Friends & Relations

September 12

Eleni and I haven’t been on an adventure together for as long as I can remember—possibly not since she was still wee and living with me. So a few months ago we planned a long-overdue getaway together: just us and infant Ruby. I was afraid I’d have to cancel because of my ongoing mouth crisis, but this morning I loaded my cooler with a million dollars’ worth of food and set off for Lakeport on the shores of the drought-shrunken Clear Lake. Our AirBnB used to be located right at water’s edge, but no more. 

By noon I’d settled in and, to pass the time while waiting for Eleni’s arrival, took a little stroll on what used to be lakebed, sinking with every step into mushy sand, avoiding shorebird poop and giant fish skeletons, and accidentally scaring off nearby swans and pelicans.

A truck full of Papanikolas-Redwines rolled in around 5:00. The two older kids ran around outside for a while and then bade a reluctant goodbye to Eleni and Ruby as they and Jason piled back into the vehicle for their 2.5-hour drive back home to Chico.

Ruby is a cheerful little thing.

She got lots of cuddles from both of us. Here, however, she doesn’t look so sure about me.

After a big salmon dinner, ample baby time and a bunch of giggles (and me icing my face and lip now and again to try to lessen the unrelenting discomfort), we retired to our separate bedrooms for the evening.

September 13

The dentist had asked me for a face “map” showing the current location of the various nerve damage issues. This is what I texted her first thing his morning (fun with Photoshop), along with the news that there hasn’t been an iota of improvement during these two weeks.

After breakfast we packed up Ruby and made our way south to parched Clear Lake State Park.

The temperature was in the 90s so our walk was short. Though Ruby weighs a ton, Eleni schlepped her with strength and style.

Back at the AirBnB, I honed my rusty skills at rocking babies to sleep and then laying them down without waking them. My success rate throughout the day was three for three.

As Ruby napped, Eleni and I entertained ourselves with selfies. First, we tried expressing different emotions. Here, we’re sad:

Then we tried some dance steps. It goes without saying that this is The Swim.

Finally, we did some role-playing. In this sequence, we imagine an encounter with extra-terrestrials. Our acting is a bit deficient in subtlety and variation.

Afterwards, I practiced the lost art of comforting newly awakened babies.

As evening approached, we looked toward the lake and saw an otter scamper across the sand and into the water, and a bit later a pile of swans and deer gathered nearby.

We ate our dinner out on the patio, unfortunately forgetting to close the sliding glass door to the inside. When we came back in we encountered more flying bugs than I’ve ever seen in my life, swarming and humming around all the lights literally by the tens of thousands. We tried to lure them back out with Molly’s suggested method—turning off all the interior lights, turning on the outdoor ones, and opening the exterior doors—but that barely made a dent in the population. Because I’m uptight when staying in someone else’s house, I worried about what the owner would say when she found her walls, ceilings and furniture veneered with tiny winged insects. We sent her a confessional email to warn her about what she’d find in our wake tomorrow. Her reply was unconcerned. Apparently the creatures are rice flies, quarter-inch pests with lacy wings that, fortunately, don’t bite like skeeters do and die by morning. She said they’ve been particularly troublesome this year because of the drought.

September 14

Rice flies have a longer lifespan than previously reported. Thousands of them were still merrily bopping around the house as we packed up to leave.

I drove Eleni and Ruby back up to Chico and hung out at their house during the afternoon so I could have time with the older kids. Jesse seemed pleased to see me. Ember, less so. When it came time for me to leave for my AirBnB (solo this time) she wouldn’t say goodbye to me. With shattering heart I walked out to my car but, realizing I wouldn’t see her till her birthday in a couple weeks, I returned and asked her to bid me an acceptable adieu. She turned to run off in the opposite direction, so I gave up and drove off.

At my lodging by 4:00, I wished I weren’t there but rather on the road toward my next destination, but there was nothing to be done for that.

Around 6:30 Eleni and I decided I would pop back over to their house (just five minutes away) for one more brief visit. They ordered pizza and I stuck around till a while after dark, at which point I had to ask Eleni to be my pilot car and guide me home, since nighttime driving no longer works for me. I lost her en route, but made it back safely.

September 15

I blasted out of Chico shortly after I woke up, and landed in Marianna’s backyard in Nevada City an hour and a half later. She’s still in a wheelchair following her recent fall and broken femur, but despite her immobility, she manages to cook amazing vegan meals every day. Her hubby Stephen served me like royalty: tea, a delicious plum cake and lentil-vegetable dal, followed by one of her homemade dark chocolate truffles. It was wonderful to catch up after a long absence.

Next, it was off to see Syd at her lovely house in the country where a turkey paid my car a visit.

Once again, I was spoiled by delicious food, good company, and also a comfortable bed.

September 16

First thing in the morning, once again I was on the road, first passing by Marianna’s to pick up a batch of the incredible truffles that she’d made for me last night, and then reaching TJ at The Rancho. We relaxed in the shade in her yard, yacked, played Yahtzee and ate some of her legendary peanut curry.

September 17

I had to cut my TJ visit short because my dentist asked me to come in for yet another visit this afternoon. I can’t tell you how nasty these last 2.5 weeks have been. My mouth still feels like someone has poured acid on it, there’s little sensation in my chin, the site of the former implant still aches quite a bit, two of my nearby teeth hurt, and I have a constant prickling across half my face as though spiders are doing an Irish hornpipe there.

Just back from the dentist who poked my face all over with a sharp, pointed tool (to evaluate numbness). Good news, bad news: She believes the problems should eventually resolve. But: not for 3 to 6 months, or more. And it could get worse before it gets better. And there’s no guarantee that when she goes back in with smaller hardware, the problem won’t recur. She referred to the issue as a “nerve compression injury” and still isn’t sure why it happened. After thousands of implants, it’s a first for her. I feel so special.