The Complaint Challenge: Christmas Edition

Our holiday season was festive and low-key. We went on a nighttime adventure to Filoli Gardens to check out their lights, which were impressive and beautiful. Wyatt and I went ice skating enough days in a row over the break that my right butt cheek was more tired than my left because of always going clockwise.

And of course there was Christmas. More specifically, Christmas Breakfast. This year, we went with Wyatt’s suggestion: Brownie Sundaes.

They were terrific. We used the Sour Cherry Frozen Yogurt recipe from our ice cream book. We substituted dried sour cherries that we rehydrated in a pan with some water. I have no idea if we used too many cherries or what, but the taste was bold, very cherry, and we liked it. This is the brownie recipe we chose, and we included chopped almonds.

The Complaint Challenge continued through Christmas, which, you’d think would not pose much of a hurdle, right? But the gift Wyatt was most hoping for was a remote-controlled airplaine. And he got it! And we took out out around 11 a.m. Christmas morning, to Crissy Field, with Betty in her new Doggy Parton pink pearls—real family outing style. I took Betty for a walk while Marc and Wyatt got the plane ready to fly, and about 20 minutes later, I looked behind me to see they were chasing after me and trying to get my attention. You see, the first time the plane took off, it really took off. It soared high on the wind, way up into the trees far beyond the buildings along the road to Parts Unknown, never to be seen again.

I’m pretty sure Wyatt was some combination of mad, sad, furious, angry, frustrated, disappointed and pissed-off. But he didn’t complain once! When we got home, Marc ordered the first and last replacement plane, which has not yet been flown because of the rain.

The rain! We have gotten so much rain. Which is great! California really needs rain. But also, the rate at which the rain has been falling is faster than our systems are able to handle. On New Year’s Eve, we had a little flood at ground level. It was a mess that we managed to fully clean up by the end of New Year’s Day thanks to a group effort around finding fans to buy (an hour away), dehumidifiers, towels, and ripping stuff up. The sandbags I filled and put into place that Tuesday, along with the plumber’s confirmation that our drain is good to go, have given me some peace of mind that we will stay dry as the storms continue, and when things calm down, we can get the repairs done.

So, who complained? Not one of us. Not one! This is not to say the experience was at all fun, low-stress, totally collaborative, or that no one snapped at anyone. But there were no complaints.

When we set up this challenge, we did not put in a contingency for a tie. And that’s what we ended up with. Each of us used 2 of our 3 lives, so we were even. As a result, everyone kept their money.

Wyatt proposed that for the coming year, we keep 2 jars. In one jar, every time Marc or I complain, we put in a dollar and Wyatt will get that jar. In the other jar, every time Wyatt complains, he puts in a dollar, and Marc and I get that jar. We asked why not a family jar where we do something fun (like go out for dinner or something) with the money, and Wyatt had strong objections: “That makes no sense. You LIKE going out to dinner. So you’ll just complain more so there’s more money to do that. It’s the same as the 'swear jar’ some people do which has never made sense to me …”

So far, I owe Wyatt a dollar.

Still No Complaints: The Half-Way Report

The short version is: two of us have used some of our lives, one of us claims he hasn’t used any, all of us are way more mindful of how we say things when we are displeased or struggling, and overall, not complaining is getting a lot smoother with practice. Also? People in general complain a LOT. And it takes some effort to not join them.

We’ve moved to stating facts. For example, the first Thursday of this challenge, Wyatt lost his first life in within the first few minutes of waking up: “I hate Thursdays,” and then he realized what he had said. “GAGUUUGH!”

But today, here’s how it went:

“Mom. Today is the day I have two periods of math and two periods of language arts.”

“I see what you did there! Nice one. But you know what else today is? The last day before break.”

"It probably won’t be that much different from every other day.”

“Fair, fair.”

We’ve also moved to asking for what we need or want. Like I said to Wyatt the other day, “I’ve noticed you’re not hanging up your swim stuff after practice, and that’s leaving me to clean up behind you, which makes me annoyed because I don’t want that job. Can you please pay better attention?”

And sometimes one of us will hear another one say something that’s on the edge of complaint, and ask the question, “Was that a complaint?” and the person says that either it was or that, no, it was just a statement about how they were feeling, in which case, super.

Also, there’s the choice to, as my dad would say, “zip it.” As in, “Zip your mouth shut.” I’ve had a couple of moments in the last two weeks when I was too irritated for mental somersaults and backflips and chose to simmer and say nothing in the moment. I addressed it later when I could be more … positive. It did not feel good in the moment, but I know complaining wouldn’t have, either. And I’m choosing believe that this new approach was more effective.

Two weeks to go!

We Can't Complain

The challenge is on.

I hadn’t ever thought about how much I complain until I started seeing Light Watkins’ posts around the idea, and then I was like, surely I can go a whole day without complaining. So the week before Thanksgiving, I gave it a try. It took me almost 72 hours to get 24 consecutive hours of no complaints! The whole exercise was was way more challenging than I thought it would be. At the same time, though, my awareness around my communication—in speech, text and email—grew exponentially. I started to notice a tiny, slightly unpleasant twinge every time a complaint formed in my mind, and the unpleasantness grew if I actually said it.

I didn’t tell anyone in my family about my personal attempt at not complaining until last Sunday. When I mentioned it to Wyatt and asked him if he’d be interested in a month-long challenge, he was like, “Yes, and can we do it for money?” Naturally, I responded, “Yes! Let’s figure out the rules.” And this is how we found ourselves late Sunday morning, post-swim, hashing out the particulars of our challenge on the Brisbane pool deck over vending machine snacks.

As Wyatt licked the orange Cheetos dust from his fingers, I tapped away into a google doc on my phone. We talked about examples of complaints, figured out what felt fair, and decided practice would be key, so we would start December 1. When we got home from the pool, we presented the plan to Marc and attempted to further clarify with him what qualifies as a complaint. This definition is challenging because we also want to maintain good communication even when difficult things happen or big feelings come up during the month-long challenge. We concluded that saying once that something happened, or how we feel about something, isn’t complaining. But repeating it, dwelling on it out loud, or turning it into “this always happens,” or “you never,” or “why don’t they ever,” and that kind of thing is definitely complaining.

A couple of friends have joined us in this challenge, with their own rules, modified to fit ages and budgets. It’s already fun to be checking in to see how it’s going.

Here are our particulars. The more the merrier, so please jump in and join us in this challenge with whatever terms and incentives suit your situation.

I Can’t Complain

Dates: 6am Dec. 1 - 9 pm Dec. 31

Goal: Highest number of days not complaining

Paying in: $30 each cash

Prizes: Highest number of days not complaining gets the pot plus penalties 

Rules: No complaining anywhere to anyone—email, text, school, teachers, friends, family.

• No baiting

What’s a Complaint: com·​plaint kəm-ˈplānt. : expression of grief, pain, or dissatisfaction. We have decided that reporting that something happened isn’t the same as complaining.

