Waiting For The Naked Ladies

By Anita Garner

Naked Ladies show up in the oddest places in Northern California in July and all through August. Clumps of them, pink and fragrant, with up to a dozen beautiful blooms on each leafless stem. They’re energetic. They’re sturdy. They’re random.

They scatter all over the countryside in Napa and Sonoma and Marin in places where no one would have thought to plant them. All of a sudden comes this magic in a distinct shade of pink, from a bed of weeds, a crack in a sidewalk, along fences, lining a country road, and in no particular formation. You have to smile at their tenacity and because critters don’t like them, they stay around a while.

There’s something mysterious and charming about them so I had to look it up. Read on if you want to know too.

They’re in the lily family, starting life as a bulb. During the winter a plant with leaves appears, looking like any other plant. Then the leaves die away and you can easily forget about them. A few months later during hot weather, up pops a bare stalk then another and another.

I wanted to know how they get scattered all over the place. Turns out they drop seeds which insure surprise sightings in years to come. Once a bulb’s planted, you’ll never know how many will show up next season.

People say Naked Ladies are practically indestructible, but I assumed I’d lost the ones in my yard in Mill Valley a few years ago. A tree had to be removed right next to where the Naked Ladies bloomed the summer before. Along with the tree and its roots, everything went. Only dirt was left.

Then came the summer and overnight one bare stalk started pushing up, then another, beautiful and fragrant and naked.

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Jane Austen sat here.

Jane Austen’s last novel, Sanditon, (in progress when she died) is coming to TV. Masterpiece/PBS will film an 8-episode adaptation of the story.

It’s impossible to imagine how many thousands of pages she created sitting right there. A goose feather could meet no nobler purpose than to become one of the quill pens she dipped in endless bottles of ink.

Filming begins in spring, 2019. Never too early for eager Jane Austen fans to start getting excited.

Here’s the official press release:

Latest news

RED PLANET PICTURES, ITV AND MASTERPIECE TO BRING JANE AUSTEN’S UNFINISHED FINAL NOVEL, SANDITON, TO LIFE

Jul 10, 2018

RED PLANET PICTURES, ITV AND MASTERPIECE TO BRING JANE AUSTEN’S UNFINISHED FINAL NOVEL, SANDITON, TO LIFE.

We are delighted to announce our new drama, based on Austen’s final manuscript, Sanditon, developed by Emmy and BAFTA-Award winning writer Andrew Davies.

Executive produced by our Creative Director, Belinda Campbell (Death in Paradise, Dickensian, Hooten & The Lady) and MASTERPIECE’s Rebecca Eaton, Austen’s original 11- chapter fragment has been extended into a sumptuous 8×60 minute drama series by acclaimed screenwriter Andrew Davies (War & Peace, Mr Selfridge, Les Misérables, Pride and Prejudice).

ITV’s Head of Drama, Polly Hill commented: “It’s a rich, romantic, family saga built upon the foundations Jane Austen laid. There is no one better to adapt her unfinished novel than Andrew who has an incredible track record for bold and original adaptations. We’re delighted to commission Sanditon from Belinda Campbell and her team at Red Planet Pictures.”

Andrew Davies added: “Jane Austen managed to write only a fragment of her last novel before she died – but what a fragment! Sanditon tells the story of the transformation of a sleepy fishing village into a fashionable seaside resort, with a spirited young heroine, a couple of entrepreneurial brothers, some dodgy financial dealings, a West Indian heiress, and quite a bit of nude bathing. It’s been a privilege and a thrill for me to develop Sanditon into a TV drama for a modern audience.”

Belinda Campbell commented: “Andrew Davies’ compelling scripts bear all the hallmarks of the biting social commentary and realism that makes Jane Austen one of the most widely read writers in English literature. Sanditon’s themes of class divide, ambition, powerplay and matters of the heart are as relevant today as they were in the early 19th century and we can’t wait to bring this incredible adaptation to life for ITV audiences to enjoy.”

