MAGIC WOK

LONG AGO, when Mr. Bob and I used to go to our within-walking-distance Chinese restaurant, the lone waiter, once he knew we were business owners, used to greet us with

"Once upon a time.......", followed by "There was a Queen", then

"and a King". It was such a ritual that I used to add "and an Emporer", just so Patrick wouldn't feel left out. And so it went, visit after visit, our knowing exactly how the words would unfold, wishing we could somehow break the mold.

Fast forward a few years to when the neighbors we'd lived side by side with for 45 years all decided to go to dinner together once a month. We'd carpooled and watched over the neighborhood kids all that while without having time to socialize really and retirement was affording us that freedom. We began by going to various restaurants, but nearly all of them refused to give us separate checks at the end of a delightful evening and we found ourselves in the position of doing mathematical story problems in figuring out who owed what.

Patrick to the rescue! At The Magic Wok, he was perfectly willing to separate the cost of the meal and it didn't take us long to decide to return and give that restaurant our business each month.

Gunars, in the Hawaiian shirt, is no longer with us. He was a sheriff's deputy and he left us too soon, but his widow, Susie (in chartreuse) still joins us. She retired last month, the last of us to keep working.

Dave, wearing an island shirt here, was a camp director in the High Sierra. He's the one with the yard full of artfully arranged mining equipment, up on the corner. He pans for gold in his front yard, you may remember. His wife, Shirley designs greeting cards and holds workshops for rubber stamping.

Clockwise, Rita and Bill, Zip (so camera shy in the beginning, refer to the first group picture), his wife must have been absent that evening, Susie, Dave, the miner, us and Shirley, Dave's wife. All have interesting stories to tell and the laughter is long and loud on the evenings we meet. Patrick assures us that it's permissible to be boisterous.

His conversational skills have broadened way beyond "Once upon a time........." and he comes to our table and joins our chatter, bringing in the subjects of the stock market and whatever else is on his mind.


Tonight's the night we get together (the third Thursday of each month) and anticipation runs high........eating Chinese food with 9 or 10 dishes to share is a treat, providing much variety. Dave, the miner, is the only one who brings his own chopsticks and handles them comfortably, so we let him take home most of the leftovers.


I just sent Owen a red money envelope this morning for Chinese New Year

Meanwhile, Happy Chinese New Year. Would that you could join us tonight. What dish would you order?

REMEMBERING OUaT

I HOPE YOU DON'T WEARY of my frequent references to the bookshop we owned from 1966 until we sold it in 2003. It comprised nearly half of my life so thoughts of it often arise. The subject popped up again when I opened my email on Thanksgiving morning and found a letter from Lynne, a long time customer who morphed into being a friend as did so many people who chose to shop at our independent bookstore.

The contents of her email warmed my heart. Not everyone who shopped with us, "got it", understood what we were really about. I've always insisted that I was simply the channel through which an idea expressed which is getting rather esoteric but some folks really seemed to grasp the essence of the enterprise, more than others. Lynne was one of those. Henceforth, her words:




∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

At this very moment, many people are thinking of you two and how much you have meant to them over the years* and how interesting you both are, in your individual ways. It's such a hard time for you right now, and we shuffle about, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. So I'm writing to say, "Hey! Over here! I'm thinking fond thoughts of you two" and also "Happy Thanksgiving", my friends.

*****

All those days at Once Upon a Time are so clear to me. The dear, well-chosen books. The different areas of delight. The cards which were such treasures. The very air.

One day, Jane, you needed a person to help, and let me come in a take someone's  shift. I remember walking around the shop, dusting the already-dusted shelves and touching each book, trying to keep them alphabetized or at least not upside down.I fluffed up the plush animals and put little book-character figures into amusing poses. In short, I was no help at all. Yet in return, you gifted me with a delicious volume of Mary Oliver which I treasure to this day.

Mr. Bob brought his debonaire manners and flashed his twinkley eyes, and made me chuckle the first time we met. We were conversing about that fabulous screen door which I still want. What exactly was funny, I have no memory of, but Bob, you sure made me laugh out loud, and it was clear why Jane had fallen for you.

I remember bringing cousins and friends to the shop because it was such a treat just to be there.  First off, many folks weren't that interested in going to a children's bookshop...they thought!  But when I brought them in, then they saw and experienced what you provided.  The child's desk. The window displays. The special books for adults. They became filled with delight and wanted to return again and again, as I did.