3x in the month you can save yourself from the complaint—“What I meant to say was …”

Penalty: After your 3 lives, every time you mess up you owe a dollar

Keeping Track: 4:30pm is fess-up time and sticker time. Keep track on the calendar in the kitchen: stickers for no complaining days; write down complaints. Stickers go up for the previous day at 4:30pm.

Hot tip: Keep criticism to a minimum

Wyatt’s Alcatraz Swim

Last fall, Wyatt got the idea that he wanted to swim from Alcatraz. He hadn’t been swimming more than a few times since his final swimming lesson in the winter of 2019. He had wanted to join a swim team right after, but the pandemic took away that possibility. He was excited about Alcatraz; I told him it would be great, he could do it, and it would take a lot of work.

Looking to keep our training outside, Wyatt and I began swimming without wetsuits in Aquatic Park in November 2021 so he could decide whether he really wanted to commit to training for an Alcatraz swim in 2022. He experienced that terrifying breathless panic many of us experience in cold open water swims, where we feel like we can’t get enough air, like we can’t see, and like we might never, ever do “this” again. Except he did, and he kept at it until he was fine. Cold, but fine.

His determination helped clarify pretty quickly that I needed to find an Alcatraz swim for him. And preferably not a race. Who needs hundreds of adults climbing over you in the water as an 11 year-old at your first open water event?

We chose Odyssey Open Water Swimming. Wyatt set his sights on their October 15, 2022 swim. Odyssey welcomes people of all ages and backgrounds, the coaches are so encouraging, and the team offers kayak-supervised open water swims every Sunday morning in the Berkeley Marina. It sounded pretty perfect: Wyatt could do his open water swims without my having to get wet or even slightly cold.

That’s not how it went though. It’s hard to motivate yourself to round all the course buoys once, never mind multiple times, if you’re training solo. It’s also hard to stay warm enough as a kid to get past a half-mile without a wetsuit. So, I started joining Wyatt regularly in the water on Sundays and we’d meet for buoy selfies and to hype each other up. He added a wetsuit to the plan, which initially didn’t feel great but proved to be key to improved training.

Wyatt and I also swam laps together a couple times a week at an outdoor public pool. But in May, Wyatt finally got to join a swim team. He suddenly had practice all the time; I swam laps on my own so I could try to keep up on Sundays.

We kept swimming. And it wasn’t always the best because we had to say no to a bunch of fun things with friends on Sundays. And sometimes when we didn’t want go swim in the ocean, our reward for doing it anyway was swimming against a flood tide while waves smacked us in the face. Eventually we noticed we performed best when we had treats to look forward to, so we started stopping at Mariposa Bakery after the swim before heading home.

As the event got closer and closer, I found myself getting more and more anxious. I wasn’t swimming in the event, but it felt like there was so much on the line. So much training, so much anticipation. And the last two years had been so full of stops, cancellations, and planning on doing a thing that would be called off at the last minute. And what if Wyatt got sick? And what if he was terrified on the boat before he had to jump?

None of us got sick.

And he was beyond happy on the boat.

The swim went better than we could have planned. Wyatt would have preferred us to take fewer photos, but oh well. I swam from Alcatraz in 2008 and have no photos of it; he will not have that problem.

We started Saturday October 15 early in the morning. I got up at 4:30, Marc and Wyatt were up at 5:00, and all of us plus Betty were on our way to Hyde St. Pier by 5:45 to check in.

Around 7:00, Wyatt joined 99 other swimmers walking to the boats that would take them to Alcatraz, where they’d jump, then swim 2 miles to the beach at St. Francis Yacht Club.

After we thoroughly embarrassed Wyatt by cheering for him from the car as we drove by the line of swimmers on our way to the beach, we waited with our friends Jackie, Pete, and Sayde who had brought Wyatt thermoses of hot chocolate for after the swim.

Sayde (the only person without binoculars) spotted Wyatt first as he was swimming towards the beach about an hour after the swim had started. Wyatt ended the swim strong and had a beautiful exit from the water—sure steps, and face beaming with a deep sense of accomplishment.

He did it. And he can’t wait to do it again next year.

Update: After I published this piece, Odyssey posted their video of the event. I’ve linked to it below. Marc, Betty, and I all have a cameo, and Wyatt appears throughout.

Look What I Found

I was about to write a new post when I saw I never published this little update. Here it is, now that we are solidly into October.

July 11, 2022

Before this summer started, I pushed to finish some stories and submit them. Good thing, because this summer’s theme so far is definitely not writing.

It’s just about everything else though: adventuring, swimming, volunteering, and reconnecting with friends over food and if we’re lucky, karaoke.

Also, young Algae Beard completed a mile swim in the Berleley Marina on Sunday with Odyssey. He has an October Alcatraz swim in his sights and I am so excited for him!

Overlooked

Guess what?

My short story, “Overlooked,” was just published! You can read it online at OyeDrum. I’ve also linked to it here under my new Stories tab.

For “Two Words … “ I did a series of four reels on Instagram where I read the story out loud while making the “I Quit” toast. If you haven’t seen the reels, definitely check them out. You’ll no doubt notice from reel to reel that I learned a lot during the filming and editing processes (and that I still have plenty to learn). Regardless, I loved turning the piece into a read-aloud. I’m still thinking about what kind of audio-visual fun might complement Mary, her family, and the meatball.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy “Overlooked.”

Betty wants that meatball.

Are You in a Jam?

If you are in, have been, or might someday be in a jam, please read this short piece I wrote that was just published in an actual, real life, established (and scholarly!) journal.

To read it, click on the title of the piece and a PDF will appear. (If you have an account with University of California Press, they would love it if you read the piece on their site instead—just click the bibliographic URL.)

In my next post, I’ll get into some behind-the-scenes details about the piece that I think are worth sharing.

Meanwhile, I’m going to bask in the glow of my first published journal article since law school and hope that it brings you a moment of levity today. The mass shooting and loss of life in Uvalde, Texas is so heavy, and I am, once again, unable to square what this country claims to value with how it legislates or behaves.

Wyatt Volunteers. Be Like Wyatt.

A couple of months ago, Wyatt and I worked one of the Presidio Planting Days. it was incredibly satisfying to plant native species we had helped grow, and it was also fun doing work in a construction zone with other people! During our shift, a well-meaning dad (based on our observations, it’s possible he insisted that his somewhat reluctant family join him at planting day) asked Wyatt if this was his first time volunteering. Wyatt looked him squarely in the eye and said firmly, “No. I’ve been volunteering half my life.” The dad looked at me, unsure what to think, so I gave him more words. Something along the lines of, “Yeah, you know, we volunteer at the Presidio Nursery, and we started when he was 5 and now he’s 10, so ….”

I can’t even believe it has been half his life. Or 5 years.

Yesterday, the absolutely wonderful Presidio Nursery Staff (two of whom are pictured here) awarded Wyatt his 5-year anniversary pin for volunteering. They considered forming the R in “Spring,” but then settled on this modified podium pose.

And Wyatt is also featured in this month’s Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy newsletter.

Feeling inspired to get out there and support the parks? You can find a lot of local opportunities here.

Happy Holidays!

May your holiday season be as cheerful as a poodle in a sunflower costume.

