Beckett's Journal

It's been a crazy time. I say that a lot these days, but it always seems to be true. I've taken on some freelance illustration work, I've taken on some volunteer graphic work, and of course the boys are two-some-odd now, so they use up 98% of my time. They're so active I keep wishing I could bottle some of their energy for myself. Sounds rather vampiric, though, so maybe not...

Still, they're growing so perfectly; they have so much energy, heal so quickly (thank god) and don't seem to have any of these stupid aches and pains and lumps and bumps that come with advancing age. The other day they were eating dinner after a long busy day when they refused to take a nap, so they were running low on energy, heads drooping in their chairs. I swear that after about three bites of food, I could see the food energy literally hit their systems and revive them up to normal (hyper) energy levels in about 20 seconds flat. It was amazing and rather scary at the same time. I wish I had that new-body energy and enthusiasm for life, everything is so exciting and fun.

Paul had last week off, since his company shipped off their big video game and everyone was really burned out. One of the benefits of working for a smaller company is that the company prez can tell all of his people to go ahead and take a week off after they've all been working like crazy and actually finished a good game. So what does Paul go and do with part of his week off? He goes and sets it up for _me_ to go off alone for two nights at a B&B in Montara, just north of Half Moon Bay, just so that I could have a break from everything here. He deliberately took on the boys alone for two nights and a day so that I could have some time without any demands on me. What a great guy.

So for the few days before taking off, I went a little nuts trying to get the monthly newsletter for the Tri-City Moms of Multiples done. First month since I took over the editorship, so of course it took way longer with lots more frustrating finagling to get it done than it should have. But it's done, it's out, and I'll get better at it in the next few months. I hope. Also worked on the cover for Urban Tapestry's CD cover, which I should have gotten further along on, but didn't. There are always so many shoulda's, woulda's, coulda's, that I can go crazy trying to get it all done. Hell, I'm doing good to get the laundry done.

Anyway, off I drove through ugly Bay Area traffic to Half Moon Bay, drove up the coast to Montara where my Bed and Breakfast place was, checked in, had tea and cookies with the couple who run the place, then tried to relax in my room in the Big Comfy Chair that was large enough for three people. Only problem was that I couldn't remember how to relax. So after awhile I pulled myself together, went back out and drove into Half Moon Bay to search out some dinner. All of Main Street in HMB was blocked off. Lots of black smoke billowing from right downtown. I parked and walked closer to see what was going on, not because I wanted to rubberneck, more just because I couldn't believe that part of downtown was burning; I could see the flames shooting up three stories tall. A huge fire was raging in one of the oldest stores in downtown; I later found out that Cunha's General Store burned down. That place had been there since around 1910. End of an era.

So I left HMB, drove north and had myself a great crab and steak dinner all by myself. It _was_ a bit weird eating in a nice place all alone, but it was so quiet, so leisurely, so good to just really enjoy food without having to rush through it before the patience of two two-year olds is up (which at last reckoning was about fifteen minutes). And then I sat on the dark beach in the cold for awhile listening to the waves. Shivered my way back to my room, had a long hot shower to warm up again and read blissfully in my big comfy bed for a few hours before sleep. Ahhh.

A whole day just to do whatever I wanted, in one of my favorite areas along the California coast. What to do? After a fancy breakfast served to me in solitary splendor at the B&B, I hopped in the car and started driving around. I first stopped by Robert and Betty's house in Montara, despite myself. I didn't end up knocking on the door; I drove by (twice) and took a picture of Betty's dream house. It's a wonderful place that Rob and Betty fixed up several years ago, and Betty had it painted in a great set of gothic colors. They lovingly called it Gashleycrumb, after Edward Gorey's Gashleycrumb Tinies. A great eclectic sprawl of a weird house perfectly suited to Betty's odd tastes. It still looks wonderful and weird, and I still can't believe that Betty's gone. I couldn't bring myself to ring the doorbell, since the car in the drive wasn't familiar and even if Rob had kept the house and was home I couldn't imagine what in the world I could say... Sorry Betty's gone? Sorry I haven't kept in touch? Sorry you've had to go through such a tragedy? How lame is that? Hey, Robert, you're a great guy, I'm so sorry Betty died. I really miss her and her wacky way of looking at life.

Maybe it's just a measure of my own long-standing social ineptitudes that I couldn't ring the bell. It wasn't that I didn't care. I'm glad the house looks so good; Betty would approve.

So I went for a drive up and back down the coast between Half Moon Bay and Pacifica, through the Devil's Slide area. A great twisty windy stretch of Highway 1 that washes out periodically and has an alarming fatality rate due to the narrow road, no shoulder and sheer cliffs. I drove fairly carefully with thoughts of the fleeting nature of life and its unpredictability. I thought that I really didn't want my wonderful boys to not have a mommy. Can you tell I was missing them? I ended up back in Half Moon Bay eventually, and went and did some frivolous shopping; got some yarn from the wonderful yarn store, got some toys for (all) of my boys, and went and had lunch at the coffee joint where we all used to go for lunch when I was working in Half Moon Bay. Went back to my room for awhile and read blissfully in The Big Comfy Chair for several hours. Ah, to read a book in one sitting again!

Headed back out in search of dinner, and ended up having crab cakes at one of my favorite small places in Half Moon Bay. Still felt a bit strange to be eating out by myself, but I felt oddly free at the same time; I really didn't care what anyone thought, and I really enjoyed my food. Back to my room, read another (!) book in The Big Comfy Chair, then snuggled into my fluffy bed. I sometimes end up having internal debates between my more fanciful 'psychic' side and my more skeptical scientific training when I have enough time alone, and I guess a day and a night were enough to bring it out again. Old houses are weird, though. They do have personality, and this B&B was no exception. I slept well despite feeling like the house had had some unhappy events in its past. Later found out it been a nursing home in the twenties. And what was it with that huge 20 foot hedge made of Monterey Pines? What did they not want people outside to see going on in that huge house with all the oddly shaped little rooms, back in the twenties when they planted those trees? Hmm.

So I ended up driving back home the next morning after another splendid breakfast in solitary splendor, back to the chaos of my regular life, much to my relief and chagrin. After all these years of having to live with myself, I still haven't figured out if I just have a natural bent towards being melancholy when left to my own devices, or I just generally feel happier when I'm around the people I care about, but I was very happy to come home and immediately go out for the rest of the day with Paul and the boys.

It's comforting to realize that even though life is crazy and hectic and sometimes I really do need a sanity break away from it all, in the end I do freely choose this crazy life; I love watching the boys discover new things and I take on too much stuff and have too many projects going. I live in a fairly messy, rather chaotic house where I never have the time or inclination to tidy it up as much as I think I'd like. I never have as much 'free' time as I think I'd like, but really, I fill up the time I have with things I've chosen myself. Not a bad life, I think. If I had to die tomorrow I'd have regrets for leaving my boys and all the wonderful people in my life, and all the things left undone, but I wouldn't have many regrets for the choices I've made along the way. Nice to have enough time once in a while to slow down enough to realize it, too. That's a really nice gift, that is. Thanks, Paul.