Howdy Neighbor

Our house in Maine sat on 1.6 acres and was surrounded by trees, bushes, gullies.... space. Here in NoCal, we are on, what the locals consider, a large lot with a spacious backyard and room for a second garage behind the current one. Several of our neighbors actually build second homes on the same backyard space. So when I start complaining about being so close to our neighbors, the locals don't understand. Mark and I have developed a little morning routine.... when he is ready to leave for work on his bike at o'early o'clock, I (in my pj's with wild hair and half closed eyes) stand on the deck holding his water bottle and saddle bag. He has to give me a kiss before he gets each item (I know, I know..... just TOO cute). Well, in the "winter" when it was "cold" outside, our neighbors kept their windows closed and curtains shut. So I felt pretty private standing out there. Now that we are well into spring and it is warmer, the neighbor has his window open. I must tell you about this window....... it is 19.8 feet from the edge of my back door to his window frame (I measured when he wasn't home). There is a cement driveway and a small bit of weeds between the window and my door. So NOTHING obstructs his view.... OR his HEARING! All of a sudden I realized how LOUD I was talking to Mark each morning. I'd say, "Do you think you are getting away from here THAT easily?" or "Come back here you hunk of burnin' love"..... you know, silly married stuff. Oh dear. While I feel it is important to be neighborly, I was a bit embarrassed that I was revealing TOO much neighborly-ness. So, this morning, I dragged Mark OFF the deck and INTO the laundry room (our NoCal version of a mud room)  before smacking and whispering. Mark told me not to worry as the neighbor was in the shower and probably couldn't hear us.. Oh dear - TMI.
Daisy is also learning to become more neighborly..... or not. She likes to go out in the afternoon to "patrol" HER yard. She watches for other cats and critters running them out of HER space. Then she can grab a salad (from the lawn) and a bit of sunbathing before she comes back in to cool off. One morning, a new neighbor came by for breakfast....

As you can see, this neighbor LIKES breakfast.... AND elevenes..... AND lunch......AND dinner...... He/she heard that Daisy was having Chicken Feast with Gravy for breakfast and thought to stop by to share. Daisy was NOT impressed and did NOT want to share. She yowled and howled and he/she just kept asking politely to come in for a bite. I finally couldn't take it and scared them both away... the neighbor sadly waddled off the deck with a wistful look over his/her shoulder. Daisy ran to another window to make SURE he/she left.
We are all still adjusting to being a part of a close community.

CA News and Weather and Traffic

I usually start the day sitting at the counter and drinking coffee and listening to NPR while I try to wake up. We have the usual world and national news and California news. But it is not the same as NPR news in Maine. California is the size of a small country and is often in national news. So, we have world news.... and national news with California in many stories.... and California news. Our radio station is not just a San Jose station, but a "Bay Area" station. I'm still not sure what that includes. It seems to be a HUGE area. So our local news includes murders in Oakland (45 min to 1 hour away), San Francisco events (1 hour away), Morgan Hill and Gilroy information (45 minutes south).... I need a map next to my coffee cup just to understand where events are happening. And then there is the weather report..... Sunny, partly sunny, partly cloudy with sun in the afternoon, a small chance of rain and then sunny. Mark says that they record a standard spring-summer-fall weather report and just run that until the "bad weather" of winter arrives. Then they add "chance of rain" and "cold" to the standard report. Now, I must confess, I am not really complaining. In fact, when it is "cold" (mid 40's) in the morning, I shiver and look for warm sweaters.
The best part of the news is the traffic report. Have you ever noticed, when you travel to new cities, that the traffic report is like listening to a foreign language? When in Denver, we used to hear about "slowing in the Mousetrap". I drove into Denver MANY times and NEVER saw any mice or traps. Here, it is all numbers and bridges and towns in the "Bay Area". So I hear "slowing on the 580 West" and "congestion on the approach to the San Mateo bridge" and "the 880-280 intersection is backed up". I don't usually listen. I don't know where these places are and I am driving less. But then I went on the Quilt Shop Hop...... And the other morning, I heard "slowing on the 4 in Antioch". I'VE BEEN THERE I announced to Mark. "What?" I've been ON the 4 IN Antioch. That is SO cool. Mark wasn't as enthusiastic about it as I was. I now pay attention to the traffic report - I KNOW where the 880 meets the 280 and I've driven on the ONE highway that brings traffic from Livermore into the "Bay Area" - the 580 - which connects into the 680 that feeds into the 880 and then the 101 or the 280, depending on your destination. The number soup can be confusing to the listener, but for us EXPERIENCED Bay Area residents, it all makes sense.

