incentive to keep the status quo.
Pearls and Lemons
Tales From House and Garden
Wednesday, October 8, 2025
No Kings
incentive to keep the status quo.
Wednesday, August 13, 2025
Brown Eyed Boy Of The World
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Photo by Torrey Fox |
It was a late November afternoon and the setting sun was reflecting off the windows in the hospital waiting area. I was getting more and more anxious. My baby was having a baby and it had been hours since I’d had any news. My daughter and son-in-law were on the same floor, really just down the hall but I could hear nothing. The last update was around mid-day when Allie texted saying they thought she’d be able to start pushing soon. That was hours earlier. I reached out to everyone, looking for ways to ease my mind. Was Allie ok? Was the baby alright?
This baby was my fifth grandchild and I’d never felt this nervous before. Three of them had been preemies so there had been no time to be anxious before the births; just plenty of time after. This baby was full-term, my daughter was huge and it was all baby. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving and the photos from the holiday showed a beautiful woman who was more than ready to be a mama. I texted my son in law’s mother asking if she’d heard anything. No, she had not and she was also on pins and needles.
At 3:24 I sent Denzel a message: You guys ok? Nothing came back. At 4:49 pm, just when I was about to jump out of my skin, I got the best text I’ve ever received. Denzel wrote this: He’s here. Then: And healthy. It still brings tears to my eyes to think of it. I wrote back: I’m over the moon. I waited a few minutes so they could tend to Allie and then went to meet my new grandson. When I walked into their hospital room music was playing and the baby was skin to skin on his father’s bare chest. The baby name had been under wraps the entire pregnancy. We had extracted some clues, and did a lot of guessing, but we were nowhere close. Allie told me his name was “Zay”. It was the first time I’d heard this name, but since then I’ve heard it several times. They were smart to keep it a secret. People, and I consider myself a person, have so many opinions, and they’re not afraid to share them.
Zay Ramon Allen was absolutely perfect. He was strong and lively, his color was good, and his hair! My side of the family has never seen a newborn with such hair. Long, black, beautiful silky hair. Looking at Zay’s face after he was born was eerie. He looked so much like Allie as a newborn. They have the same cheeks, chin and downturned mouth. The top half of his face looked more like papa, especially the slightly puffy eyes. When Denzel was born his eyes were so puffy that his mother refused to believe he was hers. The nurses brought Denzel to Casandra and she said, “That’s not my baby. That’s an Eskimo!” The photos prove her point. Fortunately, the swollen-face stage did not last and he grew into a very cute kid and a handsome man.
Zay and I had a little hang after he was born. We had a chat and I told him some things. One of the things I told him was that his mom and dad had loved each other for a long time and they had been waiting for him. We all had been waiting for him and we already loved him so much. I held his hand while he got a shot and wailed, then settled down.
Those newborn days seem so long ago. Zay is now a 16 month old toddler running all over the
place. His life has gone exceedingly well, thus far. Before the age of one, Zay took numerous
airplane flights, including two trips to Europe. At seven months he went to a wedding in Tuscany
with his parents and his other grandmother. At nine months Allie and I took him to Stockholm
which is where his maternal grandfather was born. In Swedish the term for mother’s mother is
“mormor”. One day we were having “fika” at The Hotel Diplomat Cafe when a handsome
Swedish man (don’t get me started on how good-looking the Swedish men are) looked at us
and asked, “Mormor?” Yes, a thousand times yes. I am Zay’s Mormor, aka Gigi, even though I
don’t have a drop of Scandinavian blood in me.
While we were in Stockholm I thought a lot about my former in-laws who met on the street in that very city. I also thought about how my immigrant ancestors arrived in Massachusetts in the 1600’s. I have a relative, Martha Carrier, who was hung as a witch in Salem. We’re also distantly related to both Taylor Swift and Jeffrey Dahmer. Go figure.Allie’s father is half Swedish and half Norwegian and he is the immigrant ancestor. Denzel is African American with a grandmother from Panama. Our big, beautiful melting pot, embodied in one tiny person.
