September 6, 1991
Dear Everyone:
Back when we were in Ashland, “Glinda” informed
“Jeannie” and me that she had a surprise planned for “Marshall's”
birthday and that she hoped we would participate.
Well, there's nothing we like
better than pulling a fast one on a brother, right?
So, for the Labor Day weekend, “Glinda” and
“Marshall” went away together, only, instead of arriving at Santa Cruz
as he expected, they landed at the
Ambrose Bierce House in St.
Helena in the Napa Valley Wine Country. The
house, a bed-and-breakfast in, is so-named because it actually belonged
at one time to Ambrose Bierce. It
has, of course, changed hands a few times since then.
There were two other couples staying at the Inn
that weekend, one or both of whom was/were planning a wedding.
There were lots of jokes about
relatives unexpectedly popping out of the 19th Century woodwork.
This led nicely to “Glinda's”
next surprise: “Jeannie” and me.
She had arranged for the four of us to go on a
private tour of the Schramsberg Winery. Unfortunately,
“Jeannie” and I were late for the tour, due to some nonsense that had
turned Interstate 680 North into Interstate 680 Parking Lot.
Instead, once we arrived at the
winery, we wandered around the lovely gardens until the tour happened to
pass us and then we joined it in progress, much to “Marshall’s”
surprise.
After the obligatory wind-tasting, “Jeannie”
presented “Marshall” with his next surprise.
A tie of such astonishing color
that he had to put his dark glasses on in order to wear it. Which is why
his regular glasses were in his shirt pocket.
Which is why they so easily fell
out of his pocket. Which we
didn't discover until we got back to the Ambrose Bierce House.
(Surprise!)
And he didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to
find his glasses (he must not be as blind as I am).
We walked into “downtown" St.
Helena for some lunch, wandered through an open air art festival, and
eventually headed back up to Schramsberg.
There we looked all around the garden, the parking lot, the gift
shop (of course there's a gift shop), and finally, looked under the car
that was parked where “Marshall's” car had been parked before.
And found his glasses, only
slightly the worse for having been run over once or twice.
All he needs is new lenses.
And new frames.
We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting the
shops and a 19th Century grist mill in the process of being restored,
with a 36-foot waterwheel, where I picked up a very mild case of poison
oak. We had dinner in Calistoga
at little tavern with a large wine list.
All the eating establishments seem to be required to carry their
wine cellars on their walls. Later,
we found the little train station that had been converted into a
shopping center, with tiny gift shop set up inside railroad cars.
And, finally, back to Ambrose Bierce's old place
and “Jeannie” and I made our way home. And
that was only Saturday.
On Sunday, I decided that I had just too darn many
T-shirts (I picked up seven more in Ashland this year) and other things
for my dresser. So “Jeannie” and
I went to our favorite discount antique warehouse and spent an hour or
so wandering through a lot of old furniture until I found a 3-drawer
bureau that I liked. We took it
back to my place, dumped it, and went over to “Jeannie's” because we
were scheduled to install some pet doors.
“Jeannie” had purchased two pet doors so her cat
could come and go as she pleased. One
was your basic hole-in-the-door for the door leading into the garage,
which is where she planned to keep the litter box.
The other, a much grander plan,
is designed to go with your sliding glass patio door.
Basically, it's a glass panel,
with a pet door in the bottom of it that you install where the sliding
door comes up and locks. The
sliding door remains, partially open at all times.
“Jeannie” didn't like this part,
but we made a valiant effort to understand the instructions, including
some calls to the merchant who sold it to her.
Finally, we decided to put this
one on hold and concentrate on the garage door.
Before I went over to “Jeannie's” Sunday morning, I
packed up my tools including hammer, nails, drill, screwdrivers,
extension cord, carpenter's level, etc. all in an extra-large Macy's
bag. The only thing I forgot was
the extra-large drill bits which, of course, we needed for starting the
whole of the garage door. However,
it's only 5 minutes to my place (and 20 minutes to find a drill bits).
Once the four holes were drilled
in the corners, it was a simple matter to use a keyhole saw to make a
big square hole.
Simple, but time-consuming and exhausting. We spent
a couple of hours taking turns going foohpa! foohpa! foohpa! until we
got our hole done. “Jeannie” now
has a nicely square (sort of) hole in her door.
When we got the pet door
installed, we discovered that the bolts included in the kit were too big
for “Jeannie” door (they seem to be intended for about a 3-4” thick
door). They stuck out too far on
the other side.
By now,
60 Minutes.
was on, so we put the pet door on hold and broke out a bottle of
champagne. When I first bought my
condo, Sally, my supervisor at the time, told me, “Being a homeowner
means making many trips to the hardware store.”
On Monday, which was a holiday, we took one of the
bolts to the hardware store and got replacements of the right size.
“Jeannie” also picked up some
other items, having found a whole new source for impulse shopping.
We finished the pet door and went
around hanging pictures/print/plants and finished up with installing the
frog-on-a-leaf door knockers the “Jeannie” had got in Ashland.
On Tuesday, which was a vacation day for me, I
rested and got over my cold from the week before.
Yesterday, at a staff meeting, I was presented with
an R&A (Recognition and Award) in the form of a marble and bronze
paperclip holder (you could always use another one of those) and a check
which, after taxes, medical and disability deductions, came to just what
I paid for the antique dresser, with enough left over for “Jeannie” and
me to go out to dinner this weekend. The
Award, by the way, was for the work I did on the Billing Project.
Love, as always,
Pete
PS. “Jeannie”
reports that she is returning the glass panel pet door.
As for the one in the garage
door, at turns out that the cat is quite pleased to jump up on the back
fence, thence to the quote “Spanish tile” awning and in through the
upstairs bedroom window if someone would be so kind as to pop the screen
open for her.
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