T42

Mark and I feel that it is important for couples to do things together. So when I needed to go to a fabric store this weekend, he came along. And, as a good wife should, when he asked me to go for a bike ride, I agreed. Then he elaborated that he wanted to take the new-to-us tandem for a test run. He has been "fixing" it up for me - upright handle bars so I don't have to bend over, big bouncy seat so I won't get a tender tush, cute handlebar grips so I can look stylish while being dragged around town, and a lower gear thing-a-ma-bob so we won't go fast. So with all this invested in the bike and Mark's willingness to stand around JoAnn Fabrics while I fondle and peruse, I felt I couldn't say no. Now,  a little background information...... you don't just jump on a tandem and ride off into the sunset. There are JOBS and TRAINING involved. The person in the front is the Captain and the person in the back is the Stoker. I am - you guessed it - the Stoker. Or, more appropriately, the Stoker-In-Training or SIT. As the SIT, I must NEVER NEVER take my feet off the pedals and NEVER NEVER tip or wiggle - but sit up STRAIGHT with my weight in the middle. And I am supposed to use the bell (which we don't have yet) to warn people we are coming and to signal when we are going to turn. As the Captain, Mark is supposed to steer, change gears, TELL me when we are going to coast ( and not pedal), TELL me when we are hitting a pothole, TELL me when we are going to stop or turn or whatever. I have been told my duties - Mark studied it all online for weeks before we even got the bike and gave me all the details. But knowing your job and fulfilling it successfully are two different things.
Mark decided not to have our test run on the streets as our stopping and starting routine is still a bit shaky and falling down in front of speeding cars is not very healthy. So we headed for the Guadalupe River Trail. The trail runs along the Guadalupe River which most of the year is not very river-ish, but more rivlet. I'm sure it is polluted as sections smell like a sewer and signs are posted warning you not to eat the fish which are full of mercury. The herons and egrets obviously can't read as they seem to like dining along its banks. But it is pretty and used by runners, walkers and bikers. Unfortunately for us, it is not  all paved...... So here is the test ride - Mark is hunched over the handle bars looking like a Tour de France rider...... I'm sitting bolt upright looking like...... a Tour de Farce rider. But I'm smiling as it is a lovely day and a nice breeze is blowing. Our start-off procedure goes like this - Mark says "1, 2, 3" and on 3, he pushes off and I'm supposed to start pedaling like mad. Then he hops onto both pedals, wiggles the front wheel a bit and we head out. Sometimes he forgets he is supposed to TELL me when he wants to coast and all of a sudden, my feet can't pedal and jerk back. We maneuver through traffic and get to the trail. Phew, not dead yet. Now we are on the trail and it is paved and we are rolling along and I am looking around and enjoying the view and I lean out to see what is in front of us and Mark hollers "DON'T TIP FOR GOD'S SAKE". So I quick sit up again. Oops. A bit of bike wiggle as Mark tries to keep us upright..... I realize that if I want to see OVER his back and head, I must NOT lean to the side but must STRAIN my neck to peak over his head. Then we come to the end of the pavement and hit gravel...... slippery gravel..... Oh dear....... I