Our winter traditions are going strong: Winter Solstice means backyard s’mores with the blowtorch and searzall plus reflections on things that we’re ready to let go of; Christmas eve features latkes for dinner; and, Christmas Day will bring dessert for breakfast. We’re trying a new to us snickers cheesecake recipe! This, friends, is how we live on the edge while remaining firmly rooted here at home. Ha.

The View From Day 10

Mom. So, when my grandkids ask me, “Pop! Did you ever have COVID?” I can say, “Let me tell you about the time I had COVID. It was the winter of ‘21, and vaccines were a week away from rolling out . . .”

I appreciated his over-the-top gravelly old man voice, his decision to place this story in winter for greater effect, and how at 10, he was was already consciously collecting the stories of his own life.

But let’s be honest. This particular story is one that I could have totally done without. We have spent the last 18 months fending off a COVID infection story: Wash your hands! Wash your nose! No, you can’t go to that party—I don’t care if it’s outside! No, you can’t do in-person after school activities yet! Take your vitamins! That was not good enough—go wash your hands again! And we got close—so close! But a week before Wyatt could have gotten his COVID vaccination, he caught the virus at school. And of course school was the one in-person, group thing that we hadn’t stopped him from doing.

I realized today that I wanted to remember the things that I’ve observed in the last 10 days of a quarantine and in-home isolation filled with stressful anticipation of serious symptoms that fortunately never settled in. (Quarantine has actually been longer than 10 days because the Health Department starts counting with zero.) I’ve organized my observations into “Rose, Bud, and Thorn” categories. Wyatt and I sometimes review our respective days this way at bedtime, but since we’ve been doing our best to isolate, mask-up and still remain a warm, caring family, we’ve shortened bedtime chats to a quick “good night,” which sucks.

A Bouquet of Roses: Gratitude

Community: We have a lot of ridiculously good friends, and our connections span so many years and experiences. Our people showed up for us in the most beautiful ways these last 10 days. When Wyatt was tiny, I heard a lot about “finding your community,” like it’s a place full of people where you plug yourself in and get an instant extended family. But that wasn’t our experience, and thank goodness it’s not the only way to be in community. It turns out that a person’s community doesn’t have to derive from or depend on a single place. When you find a friend, strength of connection builds with time and reciprocity. They become part of your community and you become part of theirs. My current model is: Every person is both the hub of and a spoke on the wheel of their unique community.

Health: Fortunately, all three of us were healthy when COVID showed up. This experience is great reminder that when we’re feeling good, it’s critical to do all the things to keep that going. Health matters all the time, but it’s easy to notice it only when you’re feeling sick, and that’s a mistake.

Support: I loved hearing from people just saying hi, checking in, and asking what they could do. I really loved hearing from people who said, “I’m going [somewhere exotic, like to the store], what can I pick up for you?” and “My kids are done with these magazines, do you think Wyatt would like them? I can drop them by!” and “Here is a list of the things I think I might like to do if I were stuck at home for 10 days. What sounds good to you? I’ll drop by a care package this week!” And never mind the surprise book and card that arrived on a particularly ugh day. And another friend’s Super Ginger Juice! These are great examples to me of how I can show up for my people going forward.

Resources: When the state COVID team called asked if we had enough food and cleaning supplies to last until Tuesday, I felt so grateful for everything that we have.

Adaptability: I have never felt more adaptable in my life. Eighteen months of pandemic has been a master class in how expectations are a waste of time, and how there are always more ways to practice being adaptable.

Buds! So Many Buds: Anticipation

Being out in the world: We cannot wait to be out in the world. Doing things! Seeing things! Going places! Not wearing a mask at home will also be fun.

Reconnecting with friends: Remember what “shelter in place” or “lockdown” was like? It’s a whole feeling. Or a collection of feelings like isolation, dread, worry, stress, annoyance, and more. I had forgotten, but it came back fast, thanks to the preceding 18-month depletion of energetic and emotional reserves. It is going to feel so, so good to see our people again.

A Bed of Thorns: Ouch!

Living in the present (Ha!): Ideally, Marc and I would have been super chill and all, “Oh, gosh. You are COVID positive. That’s okay, let’s just take it as it comes and be proactive with recovery strategies for you and prevention strategies for us.” But that wasn’t what happened. We went into overdrive with what might come next and ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, in addition to being proactive with recovery and prevention strategies. The good news is that I know such a combination of mindset and action exists, even though I have yet to experience it.

Treating your partner with care and compassion (Haha!): This was one of the first things that went out the window. And just when I thought I could lean out and grasp it again, another gust of stress blew it way out of reach. Fortunately, a friend told me she’s currently contemplating why we are inclined to treat strangers so well but don’t do the same (and take for granted) those who are near and dear to us. So now I’m actively thinking on it, too.

Control (Hahaha!): Control is 100% an illusion. But that fact doesn’t mean effort is futile. It seems like my goal should be to do my best on all fronts without counting on any of my efforts to yield a certain result. Good luck to me (and all of us) on this one.

Snack Time

Tomorrow is the first day of school.

Wyatt’s backpack is stocked with a new homework folder, some new-ish pencils with only a few dog bites in them, new erasers, and a package of lined paper. His teachers requested these things in the email they sent way back in June. I vaguely remember opening this email and thinking I should remember to reread it in August. I didn’t. Good thing school knows that some of us are laggards and re-sent it last week.

Wyatt also has in his backpack an extra KF-94 mask, hanitizer, a band aid that’s “looks 1,000 years old” but is still sealed in its wrapper and therefore viable, and a tube of sunscreen. We removed his tooth brushing kit because even though his orthodontist wants him to brush his teeth after every meal, brushing his teeth after lunch at school during COVID seems unnecessarily risky to all other parts of his body.

Weighing the pros and cons of tiny decisions like whether it makes sense to brush teeth at school during COVID makes me tired. Have you read this piece? It sums up so well the experience of being a parent of an under-12 child these days. I now get hot and prickly at the mere mention of a future commitment because the past 18 months have taught me that planning, a pillar of my existence for decades, is at best just a starting point and at worst a farce.

Regardless of how the school year ultimately unfolds, Wyatt will need lunches and snacks. He has made clear that both categories of food should be delicious and fast to eat so that they don’t take up precious play yard time. I have made clear that one of his morning jobs is to pack his lunch and snack. He was totally on top of lunch packing by the end of last year, except that he ate his lunch at snack time because maybe there wasn’t a snack, which meant he was consistently hangry after school. But on discussing it this weekend, neither of us could even figure out what a “good” snack would be (see criteria above), so I started looking online for granola bar-type snacks that are seed based (so he can avoid bringing nuts to school). I baked one recipe which was not good, and then made up my own recipe after having read a few more I found. I’m sure this recipe of mine can be refined further, but I’m happy with how our little Seed Bites turned out, and you may be in the same “What? They need a snack, too?” boat as me, so I wanted to share now. Perfectionism is the enemy of progress, right?

