This week we lost one of the great hearts and minds of our generation. Steve Jobs.



Sometimes we connect with someone over little things that with others we wouldn’t find significant. Well, here are mine.


I went to his high school, and remember my math teacher telling us about the mischief the two Steves got up to.


Our family had an Apple when we were growing up…. which would not be significant today, but this was (ahem) a REALLY long time ago. We were pretty early adopters as Mac users…so we have fond memories of many, many versions of the Mac. I even got to play with an old NeXT computer at my office.

Mike gave me an engraved ipod as a wedding present. He went to MacWorld several times and saw Steve make some of his historic announcements.

I recall hearing his Stanford graduation speech when I was working graduation (though of course as staff prepping for a dept. graduation, you never get to see the stadium ceremony. Every year we would tune in to it via the radio broadcast while we set up our chairs and diplomas.)


When Steve got cancer, I connected with him on that level…as my mom got it around the same time as he did. I think part of my grief over him is related to my grief over her.

I know in someone else these things might not resonate…but in Steve, it made us feel like we knew him a little bit, like he was one of us and we were all in this together.


So today we went by his house and left a tribute. Thanks for all you gave us Steve, we will miss you.

We’ve been to Filoli three times since it reopened in February. We went on Grandmommy’s birthday with the family, as has become our tradition.

Looking back through our photos I am reminded how happy Grandmommy was there, despite her illness. (The first photo below is Lucy now…the one next to it is Grandmommy in the same space 3 years ago. )

How peaceful and relaxing and ‘away from it all’ it is here.

Practicing trick or treating….and our pumpkins

the downtown area was well decorated…

there were loads of trick or treaters…and luckily the forecasted rain never showed!

Auntie met us there for the trick-o-treating, and a spot of lunch.

Afterwards Minnie Mouse tried her hands at the crafts. She made a bear magnet and a pipe-cleaner spider (which was her favorite).

Two streets had been blocked off to allow for stress-free kid roaming. There was even a parade!

Someone still isn’t that interested in candy…her favorite items were a cat finger puppet and the cat stickers auntie gave her. Happy Halloween!

“Yes, he is annoying because he doesn’t wake up at 9 or 10 or 11 or 12!”
— Lucy commenting on Wubert’s early morning breakfast demands

“I’m a little girl and he’s not a gentleman so he’s not my little baby!”
— Lucy explaining why Wubie can’t be one of her “babies” (like her dollies)

“Hey look at this—a tall Wubie with a smile!”
“That’s Wubie at night playing baseball! That’s his window, and his treehouse, and his bat, and his baseball!”
— Lucy explaining her latest drawings of Wubert

Way back in 1998, Jill and I had been in our condo for a few short months when we realized something was missing.

1998 was a big year for us. I’d (finally) gotten my BA from SJSU, began working fulltime in Palo Alto, and settled down in a peaceful, quiet condo with Jill. Looking back, it was probably too peaceful and quiet, because we both came to agreement that we longed for the pitter-patter of little feet.

Yep, we needed a cat.

We started looking around, and one day dropped by a local pet store that occasionally showed off rescued cats in need of homes. The store had a little room in the back that housed about a half-dozen cages. On this day the little room held captive a clowder of Persian cats that had been rescued by the aptly titled Persian Cat Rescue Society.

Though we weren’t looking for a Persian, we walked into the room and took a look at the wall of cages, each one housing a pair of cats and a litter box. As we strode by each cage, Jill would give a kind word to each cat:

“Hi, little feller! Aren’t you a cutie!”
“Hiiiiii! Meow, meow, little guy!”
“Look at you! Oh, what a pretty tail you have!”

We were almost finished w/ our little tour when Jill stopped in her tracks in front of a cage. Inside, taking up most of the metal box was a big fluffed out Persian. But next to the Persian, relegated to a permanent spot in the litter box due to the tight confines of the cage, was a small, quiet(!) Siamese cat. Yep, it was Wubie. For Jill, it was love at first sight.

“OH, HI, LITTLE KITTY! LOOK AT YOU! YOU’RE SO SWEET!”

She immediately tried touching the object of her affection, plunging her fingers between the metal bars of the cage. Seeing this, Wubie stepped out of the litter box and flicked on his “charm” switch. (Funnily enough, I think this is the last time he flicked on his charm switch, the little con artist!) He pressed himself against the cage, allowing Jill to pet him while he purred quietly(!)

“Oh, this is the one! I want him!” Jill said excitedly.

“Are you sure?” I asked as I eyeballed the cat. “He’s not a kitten, ya know. He’s a full grown cat.”

“He’s the one!”

I looked at the cat again. “Pretty cat,” I thought. “He seems friendly and low-key.” (yep, famous last words.)

So, while Jill staked out the cage w/ her “claimed” cat, I went looking for a store employee who could help us out. To my surprise, none of the employees could assist with the cat. Instead, they referred us to a Persian Cat Rescue Society flyer with a contact phone number. Remember, this was 1998, so neither of us had a cell phone.

Jill reluctantly left Wubert as we both went out in search of a pay phone. Luckily, we found one right outside the shop. However, our hopes were dashed when our call led to an answering machine.

We left an excited, semi-coherent message, pledging our dedication and commitment to this newly discovered caged beastie, made sure to leave our contact info, and hung up.