don't move a muscle but barely turn my head side to side to see the egrets, herons and hawks watching us and, I'm sure, getting a good chuckle. Then, just when Mark seems a bit more confident on the gravel, we hit dirt..... dried mud in DEEP ruts. Oh dear again...... and I can FEEL Mark's tension as we twist our way around the worst of it. No looking at ANYTHING in this stretch.....feet on the pedals..... perfectly still so he won't tip us over.....Then back on gravel. Whew. Mark got me squishy grips for my handlebars. I now know why they need to be squishy - I squeeze the HELL out of them. And they are white which matches my knuckles. The path goes on and on...... and on..... and this nice bouncy seat is NOT padded and my butt bones are getting sore. So I mention this to Mark who quickly agrees to turn around. We dismount to do this as we can't turn on gravel yet. Then, on the way back, I get to practice some of my other stoker skills. Like warning people ahead of us that we might run them over by accident. Now, we don't have a bell yet. So I improvise and turn into a Stoker doorbell.... DING DONG DING DONG (which means "If you value your life, get into the ditch QUICK). As we fly past, I call over my shoulder (withOUT leaning to the side) "We don't have our bell yet" (as if they could care.... they are probably just grateful we didn't kill them).  Mark, the Captain, decides that this time we will go UNDER the roads rather than across them the way we did on the outward bound trip. Fine, I think. Less cars, curbs, death....But the underpasses slope down rather quickly and we are FLYING under the road. My feet can't stay on the pedals that are zooming around. How do the Tour boys do it? I try to get back on the pedals and they whack my feet. OW. So I just stick my legs out to the side and wait for them to slow down. And we pass under the road and start up the other side. Which is an up..... and my feet are still sticking out...... and Mark is desperately trying to haul us up... and he says "Are you pedaling?" Oh, right...back to work. So I explain why and at next underpass, he shouts "COASTING" as we start down..... and then at the bottom, "Staart pedaaaaaling......NO, NOT SO FAST!! Go EASY. Yes, that's it". And then at the sidewalk..... "We are going to stop......stopping.....stopping....." Now, I have to tell you, we are NOT stopping and the curb is getting closer and the cars are whizzing by and we are NOT STOPPING and I am gripping my squishy handlebars and.....I TAKE MY FEET OFF THE PEDALS TO PUT THEM ON THE GROUND TO STOP US FOR GOD'S SAKE and we stop before I can do this. The bike is wiggling and tipping slightly and Mark is frantically trying to keep it upright and not saying a word. We get on the street headed for home. I get to signal our turns - my left arm stuck way out straight frantically waving (GET OUT OF OUR WAY YOU IDIOTS - CAN'T YOU SEE THAT WE HAVE TO GET HOME) as we turn left. And then, there it is.... our little Mouse House. And I can put my feet on non-gravely ground and limp away in one piece. In our debriefing later, Mark admits that it was a bit tense. That riding on gravel and rutted mud is not fun. But that once we got going, it went pretty well. "But honey. We have to practice the stopping and starting a bit more, don't you think?" Right........ On our counter I found a pamphlet for the Tandem Club of America - An International Organization of Tandem Enthusiasts. I don't think we will join..... at least not for now.

