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The joys of Glen Ellen living

 

Last weekend was surely a time to revel in the unique diversity that is Glen Ellen - in all its complexity and variety.

I often marvel at the good fortune that befell Sweetie and me when we chose this as our hometown. It almost didn't happen. Our real estate agent was having a heck of a time finding a loan for us. Apparently, no bank was willing to take a chance on this one-horse, motorcycle hang-out, much less our Creekbottom cottage. Still, we persisted and eventually prevailed. Last weekend was a fine time to celebrate that.

After a cooling Sunday morning swim at Sonoma Aquatic Center (and I do so miss its old moniker, ACAC, which sounds not unlike the gurgling utterances one makes when inhaling chlorine), I returned home via Arnold Drive, stopping for lunchtime treats at Jack London Village, near the Grist Mill. Their farmers market runs every Sunday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. My first visit was last week.

What a delight. I've long been a customer of the Sonoma farmers market (and am especially impressed with Bill Dardon's direction this year) but wow, our Glen Ellen market is clearly superior.

Walking over the swaying catenary spanning Graham Creek, my first stop was at the Glen Ellen Historical Society's booth, manned (of course) by sad-eyed Jim Shere. Despite his ever-present look of sympathy (which adds to his reputation as the very best therapist) he is upbeat and enthusiastic about sharing the history of our town. The society's latest gambit is collecting and cataloging historical photos. If you're one of the Glen Ellen old timers, stop by.

Following the vendor's circle clockwise, my next stop was the tiny table where Mickey Cooke sat ready to register new voters. Wisely, Mickey remained circumspect about her own affiliation, preferring instead to simply encourage others. Long since having reached that majority, Mickey and I just gabbed.

While I am not a horsewoman, Mickey certainly is and she regaled me with a stunning tale of her daring 2002 wild ride through the Steppes of Asia. Galloping through glowing red poppy fields or prancing through acres of golden wheat fields, Mickey's story was thrilling. This was her second visit to Iran, a country she's grown to love, though never so much as home.

Turning from there, I visited the Cloverdale potter with his brightly colored collection of plates and bowls of all sizes. That will be my first stop next week. Rounding the curve, I ogled jewelry from a Sonoma artist, inhaled the fragrance from a flower vendor, going on to purchase my dinner from Oak Hill Farm's booth.

Choosing brilliant beets, cheery orange carrots and ruffled rainbow chard, I had the ingredients for delicious dinner. Conversing with Catherine Driggers and her chef from Olive and Vine exponentially enhanced my skills.

They made some delicious suggestions that I used to impress said Sweetie.

My Sunday visit to the Glen Ellen farmers market ended with brief hello and a sad farewell to Pat Spicer. She and her sweetie, Bill Spicer, are leaving their Glen Ellen home to move closer to their daughter in Eugene, Ore. While we will miss meeting Pat on the woodsy trails of the GE Regional Park, we will still keep you apprised of each new poetry volume she publishes.

My excursion surely should have ended with a visit the newly re-opened gallery ARThouse. Their current show features pastel landscapes by James Reynolds.

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Share your good news with friends and neighbors in Glen Ellen. Call or write me at the numbers up there by my smile. Or email me at Creekbottom@earthlink.net. Glen Ellen chatter rarely requires timeliness; however, if your news does, please be sure to contact me at least two weeks before the run date.