Gigantic mutant plants in West Oakland

This was insane today. I mean, it HAD to be 75 degrees. But you know, if it's like this often it's no wonder the plants here are iNSANE. This cactus has to be a hundred years old, in somebody's back yard around the corner. And, unfortunately, the photograph does not do it justice to its size. It was easily 12 feet tall and 5 feet across. I have never seen such a thing. I am so bowled over about the vegetation here. Maybe the soot gives it extra nutrients?!

These collard greens in someone's front yard are easily 20" tall!
Ok, on to other exciting things. Another thing that never seizes to amaze me are the homeless. I see some incredible sights:  like today there was a man in a tent under a bridge that I walked past but he didn't fit entirely in the tent so his feet were sticking out of the side and he was either sitting or lying inside but a rug covered the entrance and his face. Totally motionless. Was he dead?
ANOTHER thing: everyone is super friendly. Whether they want something or not. Especially the older folk, but not always, are all "Hello", "Good Morning" "You have a wonderful day" from the bus driver to people just walking past, to storekeepers etc.. Sometimes they want change or a cigarette but honestly, it's the minority that asks. OK. Not everyone. The Chinese are terrified of Bee and give us a wide berth, all the while muttering balefully to themselves. A couple of ladies jumped off the bus when we hopped on, obviously not wanting to get any closer to Bee. It sort of makes me want to go "BOOOOO!!!"
Well, to be honest, I'm a little discouraged. Nobody is reading this blog. At all. So maybe I'll stop writing. We will see... :{... Kinda takes the creative wind out of my sails.

Mysterious Shoes

GENTRI - FICACIONES

OK, I ADMIT IT. I'M PART OF THE PROBLEM. I JUST MOVED HERE. 
But on the other hand I DID just move into an affordable housing building, Section 8, for elders. AND I'm disabled. I mean, I COULD work, sometimes. Not enough for anyone to actually keep me on. I MISS work. I used to cook, train horses and people to ride them, guide them on trails, I worked in a bank as a Foreign Exchange Trader trainee, a Junior Account Executive with 2 of the largest ad agencies in the world, I crewed all over the Mediterranean and parts of the Caribbean, washed boats and crewed on motor boats out of Southern California, flipped burgers, trained dogs, dogsat show dogs, translated medical abstracts from Italian to English, was an Executive Assistant, a receptionist, taught Italian. Translated many texts from Italian to English and vice versa. Grew marijuana. Was a campground host. A ranch wrangler. Volunteered at the Oncology Institute. Was a professional landscaper, a construction hand, a hostess in an Italian fine dining restaurant in Telluride, Colorado, was a radio host and filmed videos for a Cajun Zydeco band. So, you see, I've WORKED. But I'm too weak now to do anything steadily for more than an hour or two. Then I have to rest, lie down. Sleep even at times. Such a bummer. 
How did I get on this diatribe. Oh, yeah. Being on the dole. Well, I don't feel too badly about it. I contributed. A lot over the years. But my best work was being a mother. And that we will go into another time.
In the meantime, the gentrification here is terrible. But the other buildings are literally falling down. So I don't know really WHAT to say.

Gifted and burdened with family heirlooms. 

I think that heirlooms stand for your ancestors looming over you, their heirs, to make sure you do justice to their beautiful antiques, best case scenario, and hand-me-downs, the usual case scenario, and junk, the worst-case-scenario. Actually, I think in my case, so far the worst-case-scenario has been family papers containing inventory lists which include, among other "stuff", slaves, of all ages and genders. I descend, in part, from an American southern family, who emigrated as colonialists, from Scotland, England and so forth during the forming of our country. They had plantations. I don't really know much about it but I will do some research as soon as I settle in and get everything out of storage. And open this trunk where I think there are more family documents but I'm kind of hoping gold treasure. I haven't found the key yet, although I know I have it, attached to Granny's  delicate gold keychain. I went recently to the neighborhood locksmith, who's about 80, named Ralph and he's been doing this for "60 years and could open anything", and forwarded him close up photographs of the lock on the trunk. He has not gotten back to me yet, reassuring me that it's "no problem" to open. I think he's met his match. What if he's descended from one of my family plantation slaves? I am not abandoning this subject. I am going to address it as well as I can at a later date when I know more about it.

 Those are Granny's initials

 The bed would fall apart without the rope. I've still to find the hardware that holds Granny's bed together. Heirlooms.

