don't worry about us. Yet.

Time Capsule

When Bob was little, he really looked up to his cousin, Sarah. She was a star athlete, she was in school plays, she was smart and wonderful.

He can't physically look UP to her anymore, but she's still one of his favorite people.

Bob did all the cooking at Thanksgiving. He planned a small joke into the menu. When no one was looking, he took the turkey out of the oven and replaced it with a Cornish Game hen. Then, when all the rest of the food was on the table, he made a big show of taking the "turkey" out of the oven.

"Oh my God! It shrunk!" he said.

The joke didn't get a big response from Uncle Jerry, but it worked pretty well on Cousin Sarah.

Thanksgiving Kid Pix

"I want to take a picture of the three little ones in the family," I said. "Just put them on the couch together."

Grandma Nancy got Tommy on the couch, but he wouldn't wait for the other two.

"Just hang on, everybody, all we need is one picture."

Tessa hung onto Tommy. Grandma hung onto Charlie.

And it all went south from there.

Mom's Cake

Bob and Anna are cooking not one, but two, Thanksgiving dinners at my house this week. My only chore is to clean the house. Yuck. It's a TOTAL mess because I tore it apart looking for my glasses. I found them, under the last piece of furniture in the living room that I turned upside down.

I decided I needed to cook something, make some small contribution to the effort. So I did two things: I cooked and mashed the pumpkin for some pies and Anna's pumpkin cheesecake, and I made a Chocolate Chip Applesauce Cake.

This recipe is something my mom, Doris, used to make for my stepdad, Ben, to take to the mountains to the cow camp. It has the consistency of a fruit cake and travels very well. She liked to make it with mint flavored chocolate chips, but I haven't been able to find those for several years.

You can experiment with using different kind of chocolate for the 4 tablespoons - unsweetened baking chocolate, cocoa, or even melt some Hershey bars and use those. You can use different kinds of chips, and try different nuts and/or fruit. Don't make this cake unless you have lots of company, a little of it goes a long way.

When I read the Alexander McCall Smith books about the #1 Ladies Detective Agency in Botswana, this is the cake I imagine being served to visitors at the orphanage.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. The cats love this time of year because I bring home things like turkey gizzards from the store. Only for the outside cats, Wesley would take one and stuff it between the couch cushions, Gollie would eat the whole thing, walk two feet and erp it back up.

Meeting New Folks

It's sometimes hard to meet and talk to people at a poultry show.

First, it's a noisy place. The roosters are crowing and it's hard to hear. I deal with this by smiling and nodding and hoping that at some point in the conversation I'll hear a key word or two, catch up, and everything will make sense.

Second, people are busy taking care of their birds. They don't relax until they get back to their hotel rooms at night, where they are isolated from each other.

At the show in Sonora this past weekend, circumstances were favorable for overcoming these two obstacles. The hotel had its own restaurant with a welcoming staff and, instead of staying in their rooms, people were encouraged to hang out in the restaurant and talk, drink coffee, or eat dessert. If people were sitting in a big enough booth, they'd make room for you.

I not only got to spend time with old friends this way, but also to make some new ones. There were two exhibitors from Utah. I've seen them at shows before and had a lot of questions to ask about their trips. There were some 4-H people who I didn't know that are from the same county where I live. I found out a lot about them and the poultry activities they like. I also watched their family consume an absolutely huge strawberry crepe. It took up an entire plate, was filled with ice cream and covered with fresh strawberries and a mountain of whipped cream. The rest of us had fun teasing them about it. I think they enjoyed the attention.

I got to meet and talk to a couple of people that I'd seen at shows before, but had never met. It turns out they've been showing for 40 years. They had some interesting perspectives and observations.

It was a nice show, put on by a really small, overworked committee that did a great job. Sonora is only 90 minutes from my house, along Hwy. 49 through the gold country. It's more a scenic route than one you'd take to get somewhere quick, but I've been on it so many times since I was a little kid, it's familiar and comfortable. I didn't get any pictures for you. The road winds and there is no shoulder, so it's wise to keep both hands on the steering wheel. I can tell you, however, that the local plants have benefitted from recent storms. The live oaks seem refreshed, the grass is starting to sprout.