Seed Bites

Dry Ingredients

1/2C Raw Pumpkin Seeds

1/2C Raw Sunflower Seeds

1C Large flaked coconut (unsweetened)

1/4C Untoasted Sesame Seeds

1/4C Chia Seeds

1/4C Hemp Seeds

1/4C Ground Golden Flax Seeds

1/2t Kosher salt (or 1/4t sea salt)

1/2t Ground Cardamom

(I also added about 2T ground dried Sea Palm seaweed. I ground the seaweed leaves in our spices-dedicated coffee grinder. It adds to the flavor in a super subtle, wonderful way, and it is very nutritious. But maybe seaweed isn’t your thing? If so, omit.)

*Note: Feel free to mix and match seeds—total volume of seeds is the key, I believe, so if you’re missing one or more, make up the volume with one that you do have. But don’t omit the ground flax seeds, because they help bind everything together. Also, if coconut is a nut that’s not welcome in your community, omit it. Maybe add some additional seeds or some kind of dried fruit.

Wet Ingredients

2T Coconut Sugar (or substitute some other sugar)

3T Coconut Oil (or substitute some other oil)

2 1/2T Sunflower Seed Butter

1/4C Pure Maple Syrup

• Preheat oven to 325.

• Combine all of the dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl and stir so everything is mixed-up.

• Warm all of the wet ingredients in a small saucepan and whisk until smooth and pourable.

• Pour the wet ingredients over the mixed-up dry ingredients and fold the mixture over and over with a spatula until it is well combined. You can spread this mixture in an 8”x8” baking pan you have coated with baking spray, or you can do what I did and use a mini-muffin tin instead. The baking spray is key, so be sure to coat everything well. Pack each “muffin” tightly and fill about 3/4 full (mine, pictured below in the pan, were a little bit too full and overflowed a touch when baked). Bake about 20 minutes. You may need a little more or a little less time depending on your oven. You’re looking for a golden brown color overall, a little darker around the edges.

• When baked, remove from the oven and place the pan on a baking rack to cool for about an hour. I was worried mine would stick, so after about 20 minutes, I used a butter knife to slightly loosen each mini-muffin. After an hour, remove from pan and continue to let cool for another couple of hours. At that point, you can slice into bar shapes if you opted for the 8”x8” pan.

I put our mini-muffins in the freezer because I’m betting that the delightfully crispy exterior will become less crispy and more sticky if left on the counter or in the fridge. Because there’s so little water in these, Wyatt will just pull one (or more) from the freezer in the morning and it will be fully thawed by snack time.

Let Her Sleep

I’ve spent the last year at home with my little family (which, as you know from the last two posts, now includes an adolescent dog) making almost nothing. It’s possible I’ve made less than nothing if you count the sweater I knit in 2019 but totally unraveled last week because I hate wearing it. My mind boggles that I, a yarn whisperer, beginning sewist, and generally pretty artistic person have made less than nothing in over a year. Even this blog has been blank until recently. I will say I have been cooking a lot. But much of what I cook is incredibly uninspired at this point. There is joy in feeding my people, and lately, I revel in that joy most when we order takeout.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I was sure I’d be making all kinds of things for however long it lasted. If none of us got sick, there’d be lots of creative time! And energy! But no, there wasn’t—not even in this wildly privileged household. This uninspired situation has felt a little unnerving and has made me wonder whether I actually am a person who thrives on creativity, like I thought I was. It has also made me worry that my creativity is gone forever.

She’s not gone, though! This morning, I noticed that my creativity is resting very comfortably somewhere inside me, with lots of pillows, a white noise machine, black-out window shades and a lavender-scented eye mask. Her phone is in airplane mode. The temperature is perfect and she is out. She will wake up when she’s ready, and if I do anything to her or for her right now, whether it be gentle poking or offering tea, she will sleep harder and longer.

She’s deeply tired. So I’m going to leave her alone and keep up with the things that have kept me going during the pandemic, including: Spanish, surfing, meditation, and exercise.

I love my weekly Spanish class. My Spanish teacher (who is in Costa Rica) kicks-off each of our remote learning sessions with a “rompe hielo,” or an “ice breaker.” I adore these games. I spend half the time asking her how to say most of what I want to convey and the other half of the time messing up my verb endings. Maybe my over-the-top facial expressions and hand gestures make up for my shortcomings? Even if they don’t, being able to actually have a conversation in Spanish (even if it’s simple) is pretty thrilling.

And speaking of thrilling, I started surfing in 2020. It’s hard, sometimes terrifying, and I love it. Time feels like it stops when I (finally) catch and ride a wave. I’ve never felt anything like it, and even as a beginner, I can’t get enough. I also love the feeling of being in another world, so close to nature. Last summer, on one unusually sunny, warm morning, Wyatt and I were sitting among a bunch of other surfers our boards. As the sun sparkled on the water, a pod of bottle-nosed dolphins came to play. We all watched them jump and swim, our faces split into wide grins. Only when they had passed did anyone get back to the business of catching waves. Another memorable moment was two weeks ago when I watched a harbor seal hunt and gobble up a fish as the gulls descended on the water, scrounging for leftovers. There’s something to watch every day if I’m paying attention. Take peilcans, for example. I’d happily watch pelicans every day. I don’t understand how they can look both hilarious and majestic at the same time, but they do.

I’ve also continued my meditation practice. I was initiated into the Vedic Meditation tradition in September, but I’ve been doing some kind of sitting practice every day for a few years (my Insight Timer app says today is my 1,184th consecutive day of meditation). I’ve added Yoga Nidra as a resting practice because what I’ve tasted of yogic sleep is amazing.

Finally, I would be nowhere without exercise. I am simply a better person when I exercise. When I don’t, I am super uncomfortable in my body, and I get really grumpy and unpleasant. Now that the Betty is better on the leash, I can take her on my big walks up and down the hills. It’s quite a look, me rucking in my weight vest, with the treat pouch, and waist leash around my middle, but nobody cares. Betty certainly doesn’t.

“Remember When I Hated Her?”

It’s rough when your dream comes true and it feels like that might be the biggest mistake of your life.

On January 8, Wyatt and I picked Betty Star up at the airport. SFO was so clean and so empty that we wished we were actually traveling. A super sweet puppy nanny who lives in New York had flown to Chicago to get Betty, and after flying to San Francisco, the nanny planned to visit with local family before heading back to New York later that night. On a bench in baggage claim, we moved Betty from the nanny’s crate into our crate, waved good-bye to the nanny, and headed to the parking garage. Wyatt was bursting with pride as he buckled the carrier into the seat next to him. A true Dog Dad. You might even say, a BONE-afied Dog Dad.

Meeting Betty at home out of her crate was magical. Truly!

And then, beginning around 9pm, the whining started and everything began to go downhill.

Newbies that we were, we thought we’d be able to have Betty sleep in a designated space (the kitchen) in her crate without anyone around. Ha. She cried all night, and I know that because I ended up “sleeping” next to her. Misery. Wyatt got up Saturday morning, eager to spend the day chilling with Betty, reading his book while she hung out placidly, preferably as a foot warmer. But Betty had different ideas, which went something like: Nip, whine, pee, repeat. By Saturday evening, Wyatt was hiding in his closet, deeply regretting ever having asked for a dog. At dinner, over Betty’s incessant whining, Wyatt asked, “Can we return her?” We told him she just got here and needed some time.

