May is the cruelest month…for housesitters.

With all due respect for T.S. Eliot, he had it all wrong. Yes, he murmured eloquently of lilacs and hyacinths, but little did he know the cruelty he escaped by not having to house-sit for us in the month of May.

(This brings up an interesting concept – if you could pick a historical celebrity to house-sit for you, who would it be?)

Friend Lori and her kids Bryson, Lauren and Chadd somehow convinced us that there was nothing they would rather do than spend half a month with our menagerie.  Undaunted by the “walk-through” whereby she learned that several hours a day are spent administering to various animals’ health, well-being and grooming rituals, Lori promptly sent me an Excel document with various tabs to reflect the daily goings-on. I should have known right there and then that she was bringing her A game.

Chadd and Lori

How do we get so lucky with our housesitters? Yes, there has been the occasional bad experience like the one several decades ago when I enlisted a former work acquaintance to stay a weekend with our cat (this was before we started the pet collection) and he took the opportunity to host a wild (and I suspect, drug-fueled) party, leaving the sordid detritus for us to discover upon our return.  But more recently we’ve had Dave (who has actually been known to rake a carpet after vacuuming!) and Karen (patience of Job!) , Pamela (the chicken lady alter-ego!) and Kirk (who hates cats but allowed mine to sleep with him for two weeks, go figure!) and now Lori and her kids, who, by all accounts, kept the place running like a Swiss watch, despite the animals’ efforts to trip her up.

As far as we know, Lori never sat down. She walked the dogs multiple times a day, herded chickens for hours at a time, created systems all over the house, re-arranged drawers and catered to the whims of each evil feline in residence. How did the evil cats thank her? By leaving the severed head of a captured bird on the shower mat. Nice. Doesn’t it make you want to run over and house-sit for us?

Chadd has some quality time with Chloe and Dizzy (photo by Lori)

Then there was the dead crow out front and the dead mouse in the chicken yard. Lovely touch, don’t you think? T.S. Eliot would have had to channel Edgar Allen Poe if he’d written The Wasteland at our house.

And for reasons that remain hidden in their tiny dinosaur brains, the chickens caused all kinds of trouble. Hope went broody on the eve of our departure, but little did she know she was up against Lori, the steely Chicken Behavior Modificator. Despite our best efforts a year ago, Hope remained broody for two months until we finally sated her with baby chicks. This time, Lori had Hope whipped back into shape and laying eggs again in a couple of weeks.

Pippa was another matter, however. Due to a disturbance in the force, or perhaps just more mean-girl activity on the nest, Pippa decided she would no longer lay her eggs in the designated nesting place. I guess you at least have to give her props for ingenuity:

A drop in the bucket: this is where Pippa laid while we were gone! (photo by Lori)

We’ll probably never know all the problems our fearless friends fended off in our absence, but we are ever so grateful and eternally indebted. Thank you all so much!

We liked it better when you were here! Please come back! (photo by Lori)

“Somehow, I’ll find a way to be happy even though my masters are amateurs…”(photo by Lori)

Columbia U. Graduation, Part II: Commencement

Columbia’s university-wide Commencement ceremony brought together the 5,667 undergraduates of Columbia College, SEAS  and Barnard College as well as those receiving advanced degrees. It was a sea of blue!

Can you see Daniel? (image from columbia.edu)

The weather initially threatened a sea of rain like the day before, but instead opted for a menu of muggy which was only intensified in the crush of 30,000 attendees all jostling for space. Welcome to New York!

Angie and Chris joined us and Taylor came up from WDC for the briefest of visits. Thanks for braving the crowds and the humidity, guys!

Our cheering section! Taylor, Angie, Chris and the CE

After an impressive array of awards and honorary degrees were presented, the business agenda of the Commencement ceremony called for the Deans of the respective departments to “beg” the college president to confer diplomas upon the graduation candidates. This was done with much humor and bravado, thankfully, because it takes a very long time to hear eighteen different supplicants plead the cause of their students.