I remember that call very well. By that time, Jill’s admiration for this new cat had become contagious. I wanted this cat too. And there he was, looking pitiful and depressed, hunkered down in a litter box behind bars. But we couldn’t save him. The only thing we could do was say goodbye and go home to wait for a call that might never come. We felt utterly powerless.

Time went by, enough time for us to conjure up paranoid thoughts of assorted miscreants swooping in and taking our cat. But then the call came.

“Yes, we want the cat!” Jill said to the woman on the phone.

“Are you sure? He’s a Siamese cat you know.”

“Yes!” Jill said. “I’ve had Siamese before. I know what to expect.”

“What to expect? What are they even talking about?” I thought as I listened in. The majority of my experience had been with gray tabbies. “Whatever. A cat’s a cat,” I decided.

Arrangements were made. When the day came, we drove off to the pet shop, excited as can be. When we saw Wubert, he looked worse for wear than our previous meeting. He now had an infected eye and was looking rather glum.

However, this time we were able to do something about it. We filled out the required paperwork, paid our “adoption” fee, and excitedly purchased cat food, toys, and a litterbox for our new charge.

Once we got him home, our new roommate took some tentative steps around the condo before doing some full-fledged exploring. We named him “Mr. Wu” which eventually turned into “Wubert”. Lately he’s been “Wubie”, the moniker Lucy applied to him.

Now here we are, almost 13 years later. Having Wubie has been great. He’s been a loyal (well, as loyal as a cat can be!) constant companion. However, I now understand much better what it means to share a home with a Siamese cat. Shortly after the adoption, Wubert shed the quiet, tentative demeanor. Once he became fully comfortable, he decided to wave his Siamese freak flag high.

Some observations about Siamese cats:

• They are loud and proud
• If they are lonely or bored, they will let you know about it, loudly
• They are stubborn
• I truly believe that they see many daily interactions as a struggle of wills
• They are incredibly perceptive (Wubert will run and hide if he thinks Jill and I are doing anything that looks remotely conspiratorial. He can sense when a trip to the V-E-T is imminent)
• Have I mentioned they’re loud?

Anyway, that’s the rather longwinded story of how we met Wubert all those years ago. Now, here’s some stuff that’s a little more recent:

Wubie’s getting older, so now he has to see the doctor every now and then. These are some pictures from a recent trip to the V-E-T (we spell it out when in front of him)

The above two pics were taken in the V-E-T’s office. The pic on the right was snapped after Wubie came home after a two day stay at the hospital. They had to put him under while he was there, so they shaved a little window in his sleeve where the needle for the anaesthesia was placed. Here’s a close-up of Wubie’s “window”:

More pics of Wubie after his return home. The left picture above shows him playing the role of customer at Lucy’s “store.” The pic on the right shows the two taking a break.

And here are two last pics of the partners in crime just hanging out. Young Kid and Old Cat—sounds like a cop buddy movie.

BTW, long before this blog was created, Wubie had his own web site. We have an archived version of it here.

“Phalaenopsis, phalaenopsis…pretty flower, pretty flower… “(to the tune of Frère Jacques)
— Lucy’s song after visiting the orchid farm

We’ve had a pretty mild summer, a few hot days here and there. On the hot ones we head out of town…to the foggy city or to the cool beach. Here are some snaps from our summer so far, mostly beach pics. Stay tuned for part 2…

Notable happenings from the past month:

• Celebrating Jill’s birthday in SF (too bad John couldn’t make it!)
• Easter Egg Hunt at Gma Vita’s place
• BJ Penn Book Signing
• Getting together with old friends, including Kelly

Stuff I’ve watched/read this month:

Movies & Books

Last week we went to see the daffodil hill at Filoli…it’s a great place to run around!

Grandmommy loved the daffodils…we imagined her enjoying them with us, just like we did when Lucy was a baby.

We were reading one of Lucy’s fave books, Father Christmas by Raymond Briggs, when Lucy decided it was about time to write her letter to Father Christmas.

We got out her letter-writing kit, and with some prompting, she dictated to me:

Dear Father Christmas,

I like your reindeer. I would like a train set. And Wubert would like a dry towel.

(The dry towel being for after he got out of the tub and was a “soggy moggy.”)

I left the room for a moment, and when I came back, she had started to write another letter in her own hand. So I left her to it.

She used all the stamps on her letter, just in case.

A bit later I wandered back in to see Wubert in the midst of creating his own letter. I suspect he did not want a dry towel after all…and was making his wishes known.

We sent the letters out the next day. We’ll keep an eye on the post and report any interesting mail.

Here are some examples of Lucy’s first stab at painting. She LOVED it. She is asking even now (in her sleep!) to paint. I think we may move on to watercolors next, and after that, maybe making some egg-carton caterpillars with auntie…the sky’s the limit.

p.s. the artist is quoted as saying that most of these paintings are of ‘Kipper‘ or his nose or ears.

Last year I posted a couple of videos based on pics taken from the first twelve months of Lucy’s life. The videos were called “Year One (pts 1 and 2)”, and yes, the title was lifted from the Batman comic. Now that Lucy has completed her Year 2, here’s a video based on pics taken from January – June of 2008. I’ll post a second video for July – December, 2008 soon.

• Music: “The Hindu Times” from Heathen Chemistry by Oasis
• “Metal Guru” from The Slider by T Rex
• “Hateful” from London Calling by The Clash