On Sunday, which is technically “some time,” and after a day of constantly spraying enzymatic cleaner and mopping up the floor, Wyatt asked, “When was the first time you wished you could return me? NO JUDGMENTS. Seriously. No judgments.” We told him we never wanted to return him, but we totally understood why he was asking the question.

Honestly, Monday was not better. Overnight, Betty peed, pooped, and barfed with just enough time in between each event that sleep was nonexistent. And the month that followed definitely wasn’t awesome for us humans. Betty had a blast, though. I mean, when outside is merely an option for where to pee, there’s not much for a puppy to concern herself with, is there? When we had made it four whole weeks, it felt like a huge milestone. To celebrate, we had a 3-person family party, COVID style, full of giant bags of chips and other snacks while Betty napped in her crate.

Things have definitely improved since that first month. When Wyatt asked the other week, “Remember when I hated her?” (YES. How could I forget?) we got to have a pretty interesting conversation about expectations, how feelings can change, how fast puppies can learn, and how fortunate it was that his hating her was so short-lived.

Occasionally, I announce, “I HAVE REGRETS.” Like the day when Betty ate 2/3 of a cork coaster before anyone noticed. Or when we got to day 27 of the 30-day no accident goal, and then she peed in the house 3 days in a row. Just yesterday, we counted from the last penciled-in “P” on the kitchen calendar, thinking we must be pretty close to a month by now. But no—it had only been 12 days. Someday, maybe we’ll all be able to live in our whole house whenever we want, but it won’t be earlier than May 25.

One significant change since Betty arrived in January is that Wyatt has gone back to school. This shift is good for so many reasons, including that it gives him lots of time to miss hanging out with her during the day. But it also means we’re down one person who can can keep her from whining when she’s bored or lonely in the kitchen. Fortunately, she has gotten much better at walking on the leash, which means I can take her pretty far, up and down hills, and get some real exercise at the same time I’m walking her. She has also gotten really good at playing with other dogs, which means that we’re putting to good use the freebie “All Day Play” passes we got at Wag Hotel. Everybody wins with All Day Play.

I found a bunch of very glamorous photos of Betty on my phone just now. Pretty sure this is Wyatt’s doing.

Unexpectedly Right On Time

Tomorrow, our poodle puppy, Betty Star, will probably arrive.

There’s a lot to unpack in that short sentence.

“Tomorrow.” It’s close, but not here yet. And as we know, a lot can happen in a day. Take yesterday for example. I never would have imagined that I’d learn that school at home during a pandemic means that when there’s an attempted coup, you can talk with your kid in real time about white privilege, entitlement, domestic terrorism, representative democracy, and runoff elections (yay Georgia!).

And the newsy part! We’re getting a puppy. So fun, but possibly unsurprising to you because everyone you know got a dog or a puppy during COVID, and we are just late to the party? No way. We are unexpectedly right on time for this puppy. Let me catch you up.

As Wyatt will tell you, he has wanted a dog since he was born. Before he could talk, he’d point out dogs and grunt dog-like sounds to underscore his point. When he was around three, he’d yell at any passerby with a dog, “HEY! I LIKE YOUR DOG!” and wait to see if they’d offer for him to pet it, getting quietly offended if they ignored him. Now, he just asks, “Can I say hi to your dog?” He approaches in all the right ways, but only if the person says he may, and he takes no offense if they decline. Ah, maturity.

Despite years of pleas, neither Marc nor I ever found much charm in the idea of having a dog. But it got much harder to dismiss Wyatt’s requests after his Google slide presentation this fall, “Why I Am Ready For A Dog.” (Do not try to tell me Zoom school doesn’t work—this deck proves otherwise.) Ultimately, we told him if he showed he could take responsibility for his COVID home-Zoom-school work, we’d consider getting a dog because he’d have proven that he could pretty much manage his current life. But if he didn’t, we saw no reason to take on more responsibility for ourselves. He agreed to try, saying out loud more than a few times that he really doubted we’d ever change our minds. That expression was a genius move on his part. It made Marc and me examine if we were being honest and reasonable. It motivated us to figure out ways we could support Wyatt to reach his goal and somehow, along the way, helping him succeed and get a dog became our goal, too. By late November, Marc and I were convinced that Wyatt’s slides contained no lies—he was ready for a dog (and so were we).

I then began, in earnest, the process of finding a dog. We wanted to keep it a secret from Wyatt until we had an adoption set up, so this project took place late at night (there are no secrets in the daytime in our house these days). Wyatt’s favorite dog has always been a poodle, and he had researched breeds in depth months ago and determined that if he ever got a dog (please let me get a dog), it would be a poodle. I’m not allergic to poodles and Marc had no opinion, so the choice was clear. I began to scour rescue organizations’ websites, and I also started contacting breeders to find out if they might have an adult poodle they were retiring from show or from breeding. We figured that with an adult dog, we’d have a chance of them already being pretty well trained. I kept losing out with the rescues, but eventually, I found a breeder who had retiring adult dogs. The problem was that they were in the Midwest and the transportation options were too limited for that option to work. But this same breeder also had puppies who were just ready to go to their forever homes. There were three left, one of which, she said, would be perfect for us. The breeder sent us pictures (OHMYGOSH!), we sent a deposit, and we proceeded to keep the puppy a secret from Wyatt for a whole week. (I know. That’s longer than I thought I could do it, too.) We told him about it just before school let out for winter break.

We’ve all been waiting for the puppy’s arrival ever since, with varying degrees of patience. Honestly, these last couple of months have already been quite a ride, and she’s not even here yet. If you had told me 11 months ago we’d be getting a puppy, I’d have laughed uproariously at your silliness. But we have all changed and grown so much in the last 11 months that a thing I was pretty sure we’d never do is probably happening tomorrow. And she has such a good name!

Our puppy’s name is Betty Star, and that’s thanks to the power of friendship and dreams, both vital for life (pandemic or not). Based on the puppy’s photos, my friend, Anne, suggested Betty. It’s perfect. Star comes from when we had seen a dog that was up for adoption at a rescue organization, and his name was listed on the website as “Ink Spot.” Wyatt and I thought this was a stupid name. Wyatt noticed the white star-shaped patch on the pup’s chest and decided he should be named “Star” instead. Star then became the name of Wyatt’s dream dog, the one we’d talk about while we walked at the beach early in the morning before Zoom school. The whole time he looked like he was just out for a walk, but he was actually waiting for any opportunity to throw a ball or a stick for any dog who came by.

We are so excited she will “probably arrive” tomorrow. Having lived 2020, the three of us are now pleasantly surprised when our plans actually happen. As early as April, Wyatt had dubbed COVID “The Cancel Virus,” and it has definitely lived up to its nickname. Even the outdoors felt canceled for us on September 9 when the sun looked like didn’t rise. Consciously or not, we’ve developed a way of cradling a plan gently and carefully—like those butterflies we raised years ago—and definitely not gripping it. Everything can change in a moment, and it feels so awful to spin your wheels deep into the mud of disappointment for the better part of an otherwise perfectly good day simply because things didn’t go the way you imagined.

