All of October... Pumpkins, Horses and Cardinals, oh my!
The first weekend found us in San Francisco. Our mission was to see the Blue Angels performing at Fleet Week. Technically we did see them, buzzing above the skyline through the clear October sky. But there wasn't a parking spot in a five mile radius from the piers. After a fruitless search that took us up and down every single street in the city, we gave up. Traffic was terrible, so we detoured to Union Square where we strolled and shopped, and ended up at the Cheesecake Factory for a delicious dinner. While it was no aerial extravaganza, our date in the city was a lot of fun.
Besides, the Angels were performing that Sunday, too. The only catch? Our friend Danika and her husband Peter were throwing a co-ed Baby-Que. We swung in to say our hellos, hug Danika, give them our gift (plush Bambi and Thumper for Baby Balland), and then Jon gave me the signal. It was time to go. Then a funny thing happened. Jonathan grew a tremendous conscience. He acknowledged that our presence at the party meant a lot to Pete, and that friends are more important than second trips to the city. The ribs were delicious, the cookies were yummy, and Jon won second place in one of the baby games. Another great day.
Somewhere along the way I was unable to continue coaching the girls' volleyball team at Livermore High School. Never mind that I had been there three to four days a week all through tryouts and almost halfway into the season. It's a political thing. And, while I understand the district's paranoia about who is allowed access to the campus and to students given the terrible tragedies at the Amish schoolhouse and at the high school in Colorado recently, it's hard not to be there with the girls I'd grown so fond of.
The good news is that my evenings were freed up by the lack of volleyball practices. I was able to clean and even cook. One afternoon I spent scrapbooking for the first time in ages! It felt good to be spending time with Jonathan more. We went to the movies, The Illusionist was wonderful, Flicka made me laugh and cry. We saw Flicka at The Vine in Livermore and were two of only seven people in the theater. I sincerely hope that the city makes decisions that will keep The Vine in business once the new theater opens only blocks away. My vote is to start showing classic movies, much like The Stanford Theater in Palo Alto does. I'd be there all the time.
Jon has traveled twice this month, just quick trips. On the most recent one, however, he was stuck in Chicago overnight because of the weather. That was a bummer. But usually he wrangles it so he can be home within 36 hours of departure. He misses me.
I've also been riding religiously once a week. It's a spectacular feeling, moving with the motion of the horse. I usually ride a beautiful horse named Hollywood. He's tall and spirited, and he cheats a little during my lessons, reacting to my teacher's voice commands before I have a chance to use my heels and calves. But I'm learning so much so fast! A couple of weeks ago I began cantering for the first time. I am on a lunge line, a rope that Mallory, my instructor, holds onto and is attached to Hollywood's bridle. We move in a 20 m circle around her. The canter is quite a bit faster than the trot I've become so used to. And it will take some time to learn the correct position of my upper body, the exact tension I need to maintain on the reins. Yet, I've already become attuned to the rolling, flexing motion of Hollywood's body. I already trust him. Riding has been a miracle for me, so centering and soothing. I love every minute, from the tacking and grooming beforehand to the rub down I give him when we're through. The sweat and horsehair and the clicking of the metal scraper as I scoop his hoofs clean. I love it all.
On Sunday we got together with the YaYas and Amy's family for Ames' 22nd birthday. Brunch with her folks was fantastic, as always, because we all laugh so much. But Cindy and I pulled off our first absolute surprise for Amy earlier in the week. I picked her up around 6:00pm and we drove down to Santa Cruz with orange daisies and a box of animal crackers. I'd called Mount Hermon that afternoon and, by the grace of God and a guy named Tim, had been able to set up a reunion at the camp fire. Another guy named David met us and led us to the campfire pit, helped us set up and find a place to hide, and then conspired with us to get Amy down there a little early so we could complete our mission.
Cindy and I were huddled in the cool, damp darkness of the Santa Cruz Mountains, just beyond the ring of light from the fire. Amy walked up oblivious, saw the flowers, still oblivious, read the card... saw 'YaYa!' written at the bottom and gasped. We shot out at her from the trees, screaming and waving our arms. There were happy tears and lots of hugs. She'd had no idea. We stayed long enough to watch a couple of ridiculous skits and to sing some crazy camp songs as loud as we possibly could. It felt good to belt out the zany verses about xylem into the chilly night air, the voices of a new group of sixth graders braiding around ours.
The pumpkins staying in the back of my Jeep for the rest of the week, bumping around and squeaking as their skin contacted the plastic insides of my car. Obnoxious, sure. But I was so tired at the end of each day that I just couldn't remember to take them out.
And beyond work was Jon's final trip of the month, to Baltimore, and the World Series was raging in Detroit and St. Louis. Mom and I surprised Dad last week by showing up at his school with big red signs covered with pictures of his favorite Cardinal players. We bounced in shouting and smiling at the end of his school day and gave Twinkies to the kids in his class while campaigning for their support of the Cardinals. It was a tremendous surprise, and all Mom's idea.
The Series itself was terrific to watch, especially Game 4. I won't go into detail, because I'm just knowledgeable enough about baseball to keep from looking like a complete moron, but I did embarrass my dad by asking things like, 'What position does Pujols play?' and 'Is that Carpenter guy any good?' While Jon was in Baltimore, I hung with the folks, shouting things at the TV and listening to Dad expound upon every single play of the game. What amused me (and impressed me) most was the way he'd pause the Tivo after a hit or a save, tell Mom and me about some obscure piece of strategy or some similar play famously made twenty-odd years ago. Then he'd continue watching... and the announcers would say exactly what Dad had said to us. It happened again and again. Honestly, my Dad should work for the network.
So, the Cards won and Dad jumped up and down. Eckstein (or 'Ecky' as Mom calls him) took home MVP of the series, and so she jumped up and down. I took crazy photos of them standing near the television pointing to the trophy. It was a tremendous day in the Pancoast house.
Yesterday we went downtown (after waking up around noon) and had lunch and took a peek at the Christmas ornament store that opens at about this time every year. That's right. We skipped right over Thanksgiving, before Halloween even actually happened, and began planning for Christmas. Each of us found a new ornament. Meanwhile across town, Dad was making his usual threat not to put up Christmas lights or the big Christmas tree this year. And, as usual, Mom and my brothers managed to talk him out of that idea. In fact, the Christmas lights were put up that very day!
So, we've done everything this month. Cheered teams to victory, picked pumpkins from our favorite patch, hung with friends and family, watched movies, got very much into costume, partied, rubbed our hands in pumpkin guts and tried a new place to eat (Woks Up in Dublin is totally worth a try). My favorite month is drawing to a close, and my only regret is trying to cram all this exciting stuff into one single blog entry. I'd like to promise more (better) postings next month, but I am absolutely at the whim of time and stress. Here's hoping that I'll find the patience and inspiration to be more interesting more frequently in the weeks to come.