Category Posts

Walk with me

JT Twissel 15 Comments

We finally decided to take the old Prius in for the Necessary Oil Maintenance the dashboard monitor had been displaying for weeks. My husband translated that to oil change which is something he used to be able to handle in the privacy of our driveway for very little cost. But that was before. Prius’ are special … as are most cars started via buttons and not keys. Lord.

From the Orinda Vintage Car Show – a car using manual ignition

So I contacted the dealer we generally use to schedule an oil change. It should take about two hours max, right? I asked. Noooooo, was the snide reply I received. The car needed its 70,000 mile grand nincompoopery of “services.” A dizzying list of valve checks, fluid replacements, tire rotations, brake fluid checks, face lifts, tummy tucks, nose jobs and oh, if there’s rat damage, well you better take out that second mortgage. And … there’s always rat damage. (I’ve long suspected the local auto dealers and repair shops are importing rats from all over the world and releasing them in Contra Costa California with the hearty admonition to go forth and consume the wires, hoses, insulation and whatever else appeals to them in every vehicle … be those vehicles in a garage or in the street! )

For various reasons, I dread going to the Toyota dealer. And so when a coupon arrived from an auto shop within walking distance of my house, I decided to give them a try. They’re a small shop whose owners love vintage cars. Every year they hold a vintage car show that keeps attracting more and more people and so I was surprised they also service newer cars. And they were very friendly; no snide remarks.

I drove over this morning and, as directed, parked the filthy beast behind two mint condition vintage Thunderbirds. After checking in with their staff of amateur comedians (“How long will the service take?” “The rest of the year.”) I decided the weather was perfect for the long walk home. No need for a Lyft. Although the comedians had their doubts. “Try to remember exactly where you are in case you can’t make it and we have to come get you.” Gads. Do I look that old?

Well, I made it. Come with me on my walk, will you?

Above is the beginning of my walk – the sidewalk in front of the community center, library and park. It’s generally a very busy area but not at 8:30 in the morning.

I know I’ve posted pictures of the old Art Deco Theatre before but indulge me once again. The morning light gave it a special glow.

The theater has been putting on various events all summer. The next one involves this guy – seen a couple nights ago passing out fliers.

Can you guess what he was advertising?

The last hill to climb. It’s steeper than it looks but I love passing through the redwood grove. Those trees have been here since before the Pony Express rode through them. The houses are built around them.

It’s gotten hot so the old Prius will probably have to spend the night at the garage. No way I’m walking back over there in the 100 degree heat!

By the way, it was great fun interacting with those of you who checked out my interview on Yvette’s Priorhouse blog! As a result, I look forward to getting to know several new (to me) bloggers and to interviewing Yvette and her fellow writers once their book comes out in October. More on that as it gets closer!

It’s hot but there are signs of autumn all around.

If there are passwords in heaven, I’m checking out that other place

JT Twissel 17 Comments
Heaven by Connemoira

I can see the need for usernames and passwords at financial institutions, but the other day I called Pampered Pet Ranch where we occasionally board our cat and was told to:

  • Visit their website and agree to all their cookies, disclaimers, policies, guidelines, etc.
  • Create an account with username, password, backup email, backup phone #, etc.
  • Validate our human existence by solving a set of visual brainteasers designed for those people with an IQ of 200 or above. You had three chances before being declared a bot.
  • Provide vet’s name, address, email and last health report.
  • Complete their extensive questionnaire:
    • How many minutes a day does your pet require additional pampering (at $9.99 a minute)
    • Does your pet have a pet name?
    • How does your pet display anxiety?
  • Complete request for boarding
    • Day and time of drop off
    • Day and time of pick up
    • Food requirements
  • Check back hourly for confirmation

In other words, they were no longer taking reservations over the phone.

Do you suffer from anxiety Kitty? Are you kidding? I’m a cat!