Gilmore Girls Again

We’re watching Gilmore Girls again. And again. The youngest person in the house is now exactly the right age to find Lorelai and Rory fascinating. Everything about their relationship, their town, their troubles and triumphs, their fast-talking search for wisdom – all of it – watched and discussed right here.

Writers/producers, Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino are creative past any point I can imagine. Because of the quirky charm of Gilmore Girls (now available on Netflix) I followed them to their next shows, Bunheads (haven’t found it streaming yet) and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Amazon.

When my blogging buddy, Dave Williams and I were both on the radio in Los Angeles, he spoke often of his devotion to the show. I came to it later thinking, if Dave’s so crazy about this, I’ll give it a try.

Now, thanks to the magic of streaming, we have the opportunity to re-visit the town of Stars Hollow and share interesting conversations at home with the resident teen.

California Highway Sauce

I’ve spent a lot of time driving I-5 from Northern to Southern California and back. During summer the center of the state bursts with flavors. I know all the nooks and crannies, the truck stops, the rest stops, and the bounty of good regional food sold at specific convenience stores along the way. Maybe someday there’ll be a song about I-5. After all, Route 66 had to wait a while before Bobby Troup sang about it.

I-5 parallels the West Coast from Mexico to Canada. There are long stretches without much to look at but signs point to quick side trips, if you’re inclined. I’ve been on this road so often I can direct you to everything from salad to dessert.

This month, a short trip off I-5, it’s the Gilroy Garlic Festival. Gilroy named itself the Garlic Capital Of The World and nobody disputes it.

When you drive I-5 you learn when crops are planted and harvested. Ahead of me I spy two crucial ingredients for great spaghetti sauce. One truck rolls along carrying garlic, followed by another with tomatoes, home-grown and soon to be shared in markets everywhere. If you’re on I-5 during summertime you don’t need to wait. There are enough roadside stands on your way home to provide everything you need for supper.

Barnwood Builders save American history one log at a time.

By Anita Garner

I have a crush on these guys. If you love stories about old buildings getting another life, if you like This Old House, meet Barnwood Builders.

Host Mark Bowe and his bearded crew out of West Virginia proudly call themselves hillbillies. My people. They sound like Daddy and a bunch of his brothers hanging around together, only instead of picking guitars on the front steps, they’re carrying hammers and swinging axes and giant mallets.

The merry Barnwood Builders hop out of their trucks at the site, drawling and punning (really corny puns.) Mark and Sherman and Graham and Tim and Alex and Johnny not only display impressive skills, they’re instantly likable. Together they disassemble or put back together old barns and pioneer cabins, preserving original logs from the 1800’s for re-use. Along the way, they show us how the people who built these early cabins and barns lived inside them. We learn about the labor and skill that went into the originals.

The Barnwood Builders offer the gift of sincerity, which is often missing on television. They spend long sweaty (or freezing) days treating American history with respect and tenderness. They know when deconstruction can only be handled with old-fashioned hand implements and when it’s safe to call in their forklift master, Johnny Jett. Johnny’s an artist with heavy machinery. He picks up several hundred pounds of logs, removing crumbling lumber from the side of a cabin and laying it down gently so the crew can get to the precious hand-hewn beams that form the core. I cheer with the guys when Johnny sets a massive beam down on a dime.

They act like best friends who genuinely like each other. They laugh at their own bad puns and silly wordplay, then turn misty-eyed while completing an especially tricky move, disassembling a pioneer church, retrieving the original bell from its falling-down tower and presenting it to members of the congregation who stand watching at the site.

Any day now I expect Pa Ingalls will show up to help these Little House On The Prairie neighbors build a village. Check out Barnwood Builders on the DIY* network and watch these artists help preserve American history one log at a time.

* I see they’re also listed on Great American Country and Discovery Channels. Not sure of schedules but I set the DVR to record the new ones and watch the others On Demand.* Thanks to whichever vintage house site on Instagram introduced me to these guys.

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Father’s Day

By Anita Garner

Daddy. Reverend Raymond D. Jones. Brother Ray.

Daddy was the sheriff of Mayberry with a deep Southern drawl and a Bible in his hand. Tall and good looking and enormously likable, he was in possession of both the strength and the patience of a natural leader.

