The View, Part 1 of 4
The first of four sunset shots as a storm system seeps into the valley.
The first of four sunset shots as a storm system seeps into the valley.
Meet three of our Nearest Neighbor’s dogs, Happy, Spartacus and Rusty. Happy is the filthy one.
We have lots of sticky clay mud, shoe scrapers everywhere and signs of reptiles we’d rather not meet face to face.
A tree fell on a power line on our property, PG&E’s tech took the low road, and the line turned out to be connected to nothing.
A list of small things: wood chips, a mower for Dino, feral cats, my parents’ visit and a booking calendar in the works.
Our two furnaces date from 1966 and burn heating oil, and finding someone who can service them is a project in itself.
Two little benches from the craft store give the front foyer a spot to sit down and take off shoes.
Our neighbors’ horses escaped onto our property, and the rider who came to fetch them left a present on our driveway.
The final bit of the planter box story, from our SF balcony to a new home at Purgatory.
Living up in the hills means ever-changing light and ever-moving clouds.
Lots of people get lost up here, and sometimes unusual things happen, like a car-retrieval drama playing out in our driveway.
Our first Christmas at Purgatory: a quiet day, meaningful decorations and soft-boiled eggs with toast soldiers.
A holiday recording I made for Agent Smith. Feel free to laugh…a lot.
Random images: a possible 1851 grave marker for one Tom Collins, new doorstoppers and more.
Agent Smith brought home a cordless Milwaukee drill from Home Despot, one that lives in the house so I don’t have to trudge out to the garage for the greasy one.
My old filing cabinet gets a facelift, with a new reddish look to go with my office floors.
How the planter boxes from our SF porch made it to Purgatory after all, and how the geraniums and succulents are settling in.
Exploring the six-stall pole barn: barn swallows, a screech owl, tack rooms full of random stuff and piles of bird poop over a foot high.
A coyote stops by to sample the fallen figs outside my office, more annoyed by the neighbor’s barking dogs than by me watching.
Our new cleaning service accidentally left with the one bucket Thy isn’t afraid of. Happily, they brought it back.
Photo highlights: all our books shelved, the boys’ new space, the repurposed shed and a refreshed kitchen.
The original architect drawings are scanned, including the elevations, a rendering and a great room spiral staircase that never got built.
We now live full-time at Purgatory, and the boys have moved into their new space, where Thy has become a Very Brave Bird.
The old playground goes away via Craigslist, and Bob, who has taken care of this land for about fifty years, mows the pastures.
Our San Francisco plum tree doesn’t want us to move: a bumper crop of plums, pitted and frozen for jam later.
My giant ceramic Hello Kitty moves in, a broken Great Room blind moves out and the previous owners leave staples and nails across the tops of the windows.
Our modified Mini Clubman sold, leaving us with “just” five cars, plus a little red tractor and a golf cart that need some love.