I believe this is what the Indians called "First Grass." It sprouts in the fall with the first rains, then just sort of hangs around and doesn't grow much. It's not that nutritious for grazing animals. In about February the grass takes a growing spurt. This is called "Second Grass." Last year, with very sparse rain, the grasses grew rapidly in the Second Grass stage, putting all their effort into setting seeds. So the pastures were short and sparse, and the countryside went from green to dry yellow almost overnight. Unlike other parts of the country, there are few perennial grasses here, they are all annual.

I took almost 20 birds to the show. It was a lot of work but the birds are starting to settle into the routine and aren't as difficult to handle or get ready. One of my cockerels was Best RCCL out of the 73 birds in the class.

My Ancona pullet was Best Mediterranean. That's 3 out of 3 for her! She was also Reserve Large Fowl of the Show. I don't have a photo of her. She doesn't get much respect, does she? I'm hoping someday I'll get a copy of the nice win photo that was taken at the Fallon show.

This week is Thanksgiving, for those of you readers who don't live in the U.S. Bob is cooking one dinner here on Thursday and another here on Friday. He bought two turkeys and all the stuff that goes with them. My simple job is to clean house. Yuck. Last night I built a fire in the woodstove and messed around in the living room trying to clean a little. I sat on the couch for a minute, though, and fell asleep. It was midnight when I woke up and went to bed.

My glasses got lost somewhere in this process. I probably took them off and set them on the nearby footstool, then Wesley came along, stole them, and hid them somewhere. I'm still looking for them. I have torn apart the couch (it's still on its back with its feet in the air). Then I decided I should move the furniture in the living room as long as I was going to clean. Not a good job for one old crimpled lady to try by herself. Like I said, the couch is still on its back. I haven't decided if I should leave things the way they are and say the house is messy because I couldn't find my glasses and couldn't see the dirt. Or if I should just pretend it's fine because I really canNOT see the dirt, so who cares?

There is a small chance that I just put the glasses down somewhere unusual and because I don't have them, I can't see them. I seem to do things like that more and more. I keep expecting to hear them crunch under my feet.

In the meantime, the cat is once again in the dog house.

Tired of Feeling Guilty

I have donated to SPCA, and along the way my email address seems to have been shared with everyone who is looking for a share of animal and do-good money. At the same time, a couple of the Facebook pages I follow have been turned into places where people take the opportunity to "get rid of" their unwanted animals.

First, there are the people who go to shelters and "adopt" dogs, mostly pitbulls, just hours before they're euthanized. This would be okay, but then they turn around and post pictures and beg for someone else to take the dogs and give them a "furever home." I think, "You mean, unlike the temporary one you are providing?"

Here's another one: "Free kitty, 6 weeks old, my older cat doesn't like her." And I think, "Then why do you have her in the first place? How did you end up with her, did one of your unspayed cats give birth to her? Did you take her thinking she was cute and now your older cat is pissing on things? And how can you have had a 6 week old kitten long enough to know these things?"

Also, because I've stuck with Wesley through all the bad times, I look down my nose at people who can't be bothered to try to make things work. Yes, that's self-righteous. Too bad.

This week there was a woman giving away a small dog she'd had for 6 years because now that she has a baby she doesn't have time to spend with the dog.

There was a grandmother trying to give away a one year old pitbull mix (she was calling it Lab and Border Collie) that was proving to be too big for her two year old grandchild. (No duh, dipshit.)

And finally, there is a woman trying to give away her father's 4 year old chihuahua mix because her mother died and her father can't deal with pee pads all over anymore.

None of these people see anything wrong with what they're doing. They'll say, "If I can't find a really good home (I read this as "with a better, more responsible person than I am") I will have to take it to a shelter."

On both sides of my family there are animal lovers. The kind that, when they take on an animal, make a commitment for the rest of its life. We don't always have animals if there's something else going on in our lives that will prevent us from making that commitment. We understand and practice responsibility.

I'm getting so tired of the buttheads who can't see that their problems are not resulting from people like us who aren't responding to their pleas, but with themselves. Why do we need to feel guilty? I keep asking myself that, and unfriending people and pages on Facebook that make me nuts.