Musical. Charismatic. Genuinely kind. Taught us to plant things, how to dig up baby potatoes, how to sing harmony in the car. The latter is important when what your family does is sing gospel harmony.

Daddy’s teaching methods were transparent but effective. To learn our parts, he started us off with the cowboy songs we loved and transitioned from Tumbling Tumbleweeds to What a Friend We Have In Jesus.

Headed to the radio station in Columbus Georgia, 1945. Sister Fern might not enjoy this photo of her with eyes closed and curls springing loose, but I like it. Sorry, Mother. We’ll make it up to you next Mother’s Day.

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Is fifty the new forever?

It’s official. I can no longer tell students from teachers. It’s not just because I’m getting old. (I am but that’s not the point this time.) Everyone’s dressed alike.

Here comes the back-in-the-day part: When we Aging Aquarians were in our teens, we couldn’t wait to be adults, so we copied them. We dressed older as soon as we could. We didn’t hate it.

In the 60’s we whipped around with lightning speed and decided to stay forever young. The rallying cry out of protest movements here in Northern California became, “Don’t trust anyone over 30.”

Today, fifty seems to be the outside age some acquaintances are comfortable with. Some have already been fifty for quite a while and staying fifty forever doesn’t seem like such a stretch. It might even be medically possible one day.

Avocado Dreams

If wishes came true, there’d be a mountain of lovely, bumpy, green/black California Hass avocados waiting right outside the door, programmed like magic to mature and ripen in sequence. There would never be a whole bunch of avocados bought on sale reaching their peak all at once. When that happens, we have to switch menus quickly because avocados cost so much, losing one to over-ripeness can ruin a person’s mood.

Avocado update:

The bad news is: Due to increased Southern California water costs, they are now costlier to grow. California produces 90% of the United States’ avocados. As of 2013, Mexico leads international exports, with other significant production in California, New Zealand, Peru, and South Africa.

The good news: There’s a rumor California may soon be able to grow avocados year round.

Bad news: That cost-of-water thing.

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Music this week: Banana Boat Song. Harry Belafonte. The video features dancers. Also Carmen Miranda, who wore more affordable fruits on her head.

The best part about this wedding.

Of course I’ll be watching, not so much for the big-ness of it all, but for the small details. I’m watching shows about the roomful of women hand-making lace stitched with historical symbols, two men embroidering all that gold braid onto military uniforms.

Everything is fancy and shiny and one of a kind. The flowers, the cake, the coaches. Nothing’s too small to go unreported. A British T.V. host even read from a document stating military uniforms must be worn by clean-shaven soldiers. Will Harry receive special dispensation for his beard?

My favorite part will be the tiny groomsmen and bridesmaids carrying out their duties. I’m not sure what those duties are besides looking cute and scattering petals. The best part is waiting for one to go rogue. Maybe one will fall out of step, or one will lack focus and stop and stare at the pews, and depending on their ages, one might decide not to go down the aisle at all.

We’ve seen their names. We’ll soon see them all decked out in miniature wedding finery. I hope a couple of them get their feisty on and behave like regular children.

Bless the ordinary days.

Bless the ordinary days. When I was younger I thought it would be big moments that define life. That didn’t turn out to be true. The one thing I can count on is routine. I love it.

By Anita Garner

Routine isn’t boring. It allows me to accomplish new things because no matter what happens when I venture into some other territory, I can return to stand (or sit) on the smooth and relatively splinter-free platform of the everyday and maybe even become bolder because of the foundation routine provides.

When I was younger I thought it would be big moments that defined life. That hasn’t turned out to be true. Often when drama’s ahead, I turn around and return as quickly as possible back to the smaller, the more familiar.

Habits are sometimes the only thing I can control for weeks at a time, and I count each choice I get to make a small victory. They give me freedom to feel most myself.

When I venture into new experiences, one of the best parts is knowing the familiar awaits. Sometimes the new thing works out, sometimes not. But there’s always the favorite chair, book, coffee, music, supper, TV show, and work I enjoy to return to.

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