I'm going to go on and on about the plant life around here so might as well reconcile yourself with this reality.
I was going to say "Get used to it" but the Republicans have turned everything into a rude(r) phrase than it ever was when referring to Trump's behaviour and deleterious effect on just about everything. Plus, have you ever SEEN a less attractive group of people?

We will prevail.

Baby bananas?! For real! Right around the corner from me. 

These are the tallest palms I have ever seen in my life. The are right outside of City Slickers Farms, where I have just started to volunteer in their incredible gardens. Mostly vegetable produce, I am discovering though many new things ever day. I weed. That's what I do. I love weeding. Pruning. Clipping. Shaping. People don't realize how OCD I really am because of the adventurous life I've led. They tend to equate OCD with the image of a, say, mathematician, an accountant, a surgeon. But I'm here to tell you that it takes a serious OCD'y type of person to lead the vagabond's life, otherwise it all goes to hell in a handbasket. One's space is so limited, one's resources are so limited, the inherent risk and danger, the loneliness, that extreme preciseness is required. Focus, attention on all small details, and follow-up. Otherwise you're going to end up by the side of the road, dead, or dying, of thirst, or hunger, or violence. Or your car breaking down in the middle of Death Valley, or on a freezing mountain pass. But that's a story for another day. Today it's about City Slickers Farms. More pics will be forthcoming on a sunny day. Plus, I work too hard to have time so far to take pics. Here's their link: City Slickers Farms

Eric is the guy running it and is an incredible young man: knowledgeable, gentle, efficient, I cannot say enough about him. And he lets me use the flame-thrower. 
AND the weed-wacker, and then, of course, all the hand gardening tools. But I LOVE gadgets, machines, and POWER TOOLS. YAY! The flame-thrower is awesome: propane fueled, you just BURN off all the tiny little annoying weed growths that are too small to grab and yank out. And, well, you know the weed wacker! Grass FLIES! hahahahaha
The rest of weeding though is definitely a Zen exercise and I highly recommend it for your sanity.
Plus they have chickens and one of them, the darling, reminds me of my adored Nancy. I will talk about her at a later date too. It's still too painful for me. I don't really understand this grief over her death. I don't feel this way about either of my parents. WHAT in the hell is going on!!!

Nancy and my son Piero. She was absolutely the SHIT. Luckily, I still have Piero. i MISS HER. ok. enough.
I'll talk later. I have to take a breath.

VICTORY GARDENS

Ok, well, maybe in these times they are desperation gardens.

Right around the block where i walk with Bee every day, at least twice....

I mean LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THESE COLLARD GREENS, BROCCOLI RABE, AND SOME SORT OF SQUASH I THINK! 

O.W.L. STANDS FOR OLD WHITE LADY AND WEST OAKLAND STANDS FOR WEST OAKLAND

i LOVE this place. i mean, who DOES that?

Ok well, if this is too small, let me know. it's mainly an image blog anyway. i won't go into how i got here right away. that's quite a story in itself. suffice to say apparently i had accrued a number of karma points and they got cashed in baby! the main advantage to this place is that while i am an old lady, and white, here i feel special. young even. still white. whiter. i've never felt so white. the only drawback to this place is that there is no smoking. shoot! writing smoking drinking all go together right? so i don't drink anymore, that's another story, but i still really enjoy a cigarette. i don't smoke pot. i don't smoke anything but tobacco. back to this place. it's a retirement home. a building where only seniors can live. and it's AWESOME. this afternoon went to a Tai Chi class in the Community Room downstairs, wednesdays are coffee days, fridays are brown bag days and free produce is available in the Community Room. there's a laundry. here's the view from the laundry room of the City by the Bay.

a zoom with the Port of Oakland in front

 downtown Oakland. look how tall that mf palm tree is

 So i'm not really organized yet but before i get too ahead of myself one of the regular themes will be solitary shoes. which are all over the place and i cannot for the life of me understand why.

 ok, those are boots. but still. these, instead, are extremely nice mens' shoes.

just sitting there

another common theme will be plants. because plants just fucking LOVE it here. i'm not kidding. i found BANANAS growing today. didn't have my phone, will tomorrow. but in the meantime, check out these flowering jade plants and other succulents. iNSANE

i mean, i have NEVER seen flowering jade plants. AND real bananas where i'm not in mexico or costa rica or something. Day-O