The Columbia U. MBA candidates help plead their cause at Commencement

In his keynote address, University President Lee C. Bollinger gave the graduates one particularly stirring bit of advice, which was to say “If you ever feel disconnected from a higher purpose, you must have the courage to change your life”.

CU president Lee C. Bollinger in 2010 (image from article.wn.com)

Looking back over Daniel’s childhood, there are so many people who have strived to keep him connected to a higher purpose, and I am grateful to all of them. He has always been uplifted by his family – his grandmother, who keeps him well-supplied with sweet rolls; his brother who has served, often without knowing it, as a role model; his sisters, who have doted upon him from near and afar; aunts and uncle whose encouragement is present even when they can’t be.

Brothers!

Then there are the friends who have been Daniel’s extended family – Dave, Pamela, Kirk and almost-sisters, Alexandra and Victoria. There are the angels who helped us with the day-to-day and cheered Daniel along from elementary school through high school:  Jessica, Holly, Carly, Liz,  Julia and Teri. And the mentors along the way: Mrs. Morgan and the teachers at El Montecito Early School; swim coach Ira Klein; and Laguna Blanca teachers like Dr. Schmidt and Magistra, who shaped Daniel’s love of literature and the Classics. And Daniel’s legions of friends, who are too numerous to list, but long-time pals Hannah, Christian, Michele, Valerie,  Giulie and Cory come to mind as do Columbia friends Chris, Jeff, Peter, Mary, Christina, Fan, Tiffany…the list goes on and on.

Daniel’s graduation lunch: Tiffany, Fan, Daniel, Chris, Mary and Giulie

Of course, Daniel’s list might be different from mine, and the danger of listing anyone is to forget someone, but I know all these people  - and more – have cared for Daniel through the years and helped make him the focused, grounded, impressive young man that he is today.

My wish for him as he leaves the classroom and enters the “real” world is to arm himself with the knowledge he has gained at CU; the encouragement of his teachers and mentors; the well-wishes of his family and friends; the unconditional love of his parents and the wisdom of Matthew 22:36-40. Look out world, here he comes!

Proud dad and the graduate

“…If I can make it there,

You know I’m gonna make it just about anywhere

Come on, come through

New York, New York…”

Every Dog Has Its Day.

And Saturday belonged to Soho.

I don’t even remember how the tradition got started, but somehow, Soho has managed to throw herself an every-other-year party and a few of her BFF’s braved the fog to help her celebrate her eighth birthday.  Here are some pix:

Diva pink accents were the order of the day.

Q: "Was our invitation lost in the mail?"
A. No, but a number of them actually were! I thought people weren't RSVPing but some of you never got your invites due to fussy USPO envelope regulations. So sorry!

PJG and her friend Marilee

Kirstie prettified Soho and Chloe for the big day and then arrived quite prettified herself.

Watermelon gazpacho! Our caterer, Tammy, outdid herself yet again.

Surf in the turf

Someone else's chickens gave to this cause: deviled egg bar

Katherine greets the birthday girl

Chloe welcomes Bonnie and Jeff

Victoria, Yoni and Missy the Tart

Soho called the doctor. She loves Kirk!

Pamela, Andy and Alexandra

Bonnie, Susie and the fog lurking in the background. Welcome to So Cal!

John, Marie-Christine, and our other birthday girl, Ashleigh

Soho and Julia

All-grown-up Chadd and Lori

Baby Mia! She's just two weeks old and ours was her very first party. Lucky us!

The MRC brain trust. These guys made it happen: Rich, John, Scot and the CE

Cast and characters: Roger, Lynn, Mary Lou and one-armed Marsha

Missy the Tart in her new birthday dress. She had a great day!

The Glam Life

I’m very happy to be back home in CA, but the city life it most definitely is not.

Take this morning, for example. The chicken coop was especially messy and I was up to my elbows in bleach and pine shavings when several of the hens decided to “help” me clean. Each time I set a section of the counter top right, Tulip or Coco or Hope started kicking and scratching and pretty soon I had to start over.

They're not as angelic as they appear!