Zay is obsessed with tennis and loves "reading". He's extremely strong, but has a sweet disposition and gentle demeanor. In addition to European jaunts, Zay has cruised the East Coast and spent a lot of time in museums. He’s usually among the first to catch any of the great exhibits in San Francisco. He loves his meals and snacks and afternoon naps and outings in the car. In fact, Zay lives the life of a senior citizen.
My first four grandchildren all have bright, blue eyes. Zay’s eyes are brown like his Dad, but they look so familiar to me. I look in his eyes and I see my mother and her mother and my sisters and my brother who died long ago. I am the only one with green eyes and I was hoping Zay would take after me, but his eyes are just right for him. The hair is always going to be a thing for Zay. People notice it and comment on it and want to touch it. It’s not black person hair or white person hair, it’s Zay hair. The smooth, silky hair has given way to a gorgeous cap of tight curls. It’s quite dark, but in the sun there are lovely copper glints.
More time has elapsed, as time is wont to do. Our sweet boy is now careening towards two years old. His second birthday will be on Thanksgiving. Zay’s childcare has been a group effort. When Allie went back to work I began caring for him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Allie worked from home on Mondays, while also running her business. Denzel has him on Wednesdays and on Fridays his parents trade back and forth.
This week they toured a preschool and it sounds like he will begin in a few months. I felt a little sad thinking about ending our Gigi / Zay days, but preschool will be good for him. He’s ready to be with other kids his age. The school is excellent and diverse. Except for his father, most of the faces he’s seen around him are white. When we’re out in public and Zay sees a black person he just stares at them. He needs to know more people who look like Dada.
Grandmothers In Love
I hope Zay has a little brother or sister. Siblings are important. I will share in caring for him or
her, until they are ready for preschool. By that time I will be around 70 years old. I have been
helping raise kids since I was 13. I had my first child at 23. I have a degree in developmental
psychology and I ran a licensed home daycare. I have been a nanny, a babysitter and a live-in au pair. I took care of kids as babies who are now in their fifties. Raising children has been the
longest, strongest thread woven throughout my life. I am ready to be relegated to after school
pick up and special occasion Gigi.
I have dedicated my life to supporting others and helping them succeed. I have three daughters, a step-daughter and five grandchildren. I’ve had three husbands. My kids are all successful people and I am proud of them, individually and collectively, but with my eldest it’s easiest to see how I wouldn’t be who I am if not for her, and she wouldn’t be who she is if not for me. Our circumstances were fragile, and it was my first time being a parent. We succeeded through grit and will and perseverance and love. It’s my time. If not now, then when?
Life is fleeting and ephemeral and all the cliches. We don’t know how much time we have. I still work, and probably will for quite a while. I do some volunteering and that’s important to me, but I’d like to get back to writing. I’ve been so disconnected from it and my concentration skills have been sabotaged by the internet and the pandemic and the politics of our time. And the grandchildren.
It’s been an intense nine year run with the grandkids. Three of them were born prematurely, at 31, 32 and 35 weeks. It’s been dreamy and tedious and made my spirit soar. At times it almost broke me. I will never forget the winter day that I tried to get Finn into his car seat after ski lessons. He yelled at me: I hate you, my crazy stupid grandmother and I’m going to split your head open with an axe! He said this while wearing head to toe camouflage. We’ve moved past that and Finn has settled down, but that moment was hard to shake, as much as I know it wasn’t personal. It rarely is.
Zay's grandfather is so eager for Zay to talk. His verbal skills are snowballing. He’s saying new words every day. There’s no stopping it. I’m not in such a hurry for the words. Kids say the cutest things, but I have had words hurled at me that I didn’t need to hear. He’ll get there. Just give him time.
Monday, January 25, 2021
Baby Boy - Adventures With Finn
At almost 16 months, Finn has yet to get on an airplane. By this age his sister was a frequent flyer, logging a trip to London and numerous trips to the East Coast. Finn has only been able to go to a playground recently. For months they were all closed due to the pandemic. And yet, he has developed beautifully. He was an early walker and started saying quite a few words just after one. He’s wiry and strong. When you look at him in the tub he’s absolutely ripped. He’s a towhead with the bluest eyes and only four teeth – two top and two bottom. The top two look like they belong to a china doll. The bottom teeth resemble a beaver. He climbs on everything, like it or not. He seems to be mechanically inclined with his mother’s perseverance. Prior to Finn, I’d never seen a toddler figure out how to unlock a baby gate.
Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Home Buying

I am 62 years old. We are five months into the global coronavirus pandemic. Life is different in almost every way imaginable. We don’t travel. We don’t take airplanes. We stay at home. We shelter in place. Until this, I didn’t even know the government could order us to shelter in place, let alone for months at a time. It’s nerve-wracking and anxiety provoking and socially isolating. We think we had the virus in March, but we’re not certain. We both ended up on inhalers for a time. I still use mine sometimes. Initially, we were excited by the idea that we might be immune. Now, it seems it may be possible to get it again. This virus is evil. It’s very good at what it does.
In addition to selling real estate, I help out with my granddaughter whileLucy and her husband work. Childcare is tedious and boring and relentless and also incredibly rewarding. If I hadn’t been one of Lila’s main care givers, I probably wouldn’t have seen her very much. Instead, I saw her all the time. We bonded like crazy. When she was a baby we went with Mommy when she travelled for work. We went to London once and New York three times. Lila practiced crawling at the Gramercy Park Hotel. She spent her first three years, nine months in art galleries and museums and zoos. She started pre-school and was beginning to have a social life. She thrived on living in the city and loved culture and stimulation.
When COVID-19 forced employees to work from home Lucy, Greg, Lila and 6 month- old Finn fled San Francisco. They began to shelter in place in Tahoe in March. Lucy was still on maternity leave, but her return to work deadline was looming. We sat at home in Mill Valley doing jigsaw puzzles, reading and fretting. We watched far too much political news. We drank too much wine. We ate like we were on a cruise ship. At the end of every meal we thought about the next meal. We were nervous about going out to the store. I quarantined the mail when it arrived at the house. We missed seeing Finn and Lila and our other grandkids, Sally and Leo.
Lucy and Greg were planning to return to San Francisco when Lucy started her new job at Instagram. They had no childcare in Tahoe. They really didn’t want to go back to the city. Everything was closed, including pre-school. Finally, it was decided that we would join them in the mountains and take care of the kids while Lucy and Greg worked. Their house wasn’t big enough for Eric and me, two kids, a dog and two parents working from home. We rented a friend’s cabin. It was rustic, but comfortable. When the snow melted the chipmunks moved into the walls, but it was a short walk to the lake. We stayed there for seven weeks. Lila said it had“scary stairs”, but we had everything we needed, and we were fortunate to be able to land there. The lilacs bloomed and then were snowed upon. Spring comes late to Tahoe and it’s subtle. It was a shock to leave my glorious Mill Valley garden with the profusion of roses. There were three colors in Tahoe; green, brown and blue. That’s all.
Luckily for the kids and grandkids, childcare is one of my super-powers. I’ve been caring for kids for fifty years. I began babysitting when I was twelve. I was a live-in nanny at the age of fifteen, taking care of Baby Ben while living at the Gate Hill Coop (aka The Land). I moved from New York to Hollywood at seventeen and was Beck and Chan’s nanny for two years. Later I had a licensed home daycare, caring for numerous kids, including my nephew, Zach. When I got a BA, my degree was in Developmental Psych. I worked in a kindergarten classroom for three years. I raised my own three daughters, which was considerably more difficult than taking care of other people’s children. That was an ongoing surprise to me. It’s a lot easier to shape young minds when you don’t live with them.
It was a Thursday in late May when Lucy suggested it would be nice if we had a house in their neighborhood. She proposed that we could go in on a property together and to let her know if I saw anything I liked. The time was approximately 6:00 pm. Friday morning I woke up and checked realtor.com for listings in Carnelian Bay. I hadn’t joined Tahoe Sierra MLS yet, so my access was the same as every other non-realtor.