Finally, I don’t mean “probably arrive” in a pessimistic-that-other-shoe-is-bound-to-drop-knock-on-wood kind of way. That was pre-2020 me. I really just mean, “the plan is that she’ll arrive, and I hope she will, and we’ll see what happens.” This small difference is just one tiny example of how my heart, mind, and consciousness have shifted this past year. That process has been, and continues to be, amazing.

Masks Matter! Patterns & Tips To Make Your Own #masks4all

You have read this article from GetzWell Pediatrics, right? It has pretty much everything you need to know right now about masks, including why everyone needs to be wearing one. I promise, it’s worth your time, so hop over there and read it if you haven’t yet.

If you already have a Vogmask or something similar, use it. If you’re like us and don’t have one, homemade masks have been shown to work great! Whichever route you choose, remember: No hoarding, buying, or using N95 type masks or other personal protective equipment that health workers need!

No-Sew Mask Options: If you aren’t up for sewing, you can tie a bandana or other woven scarf around your nose and mouth when you go out. Or you can easily make this no-sew-mask with things you have in your home.

Sewn Mask Options: In the last two days, I’ve made two different styles of masks. Here’s my take on both

Rectangular: The first style I made is a pleated rectangular one with elastic loops that hook around your ears. I made these masks in response to a local request for masks for healthcare professionals, and I made them according to directions that reflect their specific requests. I’m sure there will be some variation among healthcare professionals as to what they need in a mask, so if you’re looking to make masks for donation, be sure to ask for details on what exactly your recipients need. Here are the directions for the pleated rectangular masks I made. It’s a LOT of fabric to sew through on the pleats, and the finished edges are annoying to sew, but it’s basically one-size-fits-all.

Fu Face Mask: The second style I made is the Fu Face Mask. It’s more of a dome shape, and it has shaped areas for your nose and chin. Unlike the rectangular mask that uses your ears as anchor points, in this style, one pair of fabric ties is stitched to the mask above your ears and goes around your head to tie, and a second pair is stitched to the mask below your ears and ties at the nape of your neck. We like these masks a lot. They fit us very well, are easy to sew, easy to fasten, and they stay put without fiddling. The pattern comes in different sizes, too, which means you can get a great fit.

The Fu Mask has two pattern pdfs you can download and print: Letter size and A4 size. When I printed both and compared them, the A4 size masks were a little larger than the letter size ones (I don’t know why, but they were). We like the coverage of the slightly larger ones, so I went with the A4. Here are links to my pattern pieces for S, M, and L sizes. I have added a 1/2” seam allowance on all sides. You can just print these patterns out, cut them out, and then cut your fabric to match the pattern (just remember to sew the masks with a 1/2” seam allowance).

I am using tightly woven cotton fabric remnants to make our masks. I made the size S for Wyatt and for me, and the size M for Marc. My notes on how to achieve a better fitting Fu Mask are listed below, and photos are included at the bottom:

(1) If you want to add an initial (I did an M for Marc) to the lining before you start sewing to tell the masks apart, sew that first.

(2) When you sew the ties that will end up above your ears, place them at about a 45 degree angle (or steeper) so the ties will go above your ears, not across them. If you attach the ties horizontally, like they show you to do in the written tutorial, you may find the ties go directly across your ears (uncomfortable), and that once you tie the strings, they slip down (annoying and ineffective).

(3) Cut your ties to be 15 inches long (or longer if you have a bigger than average head). Their recommendation of 12 inches is too short for the noggins in this household. I used bias tape for the ties because I had packages of it in my stash. I stitched down the open edges before attaching the ties. You can also make self-fabric ties according to the instructions in the Fu Mask video.

(4) Pay attention to tie placement in relation to your seam allowances. I cut my patterns with a 1/2” seam allowance (1/4” is too stressful for the youngest sewist around here), so when I place the ties at the bottom, I need to pin them 1/2” away from the lower cut edge.

(5) Because my seam allowances are wide, I trim all but the last one (which is tucked into the mask) to 1/4” after pressing.

(6) I double stitch over the ties because I don’t want them to pull out from the seams.

May It Be Epic

I hope that your holidays are amazing, full of fun and relaxation, and that they bring you the opportunity to spend time with people you love.

In other words, I hope they’re epic.

Today, I have food-related things to do: grocery shopping, preparing Christmas dessert-for-breakfast, and then frying latkes for dinner tonight. We’ve opted for ice cream sandwiches for breakfast tomorrow. I’ll be using a gluten-free chocolate chip cookie recipe from the book, Sister Pie, which my very thoughtful friend from law school gave me when she came to visit earlier this year. If I had been more thoughtful, I’d have turned the page and learned before this afternoon that the dough is supposed to rest for at least 24 hours, which will be impossible at this point. We’re also making custard style vanilla ice cream from The Perfect Scoop. (There’s a newer version of that book, but we have the original one.) I’ll be using Green Girl Vanilla Bean Gelato in my sandwich so that I don’t feel like trash after breakfast. With the leftover egg whites from the ice cream, I’m going to try making meringues. Latkes are courtesy of Smitten Kitchen’s recipe.

Speaking of food, we’ve actually been basically eating our way through this holiday season. Friendsgiving with the staff and volunteers in the Presidio was amazing as always, and it started us off well for the holiday season. I think this was our third celebration with the team, and I love the combination of getting time with our friends we’ve now known for a few years, interns we’ve only just met, and staff who are focused on showing up in meaningful ways (like taking time during the event to bring our attention to indigenous peoples) and doing their best for the earth.

Wyatt and I went ice skating a couple of times over Thanksgiving week, and that was super. A little chilly, but definitely super. Here we are at Snoopy’s Home Ice.

Also, this past weekend, we did a version of the intentions setting exercise in the December article from GetzWell Pediatrics. We made spring-roll wraps with our favorite rice wrappers by Star Anise Foods, and although we used more than 7 ingredients, I’m fine with a more robust representation of the Healthy Mind Platter. We also had two kinds of potato chips because why not? As we ate, we did little maps and drawings of how we envision spending our time in the coming year. We noticed the things we currently have plenty of (like focus time), and the things we need more of (like play time), and considered how we can find more balance in our week. Next, we each made a short list of the things we want to let go of from 2019, and then we burned the lists. I should have timed us, but it was within a few hours that we had already gone back to our old ways on a couple of those things we burned (surprise!), so obviously, this intentions thing is ongoing.

Fortunately, intentions can happen in the background while you do everything else. If you’ve got a free evening coming up and you’re local to San Francisco, you may want to check out Night Bloom at the Conservatory of Flowers. It’s on through January 5. It’s very magical. Here’s a peek at some of the photos Wyatt took:

Happy, merry, and see you in 2020.