One year, I got a notice in the mail about a "Bridge" group. What a truly delicious idea! And it was just at the point I'd made myself decide to actually DO something more, socially, not merely talk about it. Oh, I was so scared to go! But Bob and Jane, you made me, you made us, so comfortable and welcome. One of your biggest gifts to me was of my friends Nancy and Michael Coler, whom I met there at Bridge Club.  And then, there were all those wonderful Sunday evenings, lanterns lit in the sweet flower-filled backyard night! Sometimes I'd walk out into your garden, look toward your house and see those fascinating folks and think, This must be something like Heaven. And it was.

This Thanksgiving, I want to express how grateful I am for knowing both of you, quirky, generous, and inventive folks that you are! 

Tomorrow, I hope you can enjoy that turkey and dressing.

Fondly,

Lynne"


∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞


A note of explanation about the Bridge Club to which Lynne referred. For six months we hosted a weekly Open House on Sunday evenings, thinking of it as a "bridge" from the carefree weekend, back to the workaday world on the next day. There was no card playing involved. It was a relaxed, "come if you can, come as you are" sort of thing and there was never a Sunday without anyone showing up. We provided beverages, guests brought something on which to nibble. We disbanded because the urge to travel posed the problem of how to notify everyone who might show up that we wouldn't be in town, so it seemed simpler to stop, but in one way or another the people who attended let us know how much they missed the event. 


And one last picture of Once Upon a Time for now. Mr. Bob has a reputation for being an easy sleeper. As I write this at 12:26 p.m., he's back into bed, snoozing away and it's time for our dinner. Should I wake him for sustenance or let him sleep on? That's the biggest dilemma I'm faced with these days. 

AARP TALK

I'M SO NON-INCLINED toward things medical that I never even watched "Dr. Kildare", a TV series back in the 60's. I'm not tempted by any of the current doctor series, although I've been known to sneak a peek at "Doc Watson". I totally understand his fear of the sight of blood.

 Even as a 3 year old, I had no aspirations to be a nurse when I grew up. I came close to convincing my last family doctor that I was a Christian Scientist, and he pretty well gave me my head about what tests I wanted to have (zero. nada, no way)

Now I'm paying for it.

That's our hospital. Yesterday I went to the medical building in front (can't be seen in this photo which was taken from the medical building in back)

I'd decided not to go into the details of yesterday's appointment and then I read the latest comments on yesterday's blog. Joanne's uttered appreciation for the medical reports came close to changing my mind and then I read that even worldly-wise Ted in Minnesota had his fingers crossed and I couldn't just leave him that way......it might interfere with his taking the daily picture of Lake George, so here I be with an update.

When I say my prayers, what I ask for is courage. And I came through the hour yesterday with the equivalent of a stiff upper lip. The growth is large......nearly the size of a tennis ball......the next step is to see if it's metastasized (I couldn't manage that one without the dictionary). I need to go to a hospital in Pasadena to have an MRI of the breast (excuse me, gentlemen, but modesty is at a minimum here). "Will I have to go into a tube?" I asked, for I think claustrophobia may be present in my latter years. "No, you'll lie on your stomach wearing something much like what Madonna wore", was the answer. I can hardly wait.

And a chest x-ray. And blood work. And surgery. And then a recommendation of how to go forward......radiation, chemotherapy or a combination of the two. And then the drum roll as I make my decision.

One thing he stressed was not to ignore it and then three months down the road changing my mind when the condition starts to get ugly.

When I had my clothes back on and buttoned, Tim was called in and it was all explained again. Even the second time around, it was more than the mind could absorb.

Once out of the medical building, we eased ourselves into the van and Tim drove us to a restaurant where we gorged ourselves on BLT pasta and key lime pie.

Should this medical saga be continued?

"My mother didn't really cook.  But she did 

make key lime pie, until the day the top of 

the evaporated milk container accidentally 

ended up in the pie and she decided cooking 

took too much concentration."  William Norwich
                                              

CATALYTIC ACTION

CATALYST:
    something that causes activity between two or more persons or

    forces without itself being affected.


    a person whose talk, enthusiasm, or energy causes others to be
    more friendly, enthusiastic, or energetic.

The word "catalyst" is the one description that I can comfortably accept for myself. Presumably that's what made me a halfway decent bookseller; my ability to put people together or person and book successfully.

I suppose it's this quality that makes me wish I could gather together into one room all of you good people who leave comments, so that you could come to know each other. For, truth to tell, I think your comments make more interesting reading that what you're commenting on and I suspect that several of you would be compatible.

