Following up to the other day’s post about the suckhole that we hoped would be ours — poo. We didn’t get the house after all. As these things happen, just as we were getting our offer ready, someone else put in a bid (this was after we’d been assured that no one else on the planet, nay, the very universe was interested…). Their bid was lower than ours was going to be — but it was accepted. So clearly, the Big Kahuna has something else in mind for us. I can’t say I’m amused by the whole roller coaster of the real estate market, with its last-minute nasty surprises. But what the hay? You win some crack houses, you lose some. But I’m not bitter. Much.
So I took all my library books on restoration and recycled buildings and energy-efficient chicken coops, et cetera et ad infinitum, back to the drop-chute and took out more books on WWII and the Holocaust, a more cheerful prospect at the moment. Seriously. I was doing research on my new novel before we fell into the House Frenzy a few weeks ago. And writing a novel is always more fun than not writing one.
Another post soon: I’m back on the blog wagon as a local spotlight on Alameda Patch (a little pinkie finger of the AOL-Huffington Post media empire). My posts will be more frequent and certainly more sterling than of late. I think I’ve recorded only triumphs and tragedies, without basic stuff that shows how the great machine works. (Wow — labored metaphors are just my thing today. No. I’m not bitter.)
I spent yesterday and today helping a friend with his beehives. The bees were mad as hell yesterday and really aggressive — so much that I dashed for the house two or three times. I got too freaked out being swarmed over. See photo above — that’s me at the back and neighbor at the front, loading an empty hive into his garage. Today the whole hive took off en masse — which explains why they were so pissed off yesterday. They stopped in a local tree, but that wasn’t far enough away, so they took to the wind. Inside, I helped my pal spin honey out of the comb and we bottled up almost 20 pints — at about a pound and a half per jar. It was slow, sticky work, but I came home with a pint jar of fresh early spring honey and a beeswax candle made from an earlier batch. And it was very good.
See? I’m not bitter. I’m sweet as honey.
Julia Park Tracey is an award-winning journalist, author, and blogger. She is the author of six books: three novels, one poetry collection, and two women's history. She was the Poet Laureate of Alameda, California, in 2014-17. She's also the conservatrix of The Doris Diaries, the diaries of her great-aunt Doris Bailey Murphy. She has a BA in journalism from San Francisco State University, and MA in Early 20th C. British Literature from Cal State Hayward. Julia's articles have appeared on Salon, Thrillist, Paste, Scary Mommy, Narratively, Yahoo News, Your Tango, and Sweatpants & Coffee. Her articles have also run in Redbook, Woman's Day, Country Living, House Beautiful, Town & Country, the San Francisco Chronicle, Oakland Magazine, Quill, and MadeLocal. She was the founding editor of weekly Alameda Sun and literary zine Red Hills Review. Her poetry has been in The East Bay Literary review, Postcard Poems, Americus Review, Cicada, Tiferet Review, and many others. Julia has been recognized several times by the San Francisco, East Bay and Peninsula Press Clubs as well as the California Newspaper Association for her blogging since 2003.