Darin turned 28 on Friday. We attended a little celebration in his honor (though we found later that we missed the actual celebration, it occurred beginning around midnite and stretching on until who knows when). It was nice, we lounged around Heather and Darin's countryside bungalow home and chatted a bit with Zack and Rebecca and (of course) Darin and Heather. Jarom, Bella and Sylvan were the babes of the party and made ruckus wherever they saw fit. Darin painted a marvelous work of prestige with Jarom. We arrived home late, but hey, it was Friday nite.
Saturday Amy and I helped Adie finish moving up to Nevada City. I got to drive a clunker of a truck, one extremely similar to my old friend of years gone by, the 85 Toyota who was more reliable than a faithful steed. The vehicle was rickety (to say the least), but I had a memorable time driving a manual and listening to my music through very minute headphones. At one point a little boy who reminded me of a young version of Adam Partain saw me and pointed in horror and mocking surprise.
I had never been to or through Grass Valley or Nevada City. They are out of the way towns, hidden in some remote distance that only calls to a certain type of individual, where the city folk stay away and cause their unique brand of problem elsewhere, and the enchanted soulful wander in the woods that border the thin fences in their own backyards. Adie has a bottom-floor flat out on a curving road, past the mandolin, with a gate and excited dogs and homemade meditation rooms.
We had a better time than I expected, I suppose. The drive made Amy sick, as it was all on Highway 49 without a strait stretch in sight, but we stayed a while and even slunk through the small downtown streets. I took the kids out for some air while Amy rested, and we stopped in a candy shop and a small bookstore. I've made a new mark on my heart.
On Sunday we drove to Coloma, to revisit the beauty we hurriedly drove aside the day before, and attempted to take some planned family portraits, with Bonny the photographer. As always they were difficult, we came up with a few prospectives, but none in quite the same way the vision had presented itself in the mind. It can't be denied how pretty it was, though. I've always had love for Coloma - how couldn't I? But this autumn festivity was something new to me. I guess I just hadn't ever driven through before at this time of year, with my eyes tuned to see things that really don't last as long as we always like to think. They happen each year, right?! These earthen leafy tones falling like snow from treetop peaks, the brisk weather and green grass with half-overclouded skies. Yes, yes, but each year ticks by, and pretty soon 'each year' becomes 'last year', and we're full of regrets and redrawn visions of the past that we never afforded before. I don't want that kind of memory. I want a sickly full mind, brimming to overflow with love and appreciation and passion, excitement for each and every thing that could possibly make its way into my life.
That same nite I helped Heather with installing her stereo. It was quite the fiasco. I have installed numerous car stereos before, I'll give myself that credit, but never before had I had such difficulty (right?). I attempted removing the dash trim that was bolted in from the rear, obviously not the correct method. Dad came over and helped me to figure out the easiest way to continue, and Monday after work I went to Best Buy to get the proper pieces and mostly finished the job.
So around 12:30 Monday nite, it was complete, though it cost Heather 40 dollars for parts and she insisted on giving me another 30 for my labor. I felt like she got the short end of the bargain. But she was quite glad to have a working CD-playing car stereo, and I was glad to be done (though we'll have to touch up the rough edges later).
I do feel bad, however, because Sunday nite when Dad and I were working on the car, Jarom would come out thrilled as ever, and in my frustration I became angry and shushed him aside, even bringing him into the house at some points to remove him from the scene. Self control!, evening of the emotions!...
Audio: Our Endless Numbered Days|Iron and Wine
Video: Saturday Night Live Goes Commercial
Text: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy|Douglas Adams
My word of the day: segue
[Why: I used to always think this was spelled "segueway" or "segway". Little did I know; I was shocked to find its true spelling.]
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