Hop Shopping

Because I wasn't a "quilter" in Maine, I'm not sure if they have the quilting event called a Shop Hop. These marathons are very big here with one about every other month. A shop hop is a coordinated effort by an area's quilt stores to get customers in to buy stuff. Quilters are very good at buying stuff whether they need it or not. So, at one of the Wednesday meetings, my partner in crime, Julie (she got me into quilting) and another partner, Susan decide to spend a day hopping from shop to shop. This particular shop hop is in the northern East Bay area and goes to places I've never been - a bit like Star Trek. I offer to drive - I have a comfy car, I want to learn my way around the area, I have Garmin Nuvi so we won't get lost, I'm a control freak - all the usual reasons. Now, the newspaper that describes the shop hop lists the 23 - that's right, 23 - stores that are participating. The store farthest north is in Winters and the farthest south is in Hilmar. I realize that you nonNoCals have no IDEA where these places are. And neither do I. But Google Maps says that it is 150+ miles between these towns and would take 2.5+ hours to just drive from one to the other with no stops. So you can see, that covering ALL 23 stores will be a real task. So the stores have spread the fun over 2 weekends (they count Thursday through Sunday as a weekend). We will only spend one day hopping. To do this efficiently, I spend several hours mapping our route. You would think that this is a military campaign. And it is, a bit. The newspaper gives you hints on how to have a "successful shop hop": #1 Do your homework, plan your trip. CHECK! #2 Save gas, carpool. CHECK! #3 Snacks! (they put in the exclamation point, seriously!) CHECK! #3 Map, the newspaper has a small nondetailed map in it. CHECK! #4 Simplify, bring preprinted address labels CHECK! #5 Laugh, have fun along the way. CHECK! And something that they DON'T mention but that every Hopper knows, is a large bag to carry all your purchases in. And in this bag is the LIST of all the stuff you think you need to finish ALL the projects you collected from the last Shop Hop but haven't finished. AND little bits of the fabric from these projects that you need to match or find or just want to hold for security. So, here's how it works...... you go to the first store on your itinerary. There, they have you register (hence, the address label so you don't waste time WRITING when you could be SHOPPING) and you get a "passport" with all the stores on it. Each time you arrive at a store, you get the passport stamped. At the last store you go to, you turn the passport in. All TOTALLY COMPLETED passports - yes, that's a passport with 23 stamps - are put in for a drawing. The Grand Prize this year is.... get this.... (and I'm quoting from the newspaper) $100 Gift Certificate from EACH OF THE 23 SHOPS ON THE HOP! So once you have purchased stuff at all the stores and traveled miles and miles and hours and days and you win...... you get to do it all over again! Oh boy!! The second and third prizes are $50 and $25 gift certificates at each store..... Hmmmmm. Each shop also has a basket put together with "goodies" - fabric, books, patterns, notions, tea, cookies, candy (quilters LOVE to snack). When you enter the store and get stamped, you fill out your name and phone number (not your address - so you need ANOTHER set of labels or you are forced to waste time writing) and put your ticket in a box for the basket. We were told at one store that some hoppers come in, get stamped, put the ticket in the box, get the goodie bag and leave for the next store. Cheaters!! Where is the fun in that? No idle browsing through racks and racks of books, patterns, notions. No fondling of bolts and bolts of fabric. No chit chatting with the store owners and other hoppers. I know that this goes on because I heard funny noises coming from an aisle of bolts behind me. When I peaked around the corner, a woman was slowly running her hand up and down a length of fabric and making little moaning noises. SERIOUSLY! And Susan sat by the cash register at every store and chatted up the owner about all the details of her life and business. And Julie examined every pattern in every store.... well, almost every pattern. Now, about the goodie bag... when you arrive at a store, you are sent to the Shop Hop check-in desk. At the desk, you get stamped, register for the basket and get a small bag full of stuff. It's a bit like trick-or-treating for quilters. The bag may contain little bits of fabric (I'm talking 3"x3"), candy (of course), bumper stickers, business cards with discount coupons for your next visit, a quilt pattern for a block that is part of the the BIG Shop Hop Quilt that each store made. Most of us just put each little bag in our big bags, giggling that we would open them all when we got home tonight. The fun never ends....
On the appointed day, the ladies arrived at my house. We decided not to be too crazy about this and start at a decent hour.... So we got on the road at 10:30am. FIRST SHOP HOP NO NO. You MUST start early to get the maximum number of stores in for the day.  I decided to start with the 2 stores in Fremont - 20 minutes away - so we could jump right in. What I didn't realize, is that each store has snacks at each check-in sight. Oooooo, Sure I'll have one of those brownies as I shop. I was feeling a bit peckish. When hopping with a group, it is important to have good hopping manners..... even if you get through the store in 5 minutes, you don't hold onto the store's door handle tapping your foot while the rest of your hoppers chat and peruse and fondle. So I did the store again...... and again..... But once we had been in 2 stores, I got my rhythm and was better behaved. And I did have my list and my bits of fabric. By lunch time (yes, we were hungry despite the brownies and other snacks - after all, hopping is hard work!), we were ready to sit and talk about projects and fondle purchases (lots of fondling in this group) and eat yummy food in a strange town. And then the next store had carrot cake! Perfect for after lunch...
Finally, it was 5:30 PM and we had been to Fremont-Fremont-Danville-Concord-Martinez-Antioch-Brentwood. Susan was pushing for Livermore (it's just down this road and on our way home!). But, alas, all good things must come to an end and the Hop stores closed at 6pm. We got to Livermore at 6:10pm. So we joined commuter traffic and headed home. But there was still the goodie bag adventure to look forward to.....AND the next Shop Hop! I''m starting to plan the route all ready!

