This is a drawing from a story that takes place around the Baltic Sea for a new book of travel stories that I hope to publish next year. The frying pan is a guild-like advertisement for a restaurant in the city of Tallinn.
My book Hey Roberto Hu is now available as a hardcover book for those readers that prefer hardcover books.
It is comforting to see normal March weather for California again after the bone-dry months of January and February. Thank God we got some rain in the fall. What is typical beginning of March weather you ask? Green hills, yellow mustard blooming profusely on said same hills, many fruit trees professing their white, magenta, and pink blossoms. Most of all though it the sudden change of weather, where dark clouds pushed by a brisk wind arrive quickly, empty themselves of rain, only to give way to puffy white clouds with a blue sky and sunshine behind them. This frequent exchange of clouds delights our spring, and it is advisable for the nature enthusiast to carry an umbrella.
The first flower of an Iceland poppy I planted in a pot came up about a week ago. This particular one was a bright yellow-orange and radiated color. Sadly it has already lost it’s petals now due a merciless wind coming off the mountain. We are also supposed to get some more rain tomorrow, perhaps even a storm – or atmospheric river – the current buzzword favored by the meteorologists. We shall see. Rain here equals snow in the Sierras, so a win-win for this time of year, except for my poppy.
Having picked up an almond croissant from the bakery – a café au lait was already in my possession – I drove down to the pier in Benicia to look at the water and and enjoy the aforementioned items. The wind whipping outside, I thought it wise to remain in the car with the window cracked a bit to take advantage of the fresh air, and at the same time protecting my croissant from many hungry eyes and beaks outside. Indeed, the pier is frequented by a multitude of pigeons, flocks of seagulls, ducks, ravens, and sparrows, all hoping for something to eat with minimal effort. I have even seen pelicans on a small island nearby. Numerous signs advise not to feed the feathered pier dwellers – much to the annoyance of the birds no doubt.
There – that was one tasty croissant, and I even managed not to make a mess in the car. Taking a stroll along the pier I notice a woman dumping something on the ground. Unclear of what it might be, the question answers itself a moment later, when a mad rush among all things feathered erupts to eat what I presume is bird seed. Birds and humans unable or unwilling to read the sign make for this frenzied spectacle. It is over in a matter of minutes, with the last ones to hang out being the pigeons, in making sure not a single seed is left behind. I do hope your next meal will have more of a slow food pace to it, somewhat less competition, and with perhaps some better table manners too.
Have a blessed weekend
The wind is whipping over the mountain, and the oaks are ducking as much as a tree can duck. Sheets of rain are cascading down. It is dark now. My cat Calvin was not at all pleased to take a walk on his leash today, although he managed to chew some fresh green grass that has sprouted over the past few weeks on the way back. The hills are shimmering again. The command of “wait, I have to wipe your feet” he hears from his caretaker before entering the door is completely ignored in the rush to evade the rain, so I have to grab him before those little footprints get everywhere. It’s like having a kid, although probably not too many kids stop on a walk to chew grass.
I had to mail a package today and the frenetic pace on the roads does not exemplify what the Christmas season should be about, so I was glad to get back home. I had to think again how much more pleasant the driving in Oregon is when I visit part of my family than here in the Bay Area. Yet even here it could be so simple if everyone did their part to contribute to civility.
The highlight of my evenings the past few weeks has been to light the Advent candles before going to bed and to listen to Christmas hymns. Thank you God for the peace that comes. Often my cat will come and sit on my knee, silently watching the candles too.
I have decorated some of the vegetation outside with simple strings of white lights and they lend such a glow to the dark evenings. I am rather happy to say that Calvin has learned the words “Christmas lights” – I have a very, very smart cat.
Have a blessed Advent season as we wait for the coming of Christ.
Knocking over three quarters of a pint of heavy cream with it splattering everywhere on your kitchen floor (accompanied by colorful language I normally don’t use), is a major mishap. Having half of the contents land on your cat below who then dashes off in a panic is an UNMITIGATED DISASTER.
It was that time of year last week, time to get a flu shot. When the California sun is smiling brightly it is hard to think about such matters, but when you are sniffling under a blanket in January, you wish you had paid attention.
Having obtained a prescription refill a week earlier it came to my attention via a poster on the freezer door next to the pharmacy counter that recipients of a flu shot would be entitled to a free scoop of ice cream. Now that is an incentive! Thus, almost giddy when it was time, I filled out my paperwork and waited in line to get poked. There was one person ahead of me who got his flu shot and he yelled out ouch before he got poked – apparently an attempt at humor – which was warily acknowledged by the pharmacist. My turn. “right or left arm”? “The left please”. It was an ouch moment, but I kept silent. “would you like a band-air”? “Yes please, and where and what kind of scoop of ice cream may I get”? “Sorry – no ice cream, but you can take a bottle of free hand sanitizer from the counter”. Imagine my shock and disappointment. Hand sanitizer? Practical perhaps, but certainly not the same. False advertising came to mind, “bait and switch” tactics, things, one does not expect at a pharmacy. Sigh – hand sanitizer it is then, as I reach down and grab a small bottle, sadly slinking towards the exit door.