This left me wondering, how many people actually called Pampered Pet Ranch and made reservations for other people’s pets? If the answer is thousands, hundreds, or even a dozen, this country is even sicker than I thought. More than likely they found that gathering necessary information this way was more reliable that depending on their young staff. Or the fickleness of their clientele. At least they know where to put the blame for flub ups!

They also required Kitty’s mug shot, I guess in case an imposter tried to take his place.

Pampered Pet Ranch is not the only website requiring one of the hundreds of username/ password combos that clutter my little black book. I have usernames and passwords for:

  • Hotel chains I have visited once
  • Saline nasal pods for a machine that hasn’t worked for years
  • The toilet paper people who became so busy during the pandemic that they were always out
  • Our medical provider, Kaiser Permanente which provides preventative care for seniors provided those seniors can figure out their complicated and constantly “updated” online system.
Sign seen while having a pelvic exam. Really? Having a lovely time with cold, metal instruments shoved up my vagina. @kaiser


I think it’s unfair to expect aging baby boomers to keep up with technology. After all, we were the first people to own personal computers back when knowledge of a computer language was necessary to run the damn things. You couldn’t just bark orders at a Compaq or wave a magic finger over the screen.

WordStar screen borrowed from Wikipedia

I can still remember the secretaries in our office who vowed to never ever switch from their beloved typewriters to a computer! Never ever and indeed, it did take a while for many of them to change their minds.

The temp
The horrible machine that was going to make typewriters extinct!

I can also remember the day the internet captured my mother-in-law’s favorite granddaughter. It was my fault really. Bernita was staying with us when she heard from her other son that “darling Lena” had won a statewide award and that the ceremony had been broadcast over something called “the internet.” I found the site and showed her the ceremony on my computer screen. There was Lena, climbing the stairs to the stage and accepting her award. Huge smiles on her face. Applause all around.

Bernita turned to me in horror. “Oh my Lord. They’ve captured Lena! How horrible!” She began to quiver. “My darling Lena!”

Borrowed from Bing images

“No Bernita, She won the grand prize in the state science fair and they put the ceremony on the web. That’s what I’m showing you. She’s fine.”

“She’s caught in the web?” By this time she was in full panic. “Turn that thing off! Make it stop stealing children!” She bolted from my tiny office and vowed never to enter that unholy chamber again.

It’s a good thing she never had to do a video conference with her doctor!

Yup … if there are passwords in heaven, I’m checking out that other place!

BTW – because of some oddness between Word and WordPress, I had to use the old Ctrl V (copy) Ctrl P (paste) commands to create this post. Commands I learned over thirty years ago. So much for progress. We’re going backwards in more ways that we can count.

Requiem for a Tree

JT Twissel 20 Comments

Once the view from the ridge above my house. To the right is a group of pine trees, as of tonight – after six long days of chainsaws and limb grinding – gone. All gone. Sliced and diced and thrown into the wood chipper.

The granddaddy of the tree family was visible from my deck. When I heard the chainsaws and realized what was up, I ran out to get a shot before the sawing began. Unfortunately the rising sun made a good shot impossible.

I know logically that if a tree that size fell it could cause great damage and so it had to go. Slowly and carefully as there are houses nearby. Six days it took and for six days I listened. I could have gone elsewhere but I felt I must stay and mourn it’s passing.

When it comes to trees, I guess you could say I’m a wee bit fay, as the Irish would say.

The tree by early afternoon.

For thirty years I’d watched hawks perch on top of this tree, surveying the whole valley for prey or just taking in the view. They mounted no defense for fear of the chainsaws, the ropes, and the men shouting and whistling as they worked.

All in Spanish, such a lively language for a grim task. But I had to admire their bravery and skill.

Sawing and grinding until …

The final surrender; only the skeleton remained. Not a dignified ending, my friend, but you will be remembered.

The Eighth Month

JT Twissel 28 Comments

For Christmas I received a Washi Calendar from my son who is currently living in a remote village in the mountains of Japan. On the first day of every month I reveal a new page of the calendar with the sadness of not knowing when or if I’ll ever see my son again. The world has gotten that shaky.