And then Tulip turned her back to me and I noticed a bigger problem. Her backside was covered with clumps and clumps of, well, you know what. Many flock keepers call their hens “fluffy butts” and the fluffier the butt, the greater the possibility of, shall we say, hygenic issues. Tulip has a very, very fluffy butt.

"If you look at me from the right angle, everything is just fine!"

I grabbed the protesting Tulip and held her under one arm like a bowling ball while I searched out a plastic container and filled it with warm water. Yes, I was wearing gloves – I’m not completely crazy.  She honked at me like an angry goose, but ten or fifteen minutes and several rinsings later, Tulip’s backside was a much prettier sight, while I was soaked and probably should have just committed myself to the compost pile. If you would have told me I was full of s*** at that particular moment, I would have had to completely agree.

Looking much better!

My thanks from Tulip for all the trouble was a fierce wing flap to the face when we were finished. But I did check with other folks at backyardchickens.com and found that this is a fairly common state of affairs, especially in inclement weather. One person even volunteered that she has “spa days” for her hens where their hindquarters are bathed and then blow-dried! Now that sounds like a perfect life!

We took friends Pamela and Kirk out for dinner last night to thank them for holding down the zoo – er, fort – while we were away.  They managed to find humor in the situation: Kirk was on cat box duty and said he ”raked them to look like Zen gardens” and Pamela said they adopted a “see a cat, feed a cat” motto that seemed to work out fairly well.

"How about 'see me, feed me TWICE'?

They trailed chickens around and chased hawks away. Dogs were walked. Gaggles of animals joined them for sleeping.

Who's the chicken lady now?

And as I heard all this played back and realized oh my gosh, this is my life they’re mirroring back to me, it occurred to me that it’s probably time to get one. A life, that is. And then I realized – it’s too late. What’s done is done; these animals are all here to stay for awhile. But I also noticed when we returned from NYC this time that Chloe is starting to show some white around her muzzle; “awhile” is not forever.

Please don't get old, Chloe!

We free-ranged the chickens this afternoon and took a walk with the dogs. Tonight we’ll read with various cats snuggled up next to us while the logs crackle in the fireplace. It might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but somehow it seems to work for us. And as long as we have dear friends like Pamela and Kirk and Dave and Karen and Ashleigh and Paul who are crazy enough kind enough to pinch hit while we get our city fix,  all will be well. Just know that I won’t ask any of them to wash chicken heinies…

"Would you guys please go back to NYC so we can have the A team here again?"

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pamela and Kirk!

We fly the coop; no one blinks

When the suitcases come out, Soho retreats to the closet and our guilt index goes up, up, up. How could we abandon our pets like this?

So before we left for our latest NYC visit, we amassed a novel’s worth of care and feeding instructions for all the animals. Our friends Pamela and Kirk are virtually godparents to all our critters, but they had never been charged with the day-to-day tasks of keeping two dogs, four cats and six chickens (Birdie is on holiday at PG’s – thank you, thank you!) sated and happy at all times. When they volunteered to house-sit, we said “Are you sure???”

We wrung our hands a bit. When you’re writing notes that say “Don’t forget Dodger and Cody’s Prozac” and “the chickens do like to be tucked in at night”, it gives cause for pause.  Who lives like this?

Well, for the moment, THEY do! While we’ve been frolicking in the big city, I’ve received a number of reassuring messages that indicate all is well back on the farm. And Soho is most definitely not moping in the closet.

Little Miss in a post-grooming pose

In fact, not only are all critters happy and accounted for, they have completely forgotten us. Here is a photo of some of the defectors lining up to greet Kirk as he comes home from work:

Traitors! All of them!

Oh, and did I mention that up until last week, Kirk was not a cat lover?

Dizzy does it again. Kirk has fallen under the Diz spell.

I’ll fill you all in with a NYC update as soon as I come to grips with the fact that man’s best friends are as fickle as they come!

One less chicken; life goes on.

