Sounds like a nice title for something -- Peppers & Persimmons. Or, perhaps, Persimmons & Peppers. Maybe without the ampersand, and italicized: Peppers and Persimmons ; or, Persimmons and Peppers. The pepper plants have been kind to us this year. Three of four fruits every couple of weeks. The persimmons are slowly ripening on the tree. We're going to have an extra good crop this year.  See you tomorrow.

Molly the Cat is about to run out of food. That means we need to drive over to the coast today. Yay! It'll be a bit cooler. We've had two days of 100+ temperatures. Today is supposed to be the same. The weather guys say we may have a thunderstorm this weekend, possibly without the rain. Since we're over there, we'll also go on a quest for grass-fed beef liver for the Mama. Her doctor has been monitoring her blood count for the last few months. Yesterday, he finally got worried and has referred her to a blood specialist, which got Mama wanting to eat liver. She's willing to eat beef liver from any market. Not anymore for me. If we have time, I would like to stop at a Goodwill or another thrift shop to check out old, funky jewelry. I haven't found the beads I want for my county-fair bracelet entry. What kind of beads, the Husband asks? I shall know when I see them. Off we go!

This afternoon, I shut the car door while I kinda stood between it and the car. The edge of the door jarred my jaw on its way to its destination. Kinda made the nerves in my skull sizzle. I'm very talented. Fortunately, nothing other than a tiny bit of pain in the jaw for a few minutes. "I don't like it," I said to the Husband as we drove to the produce stand. "You wouldn't like being a boxer then," he said. DAYS 47 to 60 with TILDA-HILDA Did you wonder if Tilda-Hilda and I had stopped riding for the year? Not at all. We're been doing things a bit differently. Three Saturdays ago was the the last time Tilda-Hilda and I went out on the back roads.  Since then, we've been sticking to our neighborhood and an occasional ride to downtown, as my left knee recuperates. Most of our riding had been pedaling three blocks back and forth to Godmother Pat, once or twice a day. She had a horrible accident in July that resulted in the loss of t

It's like pulling taffy today. The words and sentences flowing out of my brain, that is. Maybe it was all the fun I had this weekend—a community music concert in the park on Saturday and a community festival on Sunday. Maybe it was wearing a hat while hanging out in the full sun for two days in a row. Maybe it was that delicious 10-ounce glass of Gillespie Brown ale handcrafted by Twisted Manzanita that I drank yesterday afternoon.  Maybe it's simply that my brain is tired. Let's see how I am tomorrow.

What happened? My serious—as opposed to maybe I'll do it—To-Do-List got very long just now. Yuck. All I can do is do what I can. And, stop now and then and play with Molly the Cat. That's very important for my sanity. I like this photo of Molly. Can you tell it was taken upside-down?  Molly seems to like the camera that way. By the way that fleshy stump next to her is my leg. Until tomorrow.

Hello. I'm participating in a new weekly meme today. The Good. The Random. The Fun.  It's a Monday meme hosted by Random-osity . You blog about a good, random, and fun thing that happened in the past week. Yes, I know today is Tuesday. What can I say. THE GOOD  My high school graduating class—San Benito High School (aka Hollister High School) Class of 1971—established a scholarship about nine years ago. We have the distinction of being the only alumni class at the local high school to sponsor a scholarship, thanks to Rudy, Debbie, and Debbie who had the vision, heart, and diligence to make it happen. In the last eight years, we've given $14,000 in scholarships to 10 Baler graduates. (Baler, or Haybaler, is the high school mascot.) Whooo-hooo! On Saturday we held our annual Class of 1971 Scholarship fundraiser in town. It was another successful luncheon, silent auction, and raffle. Each year, we get a bigger turnout with newer faces showing up. It felt

When you have much to do. Yup. Time flies. Fly, fly, time. Within the next six hours, I plan to do this: Finish the Husband's tunic. All I need to do is attach the sleeves and sides, then hem it up. Make an appetizer.  The Husband and I are going to a party tonight. Fun. Maybe I'll make cheesy olive balls. They're easy to make, but that means going to the store for olives and cheddar cheese. Put together a photo collage.  It's for a luncheon fundraiser tomorrow. I could probably do that after the party, if I print the photos beforehand. Yeah, that's the ticket. Get this post done.  I threw this in so I can feel like I'll have accomplished something once its published.  Always look for the positive, I say. Thank goodness, I finished reading my novel last night, otherwise I'd forget about doing these things I plan to do. Enchanted  August by Brenda Bowen.  Just like the title, the story was enchanting. I could go for either a cup of coffee o

The Mama was playing in the mud this morning. Her favorite thing to do. Okay, she was replanting  Filipino onions, which she does every several weeks. The Mama likes to say, "You cannot fool me." And that's what I say. The Mama cannot fool me. She's playing in the mud and she's having lots of fun out there. Yup, she's still out there as I'm writing this post. While the Mama was playing with her onions, Molly the Cat did her rounds of the backyard. She was late this morning. She sat on the chair, which was once the Mama's favorite chair, for the longest time after breakfast. The Mama asked her, "Are you sick, Molly?  Do you have a headache?" The Mama opened the back door and Molly the Cat jumped off the chair in no time. "Don't go far," said the Mama. I think Molly wanted her photo taken because she kept close to me while I was clicking away by the lemon tree. But, would she look prettily at the camera? Of course, n