The best I can do here is to list some of your names, telling how you came into our world. But before I do that, you must realize that there is an equal number of readers who for whatever reason don't leave comments and they are just as precious to me, even in their silence. I am honored that you take the time to join us by reading what I send out most days. Thank you.

ANONYMOUS...........One in particular, judging by her writing, is
                                     Lisa, a long time bookshop customer who,            
                                     after the sale of the store remains a friend.

A NON Y MOUSE.....A lady, my age, who lives in Minnesota. We                                 
                                    met through looking at each other's photos
                                    in flickr. She's an artist, plays the accordian
                                    and has great legs and wears Harry Potter
                                    glasses. She's the wife of

TED............................Also a resident of MN, a retired art        
                                    professor at the college level. Every day
                                    for the past few years he has taken a photo
                                    of the lake, standing in the same place. I
                                    shamelessly tease him about the
                                    ho-humness of the exercise even though I
                                    suspect it's brilliant.

JOANNE ...................A customer in the bookshop's early days, we
                                    have reconnected because she's the best
                                    friend of the daughter of the woman I share
                                    Manor library duties with.

EDIE...........................We met on an Elderhostel weekend in
                                    Austin, TX back in 2003 and have kept in
                                    touch ever since.

DENISE IN C'VILLE..Years ago, maybe 10 or so, a small group
                                      of people got together, online, with the
                                      common interest of writings by Anne
                                      Lamott, especially "Bird by Bird". We
                                      called ourselves The Birds. With a couple
                                      of exceptions, we've never met face-to-face

FRENCH SPEAKING
LADY...........................A staff member here at the Manor.

MJ.................................Now living in Vermont, MJ served on my
                                      staff for some time and was one of my
                                      favorite employees.

KAREN.........................Mr. Bob's niece who lives in Whittier.

A BRUSH WITH
COLOR..........................Another flickr friend, one who travels for
                                        Duke University. We had the good luck to
                                        meet her when Pasadena was on her
                                        itinerary. She's a wonderful watercolorist.
                                        Click on her name to visit her blog.

#409................................A Manor resident who lives next door.

VAL................................I've not actually met Val. She lives in PA
                                         and is the reader who sent flowers when
                                         Mr. Bob was hospitalized.

LYNNE...........................A longtime customer and friend who is an
                                         accomplished violinist.

SHELLEY.......................Mr. Bob's niece who lives in Chino Hills

SUZAN............................No idea how she found us from her home
                                          in Great Britain.

DAVE...............................A previous neighbor, the one who has a
                                           front yard full of mining paraphernalia
                                           gathered from the High Sierra when he
                                           was a camp director there.

THE WRINKLIES............Harvey&Sheila from England who visit        
                                           the USA each year for an extended time.
                                            That's their name when we correspond.
                                            We respond as The Wobblies.

KATHY G. .......................When new residents move to the Manor,
                                             great help is supplied by Gentle
                                             Transitions. Kathy G. made our move
                                             as painless as possible.

SUSAN H. ..........................Our dear and precious daughter in
                                              Alaska. The women in our family are
                                              the verbal ones. The men are more
                                              taciturn.

LIDOLIL..............................Another unmet flickr friend who        
                                               resides in England. She's of my age
                                               group and is a belly dancer!

COWTOWNER....................Lonna is the daughter of our once-
                                               upon-a-time best friends, both long                                                            
                                               gone from this plane of existence.

MICHEO..............................A flickr friend from Spain. She's the
                                               teacher who asked permission to
                                               use my blog as her high school
                                               students' lessons because it's more
                                               interesting than the text book.

How I wish I could reserve the large room on the Lower Level here and invite you to come see us, all at the same time. I'm pretty sure you'd enjoy each other.

I can pull up statistics about my blog. The following shows the activity for one week. I can only imagine that some them were called up by mistake for I don't know a soul in Russia or Argentina and the countries that are green show activity.

Again, thank you for being part of the Manorisms community.

                                           

A BIRD IN THE HAND

LA CRESCENTA NURSERY, since we downsized and moved, is no longer on our regular itinerary, but time was that we were there every weekend, searching out new plants for our garden. Recently I had need of a hostess gift, which gave me a good excuse to head for the nursery. 