I was in LA one night recently and took Victoria out for a belated birthday dinner. Have you ever been to Mastro’s? It is probably not on Weight Watcher’s preferred list of restaurants, if they even have such a thing. Mastro’s would probably bill themselves as a steak and seafood restaurant, but in truth, they are a calorie restaurant. Calories, calories and more calories. If you’re in search of calories, Mastro’s is your place. I’m guessing even the ice water has a gazillion calories.

Is this what you think it is? YES!

We ordered steaks and then shared sides and the famous (infamous) Mastro’s Butter Cake, which is accompanied by a cast iron platter of whipped cream. Enough for a party of, say, twelve. We each took home lots of leftovers.

Happy caloric birthday, Victoria!

After that bacchanal, the wine-tasting excursion with Pollo Amiga and Alexandra last weekend seemed downright sedate.

Salud!

It could not have been a more beautiful day up in the Santa Ynez Valley, and we began our visit with a tasting at Zaca Mesa winery, where I picked up some very nice 2008 estate-grown Syrah. Then we had lunch at Los Olivos Cafe. which is always a treat, and stopped by another winery before heading home.

All of this is by way of NOT talking about chickens in the aftermath of losing Autumn. Thanks to all for the many kind expressions of sympathy over her loss. Cathy, who, along with Kirstie, is responsible for Soho and Chloe’s beautification rituals, surprised me one day with this little movie she took of Hope and Autumn in happier days. Such a nice memento to have, and you can see what I mean about Autumn being a “people person”.

_The_Chickens_Movie

►

I think of Autumn often, and especially when I do the head count, which is several times a day. Five, six…and then I am reminded there is no longer a seventh. The flock, however, seems to have adjusted to Autumn’s departure. Hope’s new right-hand hen is Tulip, and the two of them have taken a few walkabouts on their own, presumably to gossip about the shortcomings of the other four. One day I found them sun-bathing in a dirt patch near the pool; another day they were swapping secrets over on the courtyard. They have a lot to talk about!

Second in command?

And, wonder of wonders, Coco has decided to lay eggs again. After three months of nada, we are getting lovely light-green eggs from her again Maybe she has a Winter Break written into her contract?

With more laying activity, we get the occasional gridlock in the nesting box:

"But she's sitting on MY egg!"

Indeed she is. There's Lucy's egg, Coco's egg and a few golf balls for good measure.

The end justifies the means!

Everyone is now laying except for Hope and Luna. Hope gets a pass – she’s two-and-a-half, just finished molting and lost her sister. Luna, what in the name of all that fuzz between your ears is your excuse?

Uhhhhh, just a minute, I'm thinking of an answer...

Nice nest!

We received a very special invitation from our favorite elves, Julia and Grant. Yes, those elves, the ones who spend their Thanksgiving weekend each year putting up all our Christmas decorations for us while we’re in NYC so that we get to come home to a perfectly decorated house. Very special friends, indeed!

The happy couple had their wedding at our house August, 2009

While they were decking our halls for us over this past Thanksgiving holiday, they were also watching the local real estate market and came across a great house at a great price. Faster than you can say quick escrow, they were moved in. In just over a month, their house has become a lovely home, and last night they had us over for dinner.

Curb appeal! They're on a quiet street with a little peek of the ocean.

The dining room

Janx held captive for a nano-second

Hanging out on the side yard while Grant barbecues

Jasper gives us the side-eye

We loved getting to see their cozy new nest!

Hoo-roo to Dave and Karen!

Instead of G’day Mate, it’s Bon Voyage to Dave and Karen, who are happy as a box of birds to be headed Down Under for several months. This will be bonzer for them as they’ll get to lob-in and chin-wag with daughters and sons-in-law Jen and Vince, Lynnette and Brad and the nine grandkids they have in Oz.

That's a lot of ground for your Ugg boots to cover! (image from nationalgeographic.com)

But, by jingoes,  they are in the cactus with Chloe and Soho, who are spitting the dummy at the thought of their favorite housesitters heading for Bulla Manka.

These two have their knickers in a knot!

