Dulce

She was very attractive. Long and slender, with big eyes ringed in kohl like some Egyptian beauty but not at all aloof. No, she was frisky and playful. And heartbreakingly affectionate. She knew how to win over hearts.

"Shall I call you Cleo?" I laughed as she ran after some sand crabs.

"Or do you like Nefertiti better?"

The Tattooed One wasn't answering. Just splashing in the waves, running up ahead to chase a booby or two, digging in the sand to expose a hidden crab.

"I know you're thirsty," I kept rattling. "But we'll get to that sweet, sweet water soon. Aguadulce...aguadulce...."

She walked with us all the way up the beach to the north end where there a spring poured fresh water into the bay and we all refreshed ourselves in the cool water. By then, I was calling the caramel-colored girl Dulce, for her personality was as sweet.

"Are you coming with us, Dulce?"

We turned around to walk the 4km back home and Dulce didn't hesitate for a moment. Sometimes ahead of us, sometimes behind, but never too far away. When Big Dog stopped to take a photo, Dulce would look up, walk over to me and lean against my leg. Even Big Dog was impressed.

"Not only is she clean and good-looking, she's smart and so well-mannered! Wish our ranch dogs were more like her!" and we talked about how we would NOT adopt her. We had to. We had to give each other reasons why that was a Bad Idea.

Back at the trailer, I got a tub of water for her. When she whimpered, Big Dog let her into the trailer! (That was a surprised even to me!) But Dulce didn't start pouncing on the sofas, or chewing on stuff. It was as if she already knew what kind of behavior would allow her to stay with us and what wouldn't. She found herself a cool spot on the tiled floor and lay down until it was time for us to go and try to find some food. ("Which taco stand shall we go to tonight?")

Dulce came with us to the taco stand, got a few tidbits, then came back home with us for more chow.

"Do you remember Teo? That gay boy who followed D.?"

"Yeah. I can't believe D took him to our island," said Big Dog. "I don't think D knew Teo was gay. He probably thought, oh, good, a houseboy."

Teo was a good kid. Girly and giggly but very sweet, he looked after D like a girlfriend even though D was Very Not Gay. Funny how we both remembered Teo after more than 30 years.

"Maybe Dulce's like that. Maybe she finds a new 'friend' each season to love in return for food and shelter," I wondered.

Dulce slept on our porch last night as I dreamt of taking her home with me. And when I woke, I was practicing how to say "where does one buy dogfood in this town" in Spanish.

But by then, Dulce was gone. Gone, with a tiny little piece of my heart.

You Heartbreaker!

All Quiet on the Western Front

I shouldn't have worried about our gluten-intolerant guests. After all, they are from Humboldt.

Hutch, his lovely lady Jane and their tweenage son Ry turned out to be ideal guests: they knew what they wanted to do while in our area and were out and about most of the day, looked after themselves and when we did socialize, were fun, intelligent and inquisitive. Which is saying a LOT for an 8th grade boy!

Plus, the food challenge became not very challenging. Jane even brought their own bowls for fruit salad in the morning! (Which was probably a good thing since I don't have bowls that size.)

But now they are back up north and it is quiet again at the ranch. I say "quiet" but I really mean "unpeopled" because it is a madhouse of activity. Big Dog suddenly got the interior decorator bug up his behind and has been pulling out artwork, curios, etc. from boxes that have not been opened since we packed them up for shipping across the Pacific. One corner of the office is my one-woman sweatshop with pieces of fabric piled up around the ancient sewing machine. (Finally resurrected the machine I discovered in a barn at the ranch when we first got here. Best $75 I've ever spent!) The other corner is the framing workshop where I cut matte and make little museum signs for Big Dog.

I really don't have time for any of this. It's harvest season and I am busy picking, drying, canning, fermenting and otherwise dealing with the produce. If I look at the list of what I need to do before the end of the season, I'll go crazy, so it is hidden away under the ever increasing mountain of paperwork, books, manuals, notes, wish lists. I also need to start thinking about next season and what seeds to order.

My "To Do" list grows faster than I can tick things off, but producing film and video has taught me how to stay focused on the project at hand and not feel too overwhelmed. Besides, even if I don't get around to drying all my herbs, or framing all of Big Dog's photos, or dyeing my organic cotton fabric red (beets! Hopi Red Dye amaranth!) and green (artichokes!) and brown (leaves!) there will be no angry client at the other end.

The sky is a deeper shade of blue, the sun a more golden yellow. Life is sweet.

Awwww Therapy

"Come look," Feather whispered to me.

Big Dog and I were up in Arcata, staying with Arby and Feather and their 3 cats.

I followed Feather down the hall to their room.

"Look," she sighed. "Isn't it the cutest sight?"

Spaz Cat was in bed, tucked under the sheets like a little baby.

"It's our 'awwww' moment for the day. It's good for the bones."

Huh?

Feather went on to explain that moments of intense cuteness stimulate you into producing more female hormone, thereby preventing osteoporosis. Hmmm. She could have something there.

"What's that term in Japanese?" asked Arby. "Kowai?"

"Actually, kowai is scary. Kawaii is cute."

"Kawaii."

"Yeah. Maybe that's what I need. More kawaii in my life."

Big Dog snickered.

"You? Kawaii? There's not the slightest whiff of kawaii about you," he laughed. "Look at her! All in black... She used to wear coveralls and smoke cigars!"

"Long before it was sort of trendy."

But maybe that's my problem. I've decided to make more of an effort to seek out the kawaii moments. Like Feather says, it'll be good for my bones. We can all use a bit of Awwww Therapy.

New Age Redneck

Dee, the caretaker of the ranch in the hills just beyond us, came over last week to help Big Dog rebuild the greenhouse. They put in steel bars to reinforce the flimsy aluminum and turned the thrashed sliding doors into regular hinged doors. We still haven't figured out a way to latch them together, but bungees work fine for now.

"Look, Dee's brought you some venison!" Big Dog shouted out to me from the greenhouse.
"Wow!"
"Yeah, it was a good deer season. I think we have our meat supply for a while," grinned Dee.
I cringed a little inside, wondering if he had gotten The Sisters, as I had been calling our frequent cervine visitors, but graciously accepted his vacuum sealed offering.

"My wife found a dead bear in a ravine the other day. I saw her walking up, carrying something that looked like a wadded up blanket or something and it was this bear!"
"I had no idea there were any bears left in these parts. Didn't they kill all the osos in Los Osos long ago?"
"It was the first one I'd seen around here, dead or alive."

Dee must have cut off the bear's paw because later on, over an end-of-the-day beer, he proudly brought out three bear claws from a tin can. They were giant. He told us his wife's got the rest of the bear "cooking" in a drum so she can use the bear hide. We talked about the other wild animals around here: the wild boar our nursery neighbors caught and how violent it was, the mountain lions and bobcats all the ranchers shoot around here.

"It's terrible how they'll just kill for sport. It's not even for food," Dee shook his head.

Yes, Dee is a New Age Redneck. He doesn't have much formal education, but he knows so much more than we do about the sun and moon and stars. He fells trees and chases trespassers with a loaded gun, and then the next week, he'll go and gather jade in Big Sur and craft them into delicate jewelry. He kills animals, but only for food and, like the original inhabitants of these lands, he will use every bit of his kill. I am fascinated by him and all that he knows and am plotting to be his newest good friend.