I have more like 200+ things on my desk if I were to count individual papers and photographs. My desk was originally a kitchen table, which means chaos rules.  Though I think it's relatively neat at the moment. Okay, five things that are on my desk. Two seeds—an apricot pit and a lemon seed from fruit in our backyard. Well, there aren't any more apricots. The Mama, the Husband, and I happily ate them all. Molly the Cat turned her nose to them. A brown rubber lizard. I got it and several of its siblings more than 30 years ago. I gave the siblings away as trick gifts. Yes, I've scared people with the lizard. It doesn't have a name. I wonder if it would like to be called Buddy.  My address book that fits neatly in my purse, if I remember to bring it.  A paperweight that has a dandelion inside it. The Father-in-law gifted it to me long ago. Recipes for soft gingerbread cookies, lemon-poppy seed quick bread, and a friend's mom's recipe for Spanish rice.

I'm going to the backyard to look for a pretty picture," I said to the Husband this morning, grabbing the camera. I had planned to post part two of my favorite movie characters today. But, I didn't get around to writing it. Lots of other stuff needed to (and still needs to) get written. Soon, part two will come. We need a pretty picture for today. I need to see a pretty picture. As I went down the stairs, I wondered what could I take besides the Mama's roses, daisies, veggies, trees, and other lovelies that the world has already seen. I wanted something different and pretty. I stepped outside. Molly the Cat came over to greet me. "I want a pretty picture. What do you think?" She complained about the bully of a mockingbird squawking menacingly as it swooped at her. I told her to catch the bird. She rubbed her face against geranium petals. Molly is a believer in "Make love, not war." But, she wouldn't mind if I got rid of the mockingbir

Day 28 was on July 4. Tilda-Hilda and I went out with the Husband and his flashy chartreuse bicycle. I wonder if he'll name his cruiser one day. I wasn't going to count this as a work-out ride because we rode our bikes as transportation to two events in town. Then I thought they were separate events at different locations, and we went home after the first one before going out again. So, why not. The first event was the Independence Day Kiddie Parade . You can see Tilda-Hilda and Chartreuse Flash (my name for the Husband's bike for now) at the left top corner in the photo. A couple hours later, we all pedaled downtown to check out the motorcycle rally . Altogether, our bicycling and walking added up to five-and-a-half miles. Day 29 This morning, Tilda-Hilda and I pedaled for a bit over 12 miles in 70 minutes. We went further and longer than I had planned. That's good. It means we can go more than 10 miles without having to go too far away. It was hard gettin

I woke up this morning thinking it was late only to find out that I'd waken up early. The bright light filtering through the side of the curtains faked me out. Just as well. We don't have a clock in the bedroom. So, I use the outside sounds as my gauge to the time. The other morning the early bird started chirping around 4 a.m. How did I know that? Because I went to the bathroom and before heading back to the bedroom, I popped into the office to stick my face right up at the digital clock on the radio. I could have put my glasses on to look down the stairs at the clock hanging in the living room. But, then I'd have had to turn on the light. No, thank you. Too bright. I wanted to fall back to sleep. And, I did to the pleasant song of the early bird. So, today, Tilda-Hilda and I zigzagged through the neighborhoods for a nearly 11 and-a-half mile ride. One hour and five minutes, thank you kindly. Forward, onward, and upward.

Today was watering-the-flowers morning, so Tilda-Hilda and I didn't go out for a ride. Maybe later if I can fix the twist in her tire, which makes her go bump, bump, bump. I didn't think much of it until I looked it up online. Experts say it's not a good idea to ride with a warped tire. The descriptions about what may cause a twisted tire reminds me of panties riding up. Poor Tilda-Hilda! If I can't fix her tire, then she's going to the bike shop tomorrow. Watering the Plants Our county finally imposed restrictions on water use for landscaping during the drought. I think it ought to stay in place even after the drought is over. But, that rant is for another post. Currently, everyone is allowed two days a week to water landscaping, which for us is Wednesday and Sunday. We water everything by hand. It takes longer, but it's more efficient and saves on water. So we think. Because the Mama has a tough time of managing the hose, without spilling water all ov

The greatest thing that happened this past week was Rainy Thursday. It rained throughout the day and night. And, at one point, it came down in buckets. Of course, I had to go outside and take photos. I got totally drenched, and loved every huge raindrop that my tee-shirt absorbed. The Mama loved the rain, too. She was outside when the rain started, and decided to go hang out in the shed as the sky kept crying. On this coming Wednesday's post, I'll share what she did during the rain. Writing Travel Bits Lately, I've been writing descriptions about local places for Mapquest . Once upon a time, I thought I wanted to be a travel writer, but other things came along to drop that thought in the wish bucket. Writing these occasional short pieces is fulfilling that dream. Here are a few of the places I've written about so far: Pinnacles National Park , National Steinbeck Center , San Benito County Historical Park , and the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Joseph . A rock