Is there a happy ending to this preposterous misrepresentation luring unsuspecting ice cream aficionados into a pharmacy only to get poked and sanitized you ask? There is – a self-service pint of ice cream from the freezer that night, including whipped cream and a maraschino cherry on top in order to recover from the afternoon shock.
I think my cutting board loves me.
It was my turn to fix dinner yesterday. I had procured some rockfish for only $6.99 a pound, that may have been strategically placed next to the $29.99 a pound halibut. A simple budgetary decision. Seeing the rockfish, I remembered a recipe I have probably not made in over a decade. It’s an easy and tasty recipe I found at a fish counter or in a magazine – I don’t recall. All the vegetables as well as the potatoes (except for a red bell pepper) were readily available in Patrick and Hannah’s garden and basement respectively, so my shopping list was of a short nature.
Mushrooms, the aforementioned red bell pepper, and zucchini seasoned and sautéed in olive oil, mashed potatoes, a butter and orange cream sauce – all complementing the fish which I baked in foil.
As we started to eat, I noticed that our napkins were missing, so I got up, turned around, and grabbed a few paper towels from the paper towel roll holder and tore them into three sheets to use as a substitute. Now I’m guessing I may have been a bit fatigued from cooking as I handed them out automatically, first one to Hannah, then one to Patrick, and a third to my cat Calvin who was sitting upright on the couch next to the dining table. I then caught myself retracting the paper towel for recipient number three and started to laugh as did everyone else. If I may interpret the surprised look on my cat’s face, it may well have been a response of “rather kind of you, but I don’t think I will be needing one of those”.
I am happy to announce my third published book. It has been a long time in the making and has finally seen the light of day. Hey, Roberto Hu is a collection of travel stories: the primary one takes place in Venezuela, with further explorations of California and the Pacific Northwest. The author’s cat Calvin dispenses his two cents worth in the introduction.
Memorial Day. As the sun is setting and I see the silhouettes of the dry oak trees, I am grateful for the quiet day. It was almost 100 F. today and a good day to stay inside with the AC on. I wish I could have been with family to have a BBQ, but they are far away. Sigh. Well, at least I was somewhat productive in tending to the cleaning of the shower, kitchen sink, and restroom. Sheer excitement you say no doubt. As I briefly perused the news earlier, I saw the honor and respect President Biden paid to the people in whose honor and memory this day is. I was also grateful to see that in Texas injustice did not prevail, but rather that it was defeated. I have high hopes that liberty, justice for all, and freedom will once again become the fabric of what this country was meant to be.
Sitting in a lawn chair this evening under the hummingbird feeder, one of these tiny lovely birds suddenly appeared out of nowhere, despite the fact that my cat Calvin was on my lap, and after briefly inspecting the feeder, started chattering at me. I do believe his or her exact words may have been: “hello, it’s a hot day and I’m thirsty – however this feeder does need some attention”. Thus, after placing Calvin inside, I took down the feeder and brought it to my now sparkling clean kitchen sink. Indeed, after opening the feeder a musky smell greeted me. I wouldn’t want to drink from that either. A cleaning was most definitely in order.
Hanging the freshly cleaned and refilled feeder back on it’s hook, I sat back down in my chair once again with Calvin on my lap, and we enjoyed the twilight again. What do you know, the sound of fast beating hummingbird wings could be heard and then my little friend appeared directly above me and flew straight to the feeder to drink – quite a few sips too I might add. He or she then flew over to me, chirped briefly, and flew off into the evening sky. I do believe it was a thank you.
A watercolor from my upcoming book “Hey Roberto Hu”.
I think it is safe to say that most people will be more than happy to leave this last year behind. The unexpected pandemic, the wildfires here in the West, other natural disasters around the globe, hunger, poverty, injustice.
The shelter in place implemented in March led to some unexpected experiences. Almost car-less streets, fresh air, families spending time at home and with each other, leaving behind the frenetic pace and wrong priorities for a while. There were lots of positives and things to be learned or re-learned.
Now with a vaccine on the horizon, and finally a decent man to lead our country again after the catastrophic last four years and the hope that “build back better” will indeed be what lies ahead. The potential is there to do good and to set a high standard and correct the wrongs that have plagued especially this country for so so long. Our wonderful President Obama set the bar real high and pointed the US in the right direction while making sure this country was part of the world community. This was and is so vitally important.
The hardship of the holidays without being together with loved ones, children being unable to go to school, overworked caregivers. Yes, the last year is best left behind.
On a personal note, I hope to finally publish my so oft delayed next book. I certainly have had time to write and draw a bit this past year.