Arnoldo is always eager to be of service and he seemed not to mind running around until he'd gathered up what pleased me...... 2 little pots of basil snuggled into a basket, a gift that would have pleased me to receive, which is pretty much how I choose presents. I also try to take the recipients taste into consideration, but someone once said "if it pleases me at least that's something".

While Mr. Bob waited in the car, I looked around, sighing a lot, for I do miss visiting this wondrous place.

Finally, I pulled myself away and as I assumed my position in the driver's seat of the car, we spotted an old friend who has become hard of hearing for we shouted his name several times in increasingly loud volume before we got Walter's attention. When he came to our window, 

we exchanged pleasantries; he has a quick wit, so it was beyond the "How've you been?" sort of small talk. When we wound it up, he said, "Wait right there" and went to his car, returning with a fat, little, ceramic bird which he presented to us. I was left to wonder how he just happened to have that in his vehicle? It's so very "Walter", always full of surprises.

Every object in our 2 rooms has a story; some of them I've long forgotten, others are still vivid in my mind, but this recent tale is how I came to have a bird in hand.

JANE, THE REJOINER

I'M NOT USUALLY much of a joiner, although years ago I was a member of Diane's weekly needlepoint class. Then I decided that particular form of needlework didn't fit my lifestyle at the time and I dropped out of the group. Remember, never say "Never". Last week I rethought that long-ago decision.


There could be no better setting in which to enjoy the pursuit of stitchery. Diane's home has appeared in more than one magazine and it's a beautiful place.......another reason why I marvel at our continuing friendship. In her English Tudor home, I've never seen one inch square inch of untidiness, whereas I live in middens of "stuff" ....... as though all of my treasured belongings had been stirred with a big spoon. And when in our home, Diane never seems to criticize, although I can just imagine what might be going on in her mind ........ we're that different in our living styles.

Diane's class sits around this table to do their stitching.

It's a joy just to be in this house and the decor changes with the seasons so there's no stopping to think of whether it's fall, summer, spring or winter outside. I met Diane long ago when she was a customer for the children's books she loves and uses in her displays.






















Red Riding Hood is featured in the photo above. We had a customer once upon a time whose daughter referred to the character as "Reddy Ride Hooding", which still makes me smile.

On with my story. Diane recently, when reading my anguished blogs about our present situation, invited me to rejoin her class, even though I'd have to bring my knitting rather than using thread and canvas as the other students do. I grabbed at the opportunity to be out in the world for a few hours with normally functioning human beings and enjoyed the first session last Saturday.

Eva brought her completed piece to show to the group.

I wonder how many stitches it contained and the title reminded me of the road trip I'd thought about taking, driving back roads to North Carolina. I was only halfway serious about it, but any such idea has now been obliterated.

Carol is working on a tiny canvas of a merry Santa Claus. She enjoys working small on canvas 18 holes to the inch. I remember Carol in high school and never dreamed we'd be stitching together 60 years later.

Fiona was in the midst of an ambitious project involving rabbits. As long as I've known her she's had projects under way. Before I met Fiona nearly 50 years ago, she had enjoyed a wood carving period and has done beautiful shutters for her home and a gate, as well as a mantle over the fireplace. And together we knit whole outfits for ourselves for a good, long while. Nowadays it's needlepoint for her.





Diane stitches daily and is working on a rug of beautiful designs.

She's amazing and her lovely home is filled with her work.

How lucky we are to have her as our needlework mentor.

 

Not only did I accomplish a few rows of knitting, but the conversation was good and regardless of which direction it took, Diane had something from her copious library to further enhance the subject. I'm not sure how I brought up the matter of Gee's Bend, but in addition to the story of that town's ferry which caught my interest in a Pulitzer Prize winning series in the Los Angeles Times back in 2000, the subject of the community's residents and their famous quilts was appropriate for the needlework group.

It was a refreshing morning and I returned to the Manor a renewed person, I think. And I get to do it again next Saturday!

Mr. Bob is doing fabulously well, doesn't mind and probably looks forward to his solitary time. There's food in the dining room downstairs and a string in each room to pull in case of an emergency. What could be better?

P. S. Yesterday, I gave you some erroneous information when I said that Diane's book, "Wonderful Stitches".  is out of print. I was mistaken. It's beyond me as to why no major publisher ever picked it up.  It can be ordered from Lulu by following this link. 

"Really I don't dislike to cook, but what you cook is eaten so quickly.  When you sew, you have something that will last to show for your efforts."