New Hustle, a Book & Chiffonade

Well, maybe it isn’t new exactly. But “a revived hustle” sounds like it might be wheezing, and that’s definitely not true. I’m ghostwriting, this time for some really brilliant women who are leaders in their fields. I had forgotten what it was like not to couch everything in friendly examples of things people might want to do, read, cook, or whatever, because who wants to be bossed around by a blog post? The fact is that nobody wants to be bossed around by a blog post EXCEPT WHEN THEY DO. And now I am getting to help experts I admire flex their authority through written work while I take their direction. I love it so much.

And more good news:

Image Courtesy of One More Row Press

My pattern, Continuous, inspired by the work of Ruth Asawa, and an essay of mine about her, is in the new book, I Knit San Francisco. I’m so delighted with this project, and I hope that you’ll pick up a copy for yourself or for your friends who are knitters. If you prefer an e-book, you can get it through Ravelry.

Finally, I am wrangling with a question right now. I’ve been cooking a lot from recipes in books recently, and to date, I have never published on this blog any recipe from a book that wasn’t already published somewhere online, unless I had permission from the author (like I got from David Asher when we were making cheese). I am not sure if this is too ethical a position, or what. I know there are some bloggers who link to cookbooks and also provide the particular recipe, adapted or not. Sometimes, this “sharing” encourages people to actually buy the cookbook, and I think that’s a great thing. My concern, though, lies in what seem to be the downsides of this “sharing” practice, including my giving away on the Internet something that isn’t mine to give (even if I manage technically to comply with copyright law).

Tricky, right? Or maybe not. Regardless, I want to share a terrific Kale Salad with Roasted Persimmons and Citrus Miso Dressing that I made after eating a similar salad at Firefly Restaurant. I was inspired to try to replicate it because it was so delicious and I had never thought of roasting persimmons. We’ve also been eating a lot of the Kale Caesar and Collard Greens salad from in the Six Seasons Cookbook. What can I say—I’m into well-prepared hearty greens.

And when I say well-prepared hearty greens, I mean kale or collards that have been cut into a chiffonade. This cutting technique makes it so enjoyable to eat these kinds of salads, and any other technique just doesn’t give as good a result.

Kale Salad with Roasted Persimmons and Citrus Miso Dressing

Ingredients:

• 3 Fuyu persimmons

• 2 bunches of dino (lacinato) kale

• 2 tablespoons of miso (any kind, but I used a pretty light one)

• The zest and juice of a couple of lemons

• Several tablespoons of toasted sesame seeds

• Olive Oil

• Kosher salt

Instructions:

First, roast the persimmons. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Remove the top and center core area of the persimmons, then chop the fruit into pieces that are close to 1/2” cubes. A little smaller and slightly wedge-shaped is also fine. Toss the pieces with a glug of olive oil and a sprinkle of kosher salt. Spread them on a sheet pan and roast them until they are soft and start to brown, about 20 minutes. Stir them once or twice while you’re roasting them. Remove them from the oven and let them cool.

Take two bunches of dino (lacinato) kale, remove the ribs, and cut all the leaves into a chiffonade (as described in the link above), where each ribbon is only about 1/8” wide. (You can then chop the strips crosswise, into smaller pieces, if you prefer your salad in small pieces.) Put the cut leaves in a large salad bowl, and in a separate small bowl, mix up a dressing that’s based on this really simple 2-ingredient one. Measure your miso, zest the citrus you plan to use, add the zest to the miso, and then add the juice to the mixture. Add 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil and mix well. Taste and adjust flavors as needed. Add the cooled, roasted persimmon pieces to the kale. Pour the dressing over the kale and roasted persimmons, toss well, and sprinkle with a lot of toasted sesame seeds (I used about 3 tablespoons, but see what works for you). Toss again and serve!

Bowie Halloween

“So, Wyatt. What are you going to be for Halloween?”

“David Bowie.”

And a lot of times, he added, “I remember the day he died. I was in kindergarten.”

The whole answer is pretty show stopping, and I think it could not be more appropriate for this time of year. But unless Wyatt was talking to a fellow fan, or a person who felt really comfortable talking to an 8-year old about the death of an icon, the conversation often stopped there. Because really, what do you say?

In the last 6 weeks, I have learned a lot about the evolution of David Bowie as a performer, at least from a clothing perspective. We have taken out nearly every book in the San Francisco Public Library System that relates to early 1970s Bowie, as well as ones that go far beyond that era. Wyatt was very clear from the start that he wanted to go with the Ziggy Stardust Bowie, but with the lightning bolt.

“Mom. If I don’t have the bolt, no one will know who I am.”

“Fair point. But technically, the bolt was Aladdin Sane’s makeup. Ziggy had a sun in the middle of his forehead. Are you sure you don’t want to do the sun?”

“YES. Last year I was a galaxy and everyone will think I’m being like an alien or something.”

And so, we opted to exercise poetic license in this costume, merging elements of both characters.

I had no idea that Ziggy Stardust wore an asymmetrical knitted jumpsuit with intricate colorwork by Kansai Yamamoto. But there it was, in the book. And there were all my various colors of fingering weight yarn, and suddenly there seemed no other reasonable option than to make this jumpsuit happen. I had just over a month. Wyatt’s backup plan was zombie, so either way, we’d be fine. But I’d need to make swift and steady progress, I told him (and myself), before we’d buy the wig and face paint for this costume, just in case it started to look like this was too big a task. (I mean, I’m nothing if not practical, right?)

Experience with previous years costumes came in handy for this one. I custom-knit the suit without a pattern, based only on Wyatt’s measurements and my knitting gauge. I know, you’re also shocked there’s no pattern for a child (or adult) sized asymmetrical unitard. I consulted methods on how to make leggings, considered options for how to make the top, and figured I should also steek (cut) the side to add a zipper. We made some modifications (in addition to using simpler olorwork). Because it isn’t 1972, we went with a boy short leg and an above-nipple neckline. More modern and comfortable for this particular 8-year old . It worked, and I’m really proud of how it turned out.

Here are some in—process photos…

Once the knitting was done, we moved on to the wig and face paint practice.

Even better than my being proud of the work I did, Wyatt announced it was epic. And that’s about as high a compliment as he gives.

Here are Wyatt’s thoughts on his costume (typed by himself): Yes I do think it is epic. I love it so much I especially love the wig and I love the whole suit. It’s my best costume ever.

Calico Corn and Second Summer

I’d be lying if I said I like it when the days get shorter and all the summer fruits and vegetables start to be replaced with apples and squash. But it’s happening again, just like it does every year. Fall is here. And if, like me, you are not on board with this seasonal transition, may I recommend a pomegranate or perhaps a fuyu persimmon to take the edge off.

And before you accuse me of hating fall, know there are things I love about it (just not the squash). Take Lambtown. I can’t believe it has already come and gone! Wyatt and I volunteered again in the Wooly Adventures tent. Wet felting, weaving, drop spindling, coloring . . . we pretty much had it all over there. Woven bracelets were definitely the accessory of the weekend, and if I hadn’t been working in the tent, I would have totally made one. It’s such a terrific festival. Always the first weekend in October in Dixon, California. Mark your calendar for next year!