A Walled Community

Each week, when Mark and I walk or bike to our Farmers' Market, we pass an empty city block surrounded by a chainlink fence. Inside the fence, you can see cement floors - some with linoleum still on them - and asphalt streets between. I asked my neighbor Ron what the story was behind this space. He said that the city owns the land and used the space for vehicle maintenance. The buildings have been torn down and the property is supposed to be developed into a high rise with stores on the ground floor - a common plan around here. But the current economy has put all that on hold. And then he mentioned that before that, the area was a Chinatown..... This peaked my curiosity. Ron didn't have many details. So I did some research and learned that - Yes. That block was once surrounded by a brick wall that protected a whole community of Chinese families.....
According to a document created for the Society for Industrial Archeology Conference in 2008, the community was called Heinlenville. The San Jose area was once full of many prejudiced people. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, this community lynched 2 men, tarred and feathered another and happily loaded Japanese Americans onto buses headed for internment camps. The anti-Asian sentiment was rampant. Before the Chinatown in my neighborhood, there were two other Chinatowns in San Jose. Both were mysteriously burned. A German immigrant, John Heinlen purchased the block and created a safe place for the Chinese families to live. Mr Heinlen built a new Chinatown entirely of brick despite outrage from the general public. He then rented these buildings to the Chinese. This community continued from 1887 to 1931. Heinlen was a German immigrant who came to California for the gold rush. He and his wife attended a Methodist Episcopal church that taught Chinese children. The church mysteriously burned in 1869. After the second Chinatown mysteriously burned, Heinlen offered some property to the Chinese businessmen. The property (near my neighborhood) also bordered the large homes of many of San Jose's wealthiest members. There was a parade in protest of Heinlen's actions and the city council tried to dissuade him from doing this. He refused.
"At the time, just five years after the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, the prejudice
against the Chinese was intense. And the presence of opium dens and gambling parlors
made it an easy target for newspapers who dubbed Heinlen “Ah Heinlen”. Heinlen died in 1903 at the age of 88. None of his seven children married. The Heinlen empire dissolved quickly during the Depression, when his heirs were no longer able to collect rent or pay taxes. The Heinlen Co. went bankrupt, and by early 1932, the City cleared away most of Chinatown, leaving only the temple and a few structures. In 1949, the land became a corporation yard, where the city parked and repaired its trucks." (from the article mentioned) One of the best parts of living in "downtown" (as my SJ friends call my neighborhood) is that it is a mix of so many cultures. We have a Buddhist temple, Latino iglesias, an Afro-American gospel church, a Philippino church and an Islamic center all within a short distance of our home. I can shop at Mi Pueblo or several Asian markets all within walking distance. It makes me realize that the world is a small place. And it is best to get along.


Note: to read the full article about San Jose,click here
(the link is to a Google document and may not open in Safari)

The Happy Farmer

When we lived in Maine, we had our "coffins" for our raised bed gardens. Mark built them, filled them (no easy task as they are 4 ft above the ground and soil is heavy), lovingly planted in them and...... I weeded. We did get tomatoes, herbs, zucchini (who DOESN"T get zucchini) and strawberries. But we also fed many bugs and wild critters in the neighborhood. So now we are in NoCal where the growing season is basically all year round. AND we have a (by NoCal standards) HUGE back yard. So my Happy Farmer is at it again. Only this time, he has made little graves.....