I saw a new listing that looked promising. By 10:30 am we were sitting in the driveway on the phone with the agent. By 11:00 we were inside the property with Lucy looking around. The house was perfect. Beautiful and well-maintained and a short distance from the kids and grandkids. Five minutes to the lake. By 1:00 pm we decided to write an offer and sent it over to the agent. We asked for a response by 5:00 pm the next day, which was Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. On Saturday there were several conversations with the agent who was hesitant to accept our offer because we didn’t have a pre-approval letter yet. We weren’t expecting to find a house so quickly, so we did not have our ducks in a row, which is such a rookie mistake. I bullied the agent a bit and talked about how qualified we were and that we were the right buyers for the property. We had included a love letter to the Seller. It was a full price offer! By 5:15 pm the Seller had signed our offer and we were in contract. Boom! That’s the way you buy a house.
I did reach out to several mortgage brokers that day and got a response from someone I had used for clients in the past. She called me and I explained the situation. She agreed to send a pre-approval letter and follow up with the details later. It helps to have relationships in the business. We were able to send the pre-approval letter over a few minutes after the agent sent me the signed contract, so it gave them peace of mind. The inspections were a breeze, all went smoothly, and we closed in less than 30 days despite the pandemic.
I have watched this process so many times with clients, but honestly, I had no idea it was so stressful! Even though I was the agent, representing us as buyers, I was a nervous wreck. I pushed the process along every step of the way, which is what you have to do. It wasa bit of a stretch for us to close early, but it was totally doable. The final week before close we were staying in a hotel and our dog was staying at Lucy and Greg’s. We had been in some sort of limbo for over two months and were really ready to be settled. To close on a Friday instead of the following Tuesday or Wednesday was significant.
The timeline got a little tight at the end. A miscommunication between my insurance agent and the mortgage broker needlessly lost us a day. Everything was a scramble after that. We actually signed the loan docs the morning of the close of escrow, still not knowing whether we would go on record and be able to move in that Friday. In twenty years in the business I have never had buyers sign, fund and go on record all in one day, but it worked out. At 4:00 pm we got an email from the title company that the sale was recorded. We bought the house fully furnished, so by 5:00 pm we were moved in.
Deliveries are another challenge. Amazon does not deliver here, which is fine with me because I don’t like supporting Jeff Bezos, richest man in the world who does not pay taxes. Target may or may not be able to accomplish getting a product from Point A to Point B. It’s kind of hit or miss. The most recent order was most definitely NOT delivered. I went on the website and got a refund for all the items. Shortly thereafter, I got an email from Target. “Your package has been delivered!” Well, actually it hadn’t. And you already cancelled the order and refunded my money.
Bed, Bath and Beyond has been great. Same with Wayfair and Home Depot. I’m still waiting for my contact lenses and two dresses that I ordered from China on June 4th. We have friends nearby who do not exist on any map. They can’t get deliveries at all and have to have their packages sent to Lucy’s. It’s the Wild West in some ways.

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We’ve been helping Lila ride a bike. She is still using training wheels, but she is confident and strong and sure. The steering and balance will follow. She only just turned four. She’s been learning to swim in the lake, and I’ve taken her out in the canoe. We played in the Truckee River and Lila rode a horse. We do whatever we can given Finn’s baby schedule. We paint and draw and listen to music. Then there is rest time. It’s camp. I never went to camp. Now I have a camp: Base Camp Gigi.
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Thank you
Thank you to everyone who called or sent me comments about Allie and Denzel and the Black Lives Matter post. The conversations are happening. Awareness is growing. The protests are continuing. There is momentum. However, we have such a long way to go. The officers who killed Breonna Taylor have not been arrested. Jacob Blake was shot seven times in front of his three little boys. Now two people have been killed during protests over his shooting in Wisconsin. It's shameful. Change cannot come soon enough.
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Black Lives Matter
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
Waste Not Want Not
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Fried Chicken |
Eric had gone out twice during the week and he’d had such a nice time. He neglected to tell me that the beach parking lots were closed, which might have given me pause. Instead, I started driving over the mountain and could not believe what I saw. It was a mob scene. People were walking all over the place and every place a car could be parked, a car was parked. It was like the Fourth of July, although I would never dream of going out to the beach on the Fourth of July. The traffic was ridiculous, but once you’re on the narrow, winding mountain road there is really no turning back, so I forged ahead. None of the usual spots were available so I proceeded to the large parking lot. The gate was locked which explained the mass of cars all the way up the hill.