Despite all the evil in the world, we’ve managed to reach the eighth month of 2025. In the US there are no official holidays during this month. In Japan there’s only one: The 11th or Mountain Day.

The symbol or kanji for the eighth month is said to resemble a mountain.

Apparently there are no official celebrations of Mountain Day, much the same as last month’s Marine Day , but everyone is encouraged to take the day off to celebrate their favorite or closest mountain. (Japan is 80% mountain so it’s not that hard!)

My memories of this last month of summer, before life gets back to the normal grind of work or school, are of uneasy transitions. I would barely get settled in to a new routine when all too suddenly came the holidays! Yippee! More expectations, more preparations, more stress!

From Bing images

But, in Japan the symbol for this month is the pink lotus, the flower that arises from murky water and thus represents enlightenment, purity and spiritual awakening. Perhaps … I’ve been thinking about this month all wrong! Perhaps … I should hightail it to the nearest mountain and seek some of that enlightenment.

Or perhaps I’m more like the grass.

So long … I’m outta here and you’ll never believe why!

JT Twissel 44 Comments

The other day I received a communication of the utmost confidentiality and significance from a Mr. Pauwels Gaetan informing me that his client, Engr. Eldric Twissel, a distinguished business contractor for decades in Brussels had passed away due to a myocardial infarction shortly after the tragic loss of his entire family in a vehicular accident. In case you don’t believe me, here is that very same communication (with a bit of berry pie spilled on it I’m afraid.)

Reading further, I was stunned to learn that I am apparently the last living Twissel on the planet! And, as such, I am eligible to inherit good old Eldric’s 9,995,980.00 (Nine Million, Nine Hundred Ninety-Five Thousand, Nine Hundred Eighty Euros) which will make me – gasp – a billionaire? (I have no idea what the exchange rate is so I’m just guessing.)

After a month of fog, finally the sun! Oh, my happy days are here!

Unfortunately my friends, billionaires don’t blog. But I’ll remember each of you fondly on my yacht.

First … I suppose I’ll have to hire Pauwies to “assist” me through a “entirely legitimate” process with “no legal risks or exposure” to myself. All he expects in return is half of the 9,995, 980.00 Euros! What a gent!

Next, I guess I better head down to my bank to prepare them. Pauweis will undoubtedly want access to my account. You know, to make it easier to transfer the funds. Oh, and I better call my tax guy … perhaps I should relocate to Switzerland in order to avoid horrendous taxes? Oh dear, so many decisions. So much to prepare for!

A bench dedicated to Eldric and the Twissels?

Of course, I’ll have to do something to honor Eldric and all those poor unfortunate Twissels who met their demise in some ghastly vehicular accident. Any suggestions?

My tiny voice

JT Twissel 30 Comments

For about four years I volunteered as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) for the Juvenile Court Judges of Northern California. CASA candidates are rigorously screened and must complete at least forty hours of training (psychological, legal, sociological, medical and educational) before being sworn in. A CASA is required to:

  • Gain the confidence of the child assigned to them
  • Interview the child’s social worker, therapist, educational advisor, doctor, etc.
  • File a monthly report with the judge who was the child’s legal guardian
  • Attend all court sessions having to do with the child’s welfare as well as accompanying the child to a quarterly review of their case.
How foster children often view their court hearings and the judge.

CASAs are only assigned to at-risk foster children. During the years I spent as a CASA there weren’t nearly enough of us to make a dent in the demand.

Sean was in charge of all the CASA volunteers. Sean assigned available CASAs to children in need and made sure they had all the resources they needed. (There are all kinds of programs at a low cost or free to foster children as well as discount tickets to museums, theaters and parks.) Sean presented as a tall young man who wasn’t overly athletic but could probably outlast most people in an endurance contest. Sean’s sandy hair was cut short and Sean’s face was smooth with just a bit of baby fat. No stubble or five o’clock shadow. Sean always wore grey or tan slacks with a belt, cotton button down shirts (the type they used to sell at JC Penney’s) and brown hush puppies. Sean always reminded me of Donny Osmond. The young Donny Osmond.