Yes, we now have three "beds" for all sorts of veg to be planted when the soil is the right temperature. Now, you may be squinting at this picture wondering what that little white thing is in the center plot..... And the board-sort-of-thing in the first plot..... well, those are my artistic embellishments. I put a "hand" coming out of the grave and a "headstone" with RIP over another. Mark did not laugh and just quietly took them away. No sense of humor in MY farmer when it comes to serious veg planting. And the circle with the pointy bush? That's our Christmas tree/Rosemary bush that we transplanted minutes before it completely died. The side toward the house is all dead with a few new sprigs bravely sprouting out the top. The remainder of the space is for herbs. Mark now owns cute little red women's rubber gardening clogs (it helps to have little feet and we couldn't find any men ones) that he leaves upside down by the back door. He left them right side up one night and they filled with rain water. He marches out to his patch and studies the soil and checks for weeds. Just to the right of the picture is the section of the garden used for square-foot gardening. Mark has made a very attractive pattern of little squares using bricks that are stacked behind our garage. Each little square will hold a veg and will be harvested and replanted. He even has a book that tells you how to do this. Unfortunately, the NoCal bugs and critters are VERY happy with Mark's efforts. Mark started seeds in little peat pots held in a big tray with a plastic lid and safely growing on our deck. But every time he transplants a baby chardlet, it is quickly eaten. He has sprinkled slug bait around. No change. So he threatened to get some "poison" to kill the whatevers that are eating HIS veg. I vetoed this as I felt it might kill US before any whatevers were harmed. We have also learned that if you plant seeds - even flower seeds - in the ground, you must cover the area with chicken wire. We watched the birds (WHO HAVE A BEAUTIFUL FEEDER FULL OF DELICIOUS SEEDS) pecking in the garden AND flower box and EATING ALL MY FLOWER SEEDS. And the squirrels like to dig in the garden dirt too. But my happy farmer is not daunted. Each weekend, he slips into his little red clogs and surveys his crops. And maybe, if we are lucky, we might even get a veg or two.

NOTE: for those of you not familiar with "The Happy Farmer", check out this 44 sec video. It was a Suzuki piano/violin song our kids banged/scratched out long ago....
Click here to hear

Japantown History

Ron, my neighbor, is a wealth of information about this area. He grew up here and has lots of stories. But when Mark and I walk into Japantown, two blocks away, we are able to read about another side to the stories. Our Japantown is one of three left in the US - one in San Francisco and the other in LA. The members of this community speak about Japantown and its history with pride. I visited the oldest ongoing department store in San Jose - a store in Japantown that sells fabrics (why I was there of course) as well as other Japanese products. The woman working there told me of several of the celebrations that will be happening this spring, summer and fall. Not only are the residents that you talk to informative, but along the street are benches with images and stories carved into their surfaces. One building that I pass every time I walk to the Farmers' Market is the old Ideal Laundry. The "handsome, two-story fireproof brick building, erected at a cost of $30,000" (taken from the story on the bench) was founded by I. Tsurukawa. Brick seemed to be a very popular building material as many of the buildings burned - some due to normal fires and some to arsonists who weren't very friendly toward the Asian community. The building has beautiful blue tiles below the front windows. And its history since the laundry can be seen in the other signs attached to the facade. The before image is from the bench.

Another sad chapter in Japantown's history is the period during WWII. Anti-Japanese and Chinese feelings were always present in San Jose. I'll share stories and pictures of our Chinatown in another blog. But after Pearl Harbor, all Japanese on the West Coast were rounded up and taken to internment camps. In our Japantown, most residents were taken to Heart Mountain concentration camp in Wyoming from 1942 to 1945. And in May, 1943 residents of San Jose passed a resolution opposing the return of the Japanese. An image from granite monument in Japantown:

 

According to Ron and my pet nanny (whose husband is Japanese-American and whose Japanese parents lived in Japantown during this period), once the government released the Japanese and they returned to Japantown, they began to rebuild their community. Many of today's businesses were started with with repatriation monies. And fifty years after the war, Japantown is a colorful center of Japanese culture.... and, of course, food.