March 26, closing party at the Vampire Albatross-  

The end of my show for La Wanda Ultan, “Portraits”.

Steve said it was the best Art Gallery Party he had ever been to.  He died ten days later.

In June I drove the van down to Palmdale for Elsie’s 90th birthday, scattered ashes on the hill above Desert View Highlands, and hiked the wash with the family. 

On the way back I visited my friend Rosie–here we are at Avila Beach.

Rick and Roxann took me to tiny beach for the rare super-low tide exposure.

Celu and I drove the Westfalia up to Jenner, stopping at the campground Steve and I camped at when we took the Electric Automobile class.

And then Moody Ridge, where Helen’s friend Nick lives, Labor Day weekend.  The fires near Yosemite had cancelled the Strawberry Music Festival, so many people convened here for a weekend of music, Phil’s Fish, and giant onion rings.

Thank you all my friends and family-  Without your loving kindness, I would scarcely be able to walk, or breathe.

My life had been taken over by the Vampire Albatross, and Steve and I were unable to get away except for Christmas in Palmdale at the end of 2011.  It was just down and back, and no side trip. In February we took a Sunday drive to check out waves and storm damage in Pacifica.  Here’s Steve at the beach wearing his favorite t-shirt I designed and printed in my shop from my own large pen-and-ink drawing.

In June we drove to Palmdale by way of the Eastern Sierras and Hot Creek.  I can see here his facial distortion from the new dentures-

Hot Creek overview and campsite

Stopping for lunch, I shooed him away from a jeep I wanted to photograph-  to this day it breaks my heart  .  .  .  such a little thing, but it hurts me deeply.   So many times I tried to get a candid shot of him–really, not to worry.

Then to Palmdale, to spend a few days at the homestead- where we rented a trailer to transport the 34 boxes of discovery that were the remains of the trial that put S in prison.  I wish we had taken it all to the shredder.

On the way home we stopped to camp at Col Allensworth State Park- a post Civil War all-black community frozen into a little park in California’s Central Valley. 

I spent my time off that summer of 2012 sorting books and original artifacts and shredding multiple copies of requisition forms and photographs of evidence and other ephemera.  I think this took a terrible toll on his psyche–All through 2011 and 2012 Steve faced a number of health challenges, and was having trouble finding work.  Several elderly clients had died, and he was loosing his agility on ladders and struggling to stop drinking in a milieu of playing music for beer  .  .  .

Here he is at Black Butte River Ranch, fourth of July Weekend, at the back of the Westfalia, after a wandering well-wisher came by dispensing a generous assortment of shots.   .  .  .

Late in 2011, after I had bought the shop, Steve and I  drove to my niece’s for Thanksgiving dinner, and her adorable children showed us their animals.  Raising and selling birds pays for feed for the horses.  They all loved Uncle Steve-

We spent Christmas in Palmdale, with Martha and her family, hiking in the hills where they played as kids, and where we later scattered his ashes.

Little Rock Dam