2002

Greetings!

To get the bad news out of the way first, half my year was taken up with the gruesome experience of total knee replacement surgery (right knee, August), and the subsequent recuperation therefrom. It was a real horror, weeks of severe round-the-clock pain. Daily physical therapy exercises too, which are in themselves a source of pain. So-called painkillers do not kill pain, they merely lower it a few degrees. What they do do, however, is kill the appetite, so I could call that a fringe benefit in that I lost 22 excess pounds. (Added bonus: I can now get into some clothes I’d had to put away for the last couple of years owing to the combined results of dietary indiscretion and inability to do all the walking I used to do before the knee got so bad.)

The physical therapy sessions have continued till this month and I still have to continue doing the exercises at home; I’m also going to to try to do some at the gym. (Trying to strengthen atrophied and tightened muscles after years of limping.)

Even this unpleasant surgery experience had its moments of humor:

*Hospital staff write the word “NO” in big black letters on your good knee so that the doctor doesn’t cut off the wrong one.

*The visiting nurse was coming to my house the first few weeks after I got home from the hospital to test blood coagulation with a small portable machine. One day she forgot her glasses and couldn’t read the figures on the machine. So I, who must be at least 20 to 30 years older than she, and who needs no glasses, had to read the figures to her.

*And since I am now composed partly of metal (as well as plastic) I suppose I can look forward to creating havoc going through airport metal detectors in future.

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On the brighter side of the year’s events, I made my Easter vacation trip to Carmel again, still researching old newspaper microfilms for items about my artist father, who lived there during the 1920’s. I also went back there one day in August shortly before the surgery to attend the opening of the Carmel Art Association’s 75th Anniversary Exhibit. One of my father’s paintings(A. HAROLD KNOTT) was included in the show, since he was one of its founding members (1927!) It was particularly pleasing to see that (because of the size of the painting I had loaned) it was displayed in a glass case at the center of the gallery, together with a photo of him painting on the Carmel shore--along with another small painting by one of his best buddies during those years (Myron Oliver). That made it very special. Artists have their immortality in exhibitions through the years, where they come together again with old friends.

I made a brief trip to Santa Barbara (shopping), and San Francisco/Palo Alto (appointments and Wagner Society and an opera working rehearsal). (Listening to the old director trying to correct the cast and crew’s endless blunders.)

We had quite a few good movies at the “art theatre” in San Luis Obispo, thank goodness. And I also saw a regional theatre performance of “Holly Dolly” -- a very old show, but the first time I’d seen it.

In February I gave a talk to the local chapter of the American Association of University Women about my mother, which they had asked me to do since she did all the groundwork in getting this chapter organized and launched in the 1950’s.

In March a cousin I’d never met but with whom I’ve corresponded about family history matters came through briefly and it was fun to discuss these things in person. Both of us trying to see family resemblances in each other’s faces, etc.

During my recuperation months this fall I heard a talk about Walt Disney’s involvement with small-scale trains and railroads, sponsored by the group who are organizing a railroad museum in San Luis Obispo. That was fun--Walt having such a part in our childhoods with his movies--

Even more entertaining was an old film shown by the Friends of the Library at the nearby little town of Cayucos (7 miles north of here), as a fundraiser. This so-called “horror” movie, “The Monster of Piedras Blancas,” was filmed there and at the disused Piedras Blancas Lighthouse further up the coast in 1958. It is one of those “B” movies that is meant to be scary but is so badly written it becomes hilariously funny instead. The monster (a fellow in a reptilian rubber suit, something like the “Creature from the Black Lagoon,” lives in a coastal cave near the lighthouse and his mission is to terrorize the local citizens by slicing off their heads as cleanly as if with a guillotine.) (No explanation of how he does it with nothing but those reptile claws to work with.) The script was so ridiculous that the audience roared with laughter the whole time. It was better than any comedy. (This is unlikely to be available on video, but if it turns up in your neighborhood as a “cult” film,” rush out and see it for an evening of laughs.)

In between the two showings of the film (at the veterans’ hall) some of the local citizens who’d appeared as extras in the film were to take part in a panel for discussion along with the star, Jeanne Carmen. Jeanne, who must be at least in her early 60’s by now, looked ageless, totally groomed and glamorous in the best Hollywood manner, carrying herself in a regal manner like a true star.

My young cats (now approx. ½ years old) are still very playful and energetic, and they’ve been good company during my convalescence. Jazz, (black with white trim -- long, soft fluffy coat) and Butterball (orange marmalade, short hair), still have play fights and then curl up and nap together, sometimes with their arms around each other. Jazz sheds his fluff all over the house, and Butterball sheds wiry short orange hairs onto all my clothes--very hard to get off.

Butterball is hazardous in other ways. His idea of play is still to bite my hands, and he loves to shred anything made of paper. I could rent him out to some of those crooked corporations we keep reading about in the news. Newspapers, books, magazines--he can chew a hole through about ten pages’ thickness from the center of an open book (difficult for me to reconstruct, if not impossible). He’s also an absolute whiz at catching birds, which causes me some distress, since I love birds too. He brought a young hummingbird into my bedroom while I was doing my exercises; when I realized what it was I managed to rescue him and set him outside on a fence ledge, with a dish of water. When I went back later he had rallied from the shock and flew away, so apparently he had not had vital organs pierced by feline fangs (I hope) The next bird BB brought into the bedroom was bigger, and BB was smarter -- when he saw me get up to rescue it he snatched it and ran outdoors again.

Although he came from a feral setting, BB is extravagantly affectionate, demanding lots of lap time (or stomach time, if I’m lying down during exercises. Jazz is a bit more independent; he announces his arrival in a room with a loud purr motor, touches base--visits the lap for a moment, then settles nearby.

Now for the wildlife. I found a lot of tadpoles in my rain barrel in late July but don’t know when or whether they matured and made it out to wherever frogs hide in the dry season. An even more dramatic discovery in late July was a group of odd-looking big birds which I was told were wild turkeys. (I’d never seen one before.) A mother with six babies, the babies being about the size of a bantam hen, evidently came out of the State Park (nature reserve) a few blocks east. They were having great fun scratching for bugs and seeds in  the soft soil. A few days later there were only four babies. Oh dear! Cats must have gotten two of them. And then I saw my cats stalking them. Horrors! I must have made an interesting spectacle out on the lawn--lame lady, limping frantically around chasing the cats who were chasing the turkeys.

It would have made a great photo. (You can never find a cameraman when you need one.

The turkeys worked their way around my yard and others in the neighborhood and kept everyone entertained. They were still here when I got home from the hospital, but the babies had grown to about the same size as the mother. I haven’t seen them for some weeks now, and my veterinarian- -I mean, my cats’ veterinarian!--tells me he’s seen them on the golf course (a few blocks south) and that a father turkey has joined the family. A nice place for a family reunion, with its grand panoramic view of the bay, sand bar and ocean beyond--

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Hope all goes well with you and I look forward to your news. Best wishes for Christmas and the new year!