The rest of us are more or less resigned to seeing them head off to the Lucky Country since we’re pretty certain we’ve got Buckley’s Chance of changing their minds about going off  to the land of joeys and the Bushman’s Clock. So instead of flogging the cat we decided to make the best of it and put some shrimp on the barbie in their honor. Twice, since they’re so special!

Karen had the seat of honor at going-away dinner #1. She's wondering when she'll ever have time to pack!

PG announced that Dave is her "third son". Markie, meet your new bro!

Lynn and Dave W. enjoying a chat.

Dave W., me and Roger

Lovely Helene and the CE

The CE’s sister, Gail, arrived for a holiday visit with bf Paul and her famous pesto in tow (the word is, you can get it past the TSA agents as long as it’s frozen solid…good to know!) so we gathered again last night:

PG hosted the group, which included her Canadian snow bird friend, Rachel.

Paul and Karen

PG and pesto queen, Gail

Well, I guess they could be brothers: the CE and Dave

Yes, of course the dogs were invited! Gail with Miss Tart.

A few members of PG's festive Santa collection.

The travelers are soon off to celebrate their first wedding anniversary in Hawaii and will then shoot on through to the Great Southern Land.  We wish you well from the Coathanger to Brizzie and we have no doubt you’ll return to us fair dinkum Aussies!

Bring us back a kangaroo for our menagerie! (image from immigration2australia.com)

First Things Last. Happy Belated!

Very tardy to the party here but it’s never too late to wish the CE a Happy Semi-Major Birthday, is it?

(We won’t discuss numbers, but let’s just say there have been a flurry of calls to the Social Security Administration in the past few weeks.)

We celebrated with Dave and Karen, who surprised the birthday boy with an epicurean feast and tickets to see a group we’d never heard of but will now never forget!

A toast to the birthday boy!

Karen prepared dinner and ensconced herself right up there with some talented French chefs we know.

We are obsessed with this Swedish Apple Cake that is a tradition in Karen's family. I hope she'll share the recipe with us!

After dinner, we went to a sold-out performance for the Portland so-out-they’re-in group Pink Martini. Big band brass with a hipster twist. And the CE’s favorite twist of the evening was the indomitable, inimitable Ms. Storm Large. There is really no describing this tall drink of talent, although her name, which is her own and not a stage name, sums it up pretty well. She is, without a doubt, a force of nature! You’ve got to see her to believe her:

The CE could not be convinced to join the conga line but it was still a great evening and a memorable way to turn a year older. Happy bday, CE!

PG knows how old he is, but she's not saying.

Goodnight Irene; Aloha, Maui!

Smoothest Hawaii trip ever for the CE and me  - until we arrived and learned that Hurricane Irene would be knocking on East Coasters’ doors over the weekend. Taylor, who hasn’t had a vacation in a long, long time, was scheduled to fly out of Dulles Saturday afternoon to join us. According to the news reports, that would be just about the time WDC would be getting a big dose of Irene.

The stately entrance to the Four Seasons Maui at Wailea

Some airlines began canceling their Saturday flights as early as Thursday afternoon, so we unpacked our bags and went to work on a re-route that would get Taylor here ahead of the storm. He was all set on a flight out of Dulles to LA after work on Friday.

Until it was delayed.

And delayed.

You know how that goes. On the plane. Off the plane. Waiting in Sticky-Vinyl-Airport-Gate-Chair Limbo.

Luckily, a different plane arrived at a different gate and our Maui-bound passenger was back in business. After all, he’d dealt with an earthquake earlier in the week – no need to top it off with a hurricane.

After spending what was left of that night in LA,Taylor arrived at the airport to board his Maui flight – which was…you guessed it…delayed. Instead of sipping Mai-Tais by the pool, the CE and I were madly refreshing the United Airlines flight status screen on our phones every five minutes.

All’s well that ends well, however. Taylor eventually arrived, as did his friend, Easton. Irene, as it turns out, was the no-show, as our East coast informants thought it much ado about nothing. We may be having more wind on south Maui than anyone in NYC. It’s breezy here. No, we are not complaining. The vacation is on!

Surf's up!

Twins separated at birth?

Beach at Wailea, Maui