R.I.P. Maude

A few weeks ago Maude was towed from a questionably legal parking spot, and she was never the same after that. I think her dignity was insulted. At first she refused to play the radio or display the correct time on the clock. After that was fixed, she just plain gave up starting. Or idling. Or some mechanical term that I, as a cat, have no clue about. Anyway, she has not budged for several weeks now while Martin and Erika rent various horrid cheap American cars and try to find a replacement for dear old Maude. A younger, more Harold-like vehicle. No, they are not considering jet-black XKEs, more along the lines of Subaru wagons that fit infant car seats comfortably in the back seat.

They haven't been trying too hard, between a 5-day trip to Maui, a weekend trip to L.A. for Erika, and a weekend trip to Portland for Martin. Next weekend for sure. Maui is the home of Erika's maternal grandmother's youth, and after this most recent visit, Erika is happy to know that Nana did not live to see Lahaina turned into a strip mall. Why does there need to be a Hard Rock Cafe in paradise? Happily, the rest of the island is still incredibly beautiful and mostly unspoiled by the blight of chain stores that has ruined most of the rest of the country. Erika found snorkeling especially relaxing, as it helped her forget about the extra 30 lbs she is carrying around her middle. Martin ate poke and pineapple to his heart's content and even a little beyond that. Their bedroom was so close to the beach that the noise from the pounding of the surf actually woke them up the first few nights. Now THAT is a vacation.

Back in San Francisco, the Microhoo debate continues to rage, and Erika continues to try and finish her work project up before the baby makes an appearance. MUNI is getting less and less tolerable as a transportation option for a largely pregnant woman [insert chivalry rant here]. Erika actually managed to scare someone in Peet's the other day, simply by turning around and revealing the full extent of The Belly. The baking frenzy has slowed to a trickle, manifesting itself only in a small batch of chocolate chip cookies today. However, the company Iron Chef contest is coming up in less than a week, which should inspire a last burst of creativity in the kitchen before we settle back into our burritos and Thai take-out diet. Luckily there are local options like Blue Plate (coconut cream pie to die for and it's practically across the street from our apartment) and, most recently, the fabulous and New York-esque Bar Tartine to break up the monotony. Marrow, anyone? Duck with fois gras agnoletti? Come on down...

The nesting urge is still present, but it has somehow switched to the Gardening Channel. Ever since the discovery of Flora Grubb (thanks Jice!), Erika has been dying to buy plants. Today was the big purchase day, and as soon as there is a break in the monsoon, the deck buddha will have the company of 3 new plants (2 succulents and some kind of winter-blooming other plant) in 3 lovely new pots. There is even a planter for herbs, which still need to be purchased. It's a start. The root-bound ficus will get a new home at the same time. Hopefully all of this loveliness will inspire the sun to return to San Francisco.

In other news, I plan to sleep through the Oscars tomorrow night while Erika watches with a girlfriend. Will Cate finally be recognized for her SECOND portrayal of Queen Elizabeth? Will Viggo come from behind to beat out DDL? Erika has no idea because she saw very few of the nominated films. Stay tuned...5pmPT. Despite her mixed feelings about the Coen brothers, her money is on "No Country for Old Men" for best picture...