Skip to main content

A Long Walk Uphill

I've noticed something—when you stop posting to your blog, people stop visiting. I've taken the week off from my spot in Blogville, and the doorbell has hardly rung while I am away. That's OK, though, because most of my visitors don't leave comments anyway.

This week, I am back in Berkeley, California spending some time with No. 1. Here is poor Tiger the cat sitting and pathetically staring at my empty chair back home, the photo thoughtfully sent to me by Husband—I'm not sure what Tiger is thinking at the moment, but I suspect Husband is thinking, "She's not here, you stupid idiot."

This was a spur of the moment trip, which I can take because I have become a woman of leisure. Small Town Newspaper hardly uses freelance writers anymore because their budget has shrunk to the size of a coin purse, and the ESL class is winding down (that's another story all together). So, I find myself looking for things to do, like learning Chopin on the piano and learning web design on the computer.

At the moment, I'm learning to relax and not feel bad about not having regular 9 to 5 activity. I don't know why I would feel bad about that. It's not like I'm lazy from 9 to 5. It's just ingrained, I guess.

This week, while No. 1 is on campus, I am busy doing things in the apartment. I have cleaned every surface that can be cleaned, and I've made a small project out of fixing up the balcony. There is a lovely hammock chair out there and two small black metal chairs. I have added a small black metal table, a giant candle holder in a basket, some outdoor art on the wood wall and a string of outdoorsy lights above the door. The kid hasn't seen it yet, so it's possible she'll hate it.

I've also bought groceries, fixed the vacuum cleaner, pet the cat and had the oil changed in the car. And we took a long walk. No. 1 likes to walk, so she dragged me practically kicking and screaming on a 20-minute, up-hill-all-the-way walk. Seriously, I said, "Fine, just don't complain if I whine." And she said, "Then don't whine."

We weren't just walking to walk because we had a destination—Indian Rock Park in North Berkeley. It's a giant boulder that some people make a point of climbing, but there are actually carved steps you can just walk up. Notice the woman sitting on the top of the rock for scale. When you get up there, this is what you see, the San Francisco Bay, and on a clear day, the Golden Gate Bridge:

And here is No. 1 saying, "Would stop taking pictures of me, already?" No. I can't help it.

On the way back, we saw this exchange between a cat and a squirrel. It went on for quite a while with neither animal giving up his space (click the photo to enlarge for a better view).

We live and we learn and we blog and we stop blogging for a while. Maybe my door bell will start ringing again, or maybe Blogville has discovered taking a walk might be more interesting than blog hopping. Either way, it's time to go learn something—for now, it's how to make vegetarian tacos.

Comments

savannah said…
try chopped/sliced portobello mushrooms in the tacos, sugar! delish! cook them with chopped onions, red pepper flakes and the same seasonings you'd use with ground beef. they're my go to veggie for all things vegetarian. xoxoxo
8:23 PM
dive said…
Yay No.1 for walking you part way up the hill, Robyn!
Now you've started, you've got to keep it up. Grizzly Park Boulevard awaits (though you're officially allowed to whine if she makes you trek up there).
Love the cat and squirrel picture. Too funny. And poor Tiger wondering why your chair is empty.
Have a wonderful time out there on the Bay.
2:54 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...
16 comments
Read more

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...
18 comments
Read more

A New Ride

I have a new car. I have a new car. I have a new car. I traded in my big-ass Pacifica for a Camry Hybrid. It's pretty. See? It has keyless ignition (which seems to serve no purpose but to keep you from having to put the key in the ignition). It has heated seats. It has dual climate control. It has a talking map with little flags to represent the location of restaurant--for example, Bob Evans is marked with an American flag, and a pizza shop is marked with an Italian flag. It has a sunroof which I will never open because the passing wind sucks out my ears. It also has Sirius radio, and so now I have my very own Broadway channel and the Amaazing Seth Rudestsky. I think Seth and I are going to become good friends. Cars don't bring happiness, but this one brings show tunes.
13 comments
Read more