Double Deers by Tres Miller

You can probably guess where this is heading. After I found out that Sean had been a Melinda and that her/his first CASA child had been a female ( female foster children could only be assigned to a female CASAs) I badly wanted to ask “Do you prefer to be called him or her? Or even them?” because I’d rather die than in any way hurt or insult such a wonderful young person. But that was almost twenty years ago and I was raised to mind my own business. We can’t go back to those days of being afraid to ask, folks. Reject all the transphobia going on … it’s sheer insanity.

Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else. Judy Garland.

Sun Rise, Moon Set

JT Twissel 25 Comments

One of the advantages to being an early riser is the sun,
arriving as cymbals clash,
or violins soar.
Never very shy, the sun.

Not so the moon, who tries to creep away.

I spotted you, hiding in the fog. Show your face before you go..

Thank you. Now adieu Moon as the clatter of the week arrives. The trucks rumble by, the sheets need washing, the garbage needs collecting. Monday.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Monday Movie Mysteries

JT Twissel 31 Comments

Do you recognize this rooftop?

If you’re a Disney fan, you might. It’s rumored to have been the setting for the rooftop scene in one of their most famous movies. I doubt it really was but that’s the rumor.

It’s actually the roof of the oldest building on the campus of UC Berkeley, South Hall which was built in 1879. There used to be a corresponding North Hall but it is now the site of an ultra modern undergraduate library.

.Can you guess what field of interest this building houses? Perhaps philosophy or English? Some archaic field, no doubt. (I guess it depends on your way of thinking.)

It had been at least twenty years since I’d visited my Alma Mater but it is only fifteen minutes from my house. And so when out-of-town visitors wanted a tour, I stepped up to the challenge. I opted for a walking tour of the older part of the campus which is flatter by far than the rest and also passes this iconic landmark.

We always called it The Campanile but I guess its actual name is Sather Tower.

We were lucky because the tower was open and, for a small fee, we could climb up to the top.

The Campanile was closed for most of the time I was at Cal to install the suicide barrier which now blocks its sensational views.

Behind these two lovelies you can see the skyline of San Francisco, the Bay and just barely the Marin Headlands. From the tower we could also see the entire campus – north, south, east and west – which negated the need for further walking. I could just point out landmarks and other notable buildings giving us time for a visit to Yogurt Park.

The eight year old was happy because we’d arrived at precisely three o’clock and got to witness (and hear) the ringing of the bells.

Oh what a thrill. Afterward he staggered around pretending to have been deafened by the sound.

Any guesses on the famous Disney movie which contains a roof-top scene? How about the secrets of South Hall?

The Slow Month

JT Twissel 17 Comments

I’m a day late but Welcome to the Seventh Month. This month the only national holiday in Japan is July 21 or Marine Day. According to Wiki, Marine Day falls on the third Monday of July, a time which coincides with the ending of the rainy season and the beginning of the hot weather. They take this day to honor the oceans which provide them with so much.

A few days ago I promised to reveal the identity of the town called Slow. San Luis Obispo is about two hours north of Santa Barbara and is home to this lovely mission.

Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa

Unlike the “Queen,” this mission is in the middle of town and surrounded by quaint shops and restaurants. It was named for Saint Louis, Bishop of Toulouse France, who gave up the life of a prince to become a Franciscan (he’s generally pictured with a crown at his feet). He wore himself out serving the poor, sick and downtrodden and died at age 23.

San Luis Obispo is basically a college town. It’s a bit inland from the ocean and so they don’t get the kind of tourists that nearby Pismo Beach, Morro Bay or Hearst Castle get. Thus it’s nickname Slo.

After SLO, Highway 101 veers inland and you spend hours passing field after field of crops growing at various stages between the Sierra de Salinas and the Gavilan Range, and towns where it helps to know a bit of Spanish!

I wish every American could see the valleys of California – the mile after mile of crops tended to and harvested by people who are not criminal and who are not illegal and without whom we would starve.