Who thinks Sunday is the start of the week? Who sees it as the end of the week? And, who shrugs and asks, "Is today Sunday?" "Wake up you sleepy heads!" Molly the Cat meowed rather insistently outside our bedroom door. I was ready to float back to sleep. So much for being lazy this morning. Today, I hope to get the Husband and me out the door to stretch our legs on a nearby trail. I'd like to see the green slopes and wildflowers before they are no longer. All signs say that we'll be going through another year of severe drought. A few weeks back, the newspapers were carrying stories that stated our reservoirs hold only one year's worth of water. In our county, the powers-that-be has decided to continue with educating us about water conservation rather than fining us for excessive use. Unfortunately, the stubborn folks, who don't believe that the drought is horribly bad, will continue to make sure their lawns are green.  For the past two years

The following was written yesterday afternoon (and edited much later) . . .   This is a first for me. Sipping a beer as I tippy-tap out words on the keyboard. This, I'm having -- the beer -- right after drinking a small (which in olden times would've been medium) cup of wonderful coffee. I drink coffee now and then, alas. I like the taste of coffee, as well as the thinking that evolves with the caffeine, but this old body of mine can no longer handle daily consumption of the stuff.  Pobrecita. See, even the little Spanish I know gets evoked in the brain cells. Lately, my morning brew is a cup of boiled water. I'm just not into tea or hot lemon juice right now. For the past week, I've been wanting coffee from Vertigo , a coffeehouse in San Juan Bautista that roasts and grinds coffee beans fresh every day. It's about eight miles, more or less, away. Not far at all, but getting dressed and doing this and that before getting into the car first thing in the mor

Is it redundant to say vintage typewriters? After all, who sells new typewriters these days? For that matter, has anyone invented a new model recently? A girlfriend and I stumbled across this display of typewriters in Downtown Los Altos, California last week. They all looked spic and span. I don't think my fingers are strong enough to make the keys go clickity clack. We have three, maybe four, portable typewriters in the house. One is an electric, two (or one) are (or is) Brother typewriters from the late 1960s, and one is a very old, but not ancient, clunky typewriter like the ones you see in black and white movies. I bought that in a garage sale, thinking I'd use it. Ha! It needed a lot of cleaning so I put it back in its accompanying case. I have no idea where it is now. I took a typing class in high school, which was one of two classes that I learned skills I still use today. The teacher roamed around the classroom, making sure we did not peek at our hands as

My town does not have a bookshop, an art supplies store, or a music store. Once upon a time it had all three. When I was a teenager, I fantasized about one day owning a bookstore with a ceramic wheel in the back so that people who want to play with ceramics can do their thing. I even knew what space in town I wanted to have my bookstore. Sometimes the fantasy of having a bookstore pops up when the Husband and I stumble upon a vacant space on main street or thereabouts. I no longer want a ceramic wheel. But, I do think of offering a service for people to have their packages delivered to my bookstore so that they don't have to fear about them being stolen off their porch. In a tiny way, I am living out my bookshop fantasy by having a virtual online book store at Amazon, which  focuses on books about my town and county, as well as local authors.  I could expand this virtual shop by adding other categories that interest me. Yes, I could. Maybe, I will. I'll put it on my To-Do

I had completed a post for today several days ago. It featured a photo that I hooked up to a photo meme. Then I decided to hook up a photo on my other blog -- Take 25 to Hollister -- to the same meme. So, off came the finished post for this blog. You'll see it later this week. Certainly, I could've posted both, but I didn't want to think about how to handle my visits to bloggers participating in the meme. Should I comment under one blog or both? If done individually, which blogs should I visit as The View from the Top of the Ladder and as Take 25 to Hollister . I just make things more complicated than they need be. Seeking Oompah My goal for 2015 is finding my creative groove again. That is why I'm rambling on the blog today rather than seeing if there are any Modern Family  reruns on TV. Posting on my blogs daily is part of the plan to finding my creative groove, mojo, hoodoo, voodoo, fancy, desire, and plain old oompah.  Of course, once I do my thing for toda

Yesterday, I made bread. White bread, to be precise.  I even followed the recipe, almost precisely, which is pretty good for me. I forgot to add the salt, but that's okay. We already finished one loaf. I thought about putting up the Christmas tree yesterday morning, but chose to bake bread and make carrot and leek soup for lunch instead. I had a yen for freshly baked white bread for the past two days.  And, since I wasn't going to find what I wanted in the local grocery stores or bakeries, I might as well knead one to fulfill my need. Yuk, yuk . I don't make bread much anymore. Not that I was ever a bread baker. I just like pounding the dough. Okay, the kneading. Knead, knead. Pound. Pound, Knead.  Easy pounding. Not like the first time I made bread many decades ago. Imagine me, a 20-year-old college girl living in a second-floor apartment in San Francisco's Richmond district. It's late in the evening. Because I'm either stressed or bored, or both, with