One More Night

by

Of the dog sitting/house sitting in North Oakland.

Graceland here I come.

I feel quite excited to get back to East Oakland.

Bet you never thought you would hear a girl say that.

Ha.

I am ready to be in my own space and very ready to not be awoken at 4:30 a.m. by an excited little dog with a teeny tiny bladder.

And then again at 5:30 a.m. to feed her.

Once, maybe twice, I have managed to not get up that early to feed the dog, but those were only on days I let her sleep in the bed with me and after two nights of her in the bed I was not having it again.

Twelve days of this little beastie.

I’m about done.

And I like dogs.

The pay was not worth it by far, the effort far outstripped the recompense.

Or so I thought, but tonight as I wheeled up and over 40th street heading to Grand Ave via Linda Street I knew that the pay off was in the getting to know the neighborhood.

Plus, I did have some money immediately in my pocket to help with some essentials, and that was truly a gift.

The fresh strawberries out of the back garden did not hurt either.

I know the neighborhood now well enough for when I do the big commute from Graceland next week.  I know how to get here, and I know where to go to take care of those needs that need to be taken care of on a pretty much daily basis.

I know where I can go do my banking as well.

It was a pleasure to deposit a check into my account.

It was a distinct honor to see in the memo area “AWESOMENESS”.

That made my day.

Getting paid by someone who thinks I am awesome.

Thank you.

I think your kid is awesome too.

Plus she had a two-hour nap today, which in anyone’s book is great stuff.

I finished Angela’s Ashes and flipped through a bunch of cooking magazines (food porn for the sugarless, flourless, meatless, dairy less, egg less lass) and some great books on homesteading and gardening while she slumbered.  That is a great perk to being a nanny, nap-time equals reading time (or writing time, but it is usually more reading time for me, the writing is too often disrupted).

I am ready to attack those raised garden beds at Graceland.

I re-familiarized myself with canning as well.

I don’t know that I will plant enough to warrant needing to can the produce produced, but it was a fun read up and it reminded me how much joy I take in those sorts of things.

I love to cook and despite the dietary restrictions I am really quite good and quite clever as to how I shop, cook, and eat.  I have had plenty of folks eat what I have made and not know that it was vegetarian or vegan.  Or give a good god damn.

If it tastes good that is all the matters.

For me, so much of that has to do with seasonings.

I need salt, pepper, herbs–tarragon, chives, rosemary, basil–garlic, spices–nutmeg, cloves, ginger, cayenne, and most especially cinnamon.  I also really love having raw cocoa powder.

I know how to make things not only palatable, but damn tasty too.

Reading through the cookbooks and the magazines, the gardening tomes and then leafing through some interesting books on Chinese medicine, I see that I have a good grasp on what works well for me.

I am thrilled that I get to have an opportunity to hit the dirt and get my hands in it.

I have no plans for tomorrow, other than taking care of the pup one last day, the owners will be flying into SFO at 7pm.  I will be gone by the time they get back to the house.  I will stay here until 5:30/6pm, have a last dinner here, take the pup for one last walk, tidy up, put the key in the mail slot and get the fuck out.

Aside from that, there is not a lot of the agenda for tomorrow.

A Skype date with a ladybug in Paris and getting myself back to Graceland.

Saturday I will be going into San Francisco and getting my things out of storage and bringing them back to the house.  I will put up my photographs, sort through my notebooks, hang up a few pieces of art, arrange all my bunnies (I have four now, one Jack-a-lope bank I got in Oakland on Telegraph from Scout before it closed, with my bunnies I was nannying at the time, one bunny bank I bought at Therapy on Valencia, one purple set of ceramic bunnies kissing from the flea market outside of Pere LaChaise cemetery when I was there four years ago and stayed in the 20th near the cemetery, and the newest addition–the bright magenta bank I use as a God box that I purchased at a store in the Marais of Paris this go around–on Rue St. Merrie.)

I like bunny rabbits.

I call people bunnies or monkeys.

And I wonder why I am a nanny?

I am also going to get back a quilt that Beth has that I gave her before I left for Paris.  I cannot believe that I will be sleeping under that again, I brought it from Madison, WI when I first moved to San Francisco.  I don’t know when I got it, but I know I had it when I moved over to East Gorham street after I left an ex-boyfriend.

That means it’s over thirteen years old?

Fourteen.

Yeesh.

It’s a great quilt.

A little worse for the wear, but still, in my favorite colors and it will fit nicely into the aesthetic of the room at Graceland.

I will need to pick up a little more bedding, a few more pillows, but that can wait for a moment.  I am mostly just happy with the thought of getting settled into a space that can be mine for a while.

I am looking forward to going home.

In East Oakland.

At Graceland, where there are kittens and sunshine and space and breath to be myself and re-collate myself, re-invigorate, and re-establish.

Happy.

Happy.

Joy.

Joy.

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