                                        ~Elizabeth Travis Johnson

FRIENDS INDEED

WE HAVE SOME FRIENDS and you've met them in these pages. Diane and her husband, Roger, are people we've known for over 20 years. We keep in touch by meeting for a meal every week, one of the best ways to keep a friendship alive and nurtured. It used to be dinner at 4 on Friday afternoons, an unusually early hour but one that assured being seated without a wait. I named it The Twilight Supper Club. If you've been reading this blog for years (It used to be named The Retired Printer and the Bookseller before it went belly up due to corruption.....the computer kind), you'll remember when we decided to visit all the restaurants in the area alphabetically. It took us a year and a half, but we did it and learned a lot in the process. For a while we set ourselves the challenge of setting the self timer to photograph all of us. One of the rules was that we had to get the name of the restaurant into the picture. It was fun at the time; and later too much of a hassle.

I started out this morning to tell you of my Saturday morning adventure yesterday, but the blog has a mind of its own and it decided to take a different direction. It's sort of nice to know what I'm going to write about tomorrow and that's rarely the case.

We get together with Diane and Roger on holidays, too, often including Tim and our mutual friend, Fiona. I've known her for nearly 50 years starting when Tim was in the stroller and we used to stand outside her antique shop and watch her change her display windows. I wouldn't take a baby into the store, so she and I corresponded up a storm even though we lived within walking distance. She's the one who talked me into opening a bookshop. I did, ran it for 37 years, sold it 8 years ago and Fiona is still running her antique shop. She's what's known as a better man than I.

I'm not quite as militant as I used to be about getting the group together for a photo and then I'm sorry afterward, because the collection that we do have tells a continuing story. I must get back to doing that. It's worth the effort.

Roger, has had a couple of years dealing with serious health problems......remember when we celebrated last Thanksgiving in the hospital cafeteria and he and Mr.Bob were in physical therapy at the same time? He's doing very well now, able to continue working. He's the one who taught me most of what I know about working on the computer, he being a doctor of computer science.

And Diane is a fiber artist who has written a wonderful book, now out of print and currently is teaching a needlepoint class in her home. I'll tell you a little about their home tomorrow. It's a splendid place and why we're so lucky to have these people as friends, I'll never quite understand. But I give thanks and more thanks as time goes by.

Time to say goodbye to these two friends and God willing, I'll tell you more tomorrow.

"Books and friends should be few but good."

THE DAY AFTER

HERE WE ARE ON JULY 5TH with memories of the 4th still vivid in our ebbing minds. The Manor celebrated with a barbecue on the patio. Because we had an invitation for dinner later in the day, we knew, from experience, that we shouldn't partake of a noontime meal, but as appointed photographers we were beholden to capture some of the goings-on. Calling on all of our self-discipline we ventured out, cameras in hand and this is what we saw.

How, I ask you, could we resist? The fact of the matter is that we couldn't. Out of all that was offered, I selected only a piece of chicken and a small wedge of watermelon for each of us. (All on one plate made walking possible; then we divided it up at our table.) No potato salad, no baked beans, no corn on the cob, no coleslaw, no ice cream sandwich. I think I really practiced restraint.

 Residents are very much into dressing the part for holidays and it's fun to see the different outfits. I must admit that I was no exception in selection of what to wear and even Mr. Bob's shirt sported flags.

Soon enough it was time to head up the hill to celebrate with Diane and Roger. Tim drove (how I love sitting in the passenger seat rather than behind the wheel) and our friend, Fiona, arrived ahead of us. All of these people are superb hosts....it puts us to shame. Diane decorates
the house to the nth degree for each season and she knows that presentation is everything (I tend to leave the milk carton on the table).

Three salads, a scoop of egg salad, tuna and a rice salad simulated a banana split. Freshly baked croissants were passed and we enjoyed and laughed and talked, enjoying each other's company. The meal ended with root beer floats. We're old enough to refer to them as "black cows", a term that seems old-fashioned somehow.

Note to self: At gatherings, be sure to gather everyone for a group picture, no matter how inconvenient it seems at the time. I didn't yesterday, and I'm sorry not to have recorded the event better.

The hostess, who worked the hardest, never appeared in a photo! Unforgivable, on my part.

All too soon, it was time to say goodbye and get ourselves back to the Manor. How lucky we are to live here and to have such fine, creative friends and family to ensure that our holidays are doubly festive.

"When your life flashes before your eyes, make sure you've got plenty to watch."
                                                                                         Anonymous