My lunch at Cafe Ohlone last November. So good. A version of the hazelnut chia pudding remains in heavy rotation at our house.

I also like the holidays that sneak up on me in the fall. The ones I know happen, but always forget exactly when they are. This Monday, two-thirds of our family observed Indigenous Peoples’ Day (there was no school for Wyatt, but there was work for Marc). I have two things to share in connection with this holiday. First, the free app: Native Land. It tells you with some accuracy the Indigenous lands you’re on in the United States and Canada (the difficulty of and controversy around mapping Indigenous territories are themselves important discussions addressed in the teacher’s guide on the website). I like this app a lot because the information it provides helps me think about the people who were here first and are still here, as well as how all of us—and the earth—are connected. It’s a great jumping-off point for learning more, too. For example, if you’re in the Bay Area, an easy and delicious way to connect with local Indigenous culture is to visit Cafe Ohlone for an amazing meal.

Second, and along similar lines, our family has adopted different terms for “Fall Things That White People Call Indian.” First, “Indian Corn.” As I told Whole Foods Market a couple of weeks ago, I don’t understand why this term still exists. It’s way past time to move on for several reasons, not the least of which is racism. I proposed that they could change their signage to “Decorative Corn.” I still haven’t heard how they resolved my complaint, but the original sign was gone last I checked. My friend, Susan, helpfully googled “What should we be calling Indian Corn?” Of the various options returned in the search result, she chose “Calico Corn,” and I like it. Following Susan’s example, I googled, “What should we be calling Indian Summer?” Because, again, WHY is this a term? The best answer I found was, “Second Summer.” I’m a fan of this term. If you are, too, I hope that you will use it liberally, even if you’re not having one. As in, “Wow! I thought for sure after that frost, things would warm up again and we’d enjoy a Second Summer.” After all, words matter.

But back to the holiday. This past Monday, Wyatt and I had planned to go downtown to an Indigenous Peoples’ Day celebration at Yerba Buena Gardens, but sometimes, it takes longer to sew your own flannel race car pajama bottoms than you think it will. This fact is especially true when it’s your first pair. So Wyatt sewed, and I consulted and assisted where needed (while knitting his David Bowie Halloween costume—a custom-fit asymmetrical unitard inspired by this tour photo).

Before we get to the pajama pants sewing, though, I need to take a moment with a photo that popped-up in my feed on Monday. It could not have been more perfectly timed. Please note the sewing-sock-gloves. I can only assume the thinking here was, sewing is work; work means gloves.

Present day: same concentration, but no gloves.

Pants sewn, we grabbed a quick, late lunch, and headed for a hike at San Bruno Mountain instead of going downtown. On our hike, we watched for birds we could appreciate but mostly not identify, enjoyed plants some of which we could name (thanks Presidio Nursery Team), and followed the paths away from other people so it felt like we were the only ones in the park. We stayed until just before dusk, and it was absolutely beautiful.

Recology Tour

What was I talking about before I headed off on a summer tangent? Oh, that’s right—trash. I have more to say about trash.

Since Wyatt was tiny and we did our Spring Break Factory Tours, he has wanted to tour Recology. Recology describes itself as “an integrated resource recovery company providing compost, recycling and disposal services to homes and businesses in the Western United States.” To us, it’s where Cam, the guy who picks up our landfill/recycling/compost, works. It’s where artists in residence create the work they present to the community. And it’s the place we affectionately call the dump. When I was setting up our tours that spring, I called Recology and learned that they required all tour participants to be 3rd grade or older—8 or 9 years old. So we began our first age-milestone-countdown. And you can bet we were on the first tour that was available after Wyatt’s 8th birthday.

Recology offers tours of their facility on Tunnel Avenue on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Tours of Pier 96, where they actually sort everything, are offered only on Wednesdays, so we of course booked a Wednesday tour (after getting permission for Wyatt to miss school that day).

Part of artist Alicia Escott’s exhibit earlier this year.

I don’t have many photos—tour rules require you to watch where you’re walking and keep your phones put away. To see the work they do there—to begin to grasp the manual and computerized state-of-the-art sorting they accomplish and fathom how much trash we produce on a daily basis —you’ll need to make a reservation and go on a tour yourself. It’s an astonishingly good way to spend a Wednesday morning. Even though we were already working towards minimizing waste, this tour made us more acutely aware of the problems of waste, especially plastics. (Just a heads up, it is particularly demoralizing to go grocery shopping right after this tour.) Since the tour, I’ve become far more vocal and proactive in contacting companies about their choice of packaging. Maybe you will notice a shift in your outlook and behaviors, too.

The tour starts in the learning center with a short video about how Recology works. After the video, there’s a question and answer session, and the learning specialists are amazing. One of the men on our tour had brought a bag of all the trash he was unsure about—was it to be recycled? Or was it destined for landfill? He asked about every single piece, even after the educators gave us the general rules about how to think about what goes where. And they answered all his questions. Recology is truly on a mission to educate. Some tour participants asked where internationally Recology sells and sends its recycling (they’re not telling). After having walked through the sorting facility at Pier 96, all of us on the tour had begun to really grasp how recycling is way better than not recycling, but because plastics basically live forever and cause so much pollution, recycling isn’t really a long term solution to our trash problem.

Here are the notes I took during the question and answer session in the learning center, and after the tour at Pier 96:

Every day in San Francisco, Recology picks up 650 tons of recyclables, 700 tons of compost and 1200 tons of black bin “londfill,” 60% of which is recyclable (note: we all need to get way better at sorting our trash).

Recycling/Blue Bin: Clean paper, glass, hard plastic, cans, coffee cups, milk containers.

STOP WISH-CYCLING: Wish-cycling is where you say to yourself, “This is totally recyclable!” and stick it in the blue bin, sometimes without really thinking, and sometimes just to make yourself feel better, hoping that it actually is recyclable. The reality is that when you put non-recyclable things into the recycling stream, it “pollutes” the recyclables—making things that would have been recyclable too dirty to be recycled. Consider a piece of cling film full of gooey food that then gets all over the previously clean paper in the recycling bin. Now that paper can’t be recycled. Wish-cycling is a problem.

Compost/Green Bin: Food, soiled paper, garden clippings

“Biodegradable/Plant Friendly” language on packaging does NOT mean it is compostable. That kind of wording is nonsense marketing language. Check if the packaging says “compostable.” If it does, then it is. Cardboard coffee cups and milk cartons are actually coated in a thin layer of plastic, so they will NOT compost. That’s why they go in the blue bin.

Black Bin: Everything else. Especially things like strings and things that could get caught in the sorting equipment. Chip bags, loose or dirty bags, all that stuff goes here.

If you take your stuff to the dump (like I did, during spring cleaning), you’ll notice there’s a special section for things that can be reused, repurposed, or reimagined into art. In addition to running the art program, Recology also works with the St. Vincent De Paul organization to reuse items that are still good. A lot of the things I brought to the dump ended up in this area.

Here are some photos from the most recent Recology Artists In Residence (AIR) Exhibit. The next show is the weekend of September 20, 2019.