Parking is Such Sweet Sorrow

I avoid crowds, like the ones you might expect Christmas shopping on a Saturday afternoon in Walnut Creek's Broadway Plaza. While I do enjoy seeing the decorations and sensing the joys of the season, too many people are, well, just plain cranky. The best display of this attitude is in parking lots where, for reasons I do not understand, ordinary people become filled with wrath.

So I rode ma moto to Walnut Creek, knowing that there are dedicated motorcycle parking places in the multi-story structure near Crate & Barrel. I did not gloat (visibly) as I passed a line of impatient drivers held up because someone far, far ahead was waiting for a vehicle to back out of their space. "Why was this particular space sought after?", I wondered. Anyway, I visited L'Occitane, Nordstrom and the Ecco shoe store, making purchases in all three. With my goods safely packed into my long and flexible backpack, I returned to find my bike one of 3 in the motorcycle area. "Nice ride" was written on a business card and stuck in my instrument cluster. I guess that's a compliment.

Leaving Walnut Creek, I noticed the drivers were beyond impatient, navigating erratically which is dangerous for those of us with less "buffer" to protect our bodies. So I took the back roads home, greeted by a wagging Roman in the front yard. We got inside just as the rain showers began. It was a very satisfying ride, especially the parking.

Snow on the Mountain

Mount Diablo often has a dusting of snow, but not to such low elevations as during last night's storm. Roman loved greeting all the people (especially the kids) who had the same idea we did: take a photo from the Dinosaur Park overlook off Taylor Boulevard.

We parked in the bike lane with everyone else and scurried up the hill while there was still some sunlight on the mountain. The array of camera equipment represented a pretty good cross section of photographers, from amateur to professional. Tripods and light meters abounded, but we just did some quick "point and shoots" to capture the moment. A nice gentleman took our photo, but couldn't get the horizon level, so I rotated the photo above.

During Christmas, we plan to document Roman's first encounter with snow...the climate he was bred for.

Mulberry Haiku

(The art of Japanese Haiku poetry involves three line stanzas, usually in lengths of 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively. This post is my humble attempt at a Haiku approach to every day chores.)

Evil Mulberry
Leathery leaves unwilling
To decompose now

Squirrel autobahn
You gave access to the house
For creekside varmints

We prune you early
Before the leaves turn and fall
Branches chopped, leaves gone

Yellow fibrous leaves
Packed into recycle bin

Make us smile in peace

And now the backstory: for years we have mulched birch tree and liquid amber leaves into the vegetable garden area to improve the soil. What was once nearly impenetrable clay is now cake-flour like soil in which vegetables thrive in summer.

Mulberry leaves are fibrous, leathery and very reluctant to decompose. In Spring when the rototiller is asked to do the heavy work of turning the layers of soil, leaves and other vegetable matter, the Mulberry leaves sneer in denial. They form a slimy, almost chamois-like layer which merely churns around in an ever-thickening wad on the rototiller's tines. The only remedy is to remove this mess by hand, a very unpleasant task indeed.

So we have learned to prune the Mulberry BEFORE the leaves fall. Cutting the branches into lengths which fit in the bin, green leaves and all, we eliminate the double handling of the nasty leaves. And we really upset the squirrels by denying them easy access to the roof of the house from their nests in the Buckeye trees along the creek.