May 2021 be a year of healing, learning, and making the world better in all regards. It starts with every one of us.
Coming Spring 2021:
Hey Roberto Hu: Travels in Venezuela and other stories.
Fun and good times at the supermarket: Out of eggs, I’m in line at Grocery Outlet with a carton of fresh brown “cage-free” eggs. In front of me are several hispanic laborers who are also purchasing just a few items. I see cookies in front of the divider and ask them, “are those good”? They grin at me: “good with coffee”. I ask the person behind me to hold my place in line and walk to the aisle that I’m directed to, to pick up a pack of the cookies. Wow, only two bucks! A bargain to be sampled in the morning. Thanks! The cashier who I have not seen before in the the short time that I have been visiting here in Portland, is a bit on the slow side – which perhaps may be because he is engaging in extended conversations with his customers. He asks one of the hispanic laborers what his name is and is told “German” in a thick accent. He responds “mine is Jeremy”, to which I retort: and I’m originally from Germany. What do you know: Three Germans! He looks at me for a bit and then asks, “really”? Then, before I can answer him he tells me “Ich bin unsichtbar” in a ridiculous American accent that is barely understandable. I start laughing, as what he has said is “I’m invisible”. I look at him and ask him “invisible, huh? I bet that comes in real handy when hiding from the boss”. He looks back at me and says” oh you understood what I said? “Barely”, I grin. He hands a receipt to the laborers and asks me what the word for that is. “Quittung”, I tell him although in hindsight it is probably “Kassenbon”. Oh, that’s interesting he replies, slowly counting out my change. “Can we do the language lessons some other time”? a lady two people behind me grumbles, as I have to laugh again, and depart with my eggs.
Walking under the canopy of an ancient olive tree that is whispering its blossoms on the dry parched ground around its gnarled trunk, and feeling a bit sluggish this morning, I wander into the park’s restroom. As I enter the doorway, a buzzing sound is audible coming from the right side. Attached to the doorframe of the supply closet I see what appears to be an awkward chunk of mud. Hovering right next to the chunk of mud is an oversized insect similar in appearance to a wasp. I proceed with caution to the furthest restroom stall not wanting to attract attention to myself, as I’m unsure as to the disposition of this mysterious creature that seems to be fully consumed by its activity around the mud deposit. The wasp-like creature’s hovering in the air reminds me vaguely of a hummingbird.
After quietly washing my hands I tip-toe to the exit door casually making visual contact. The insect seems oblivious to me and is still going about its muddy business.
A bit later I discover that this mysterious insect is known as a mud dauber. It is indeed a species of wasp that uses its mandibles to collect mud and then build a nest made of mud to lay its eggs. A dietary aspect of the creature that was unknown to me as well, is that the mud dauber consumes spiders. Most peculiar. But God made everything for a reason – in this case – an arachnid lunch for the mud dauber. An overpopulation of spiders in the locale thus seems a slim possibility with the mud dauber(s) doing their job so to speak. Many a person suffering from arachnophobia may be applauding now at this perhaps altogether new revelation.
I must say that with some regret I later instigate the destruction of the mud daubers habitat – when none is in sight of course – as a restroom certainly is not the proper place for building a nest – at least from a human perspective.
The next morning I again see a mud dauber – perhaps it is the same one – inspecting the now empty door frame. I can perceive that it undoubtedly is smelling the remaining traces of mud wondering what on earth (no pun intended) went on here. Luckily for me it doesn’t associate my presence with the loss of its home, as I also read when doing my research that the mud dauber can get belligerent and attack if provoked. I’m sorry little mud dauber to have caused you so much trouble and inconvenience negating all your hard work, but kindly build another of your unique structures somewhere outside if you don’t mind.
My note pad in conjunction with the empty paper towel holder on the ceiling tells me I’m out of paper towels again, plus a few other household items as well. Since the laundry basket is also rather full, this seems like an opportune time to accomplish both errands together on this warm sunny morning.
Arriving at the laundromat, first stuffing then feeding the machines, and letting them commence their duty, I employ a new feature I have discovered on my phone – a timer – thus letting me depart from the laundromat. I tend to think that watching a washing machine rotate is really not that terribly exciting, and thus am grateful for the new discovery.
Having procured a six pack of paper towels, part of my my second errand, I then meander the aisles and peruse the shelves looking for a can of oven cleaner.
All of a sudden a jar of peanut butter rolls around the corner at an astonishingly swift pace, catching me by total surprise. I stoop down and pick it up hindering it’s forward progress. The new found freedom thus impaired on behalf of the peanut butter jar, I spy the purchaser of the little runaway rounding the corner in hot pursuit. She smiles at me as I hand her the impertinent runaway. I ask her if she might know where the oven cleaner is kept, and just as I’m asking, I see it almost at eye level right in front of me – the last can of it too! This was no mere coincidence, it was destiny!