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Wednesday, January 20th, 2016 03:07 pm
I'm probably overthinking this.

So I got a bill from Blue Shield for over two hundred dollars for my first month of 2016. Considering that my original fee had been a dollar a month, and last year's had been $22 a month, it seemed out of line. Granted, percentage-wise it was less of an increase (a bit more than 2000% the first year and a bit less than 1000% the second year)...and of course my income has not risen at all and my other costs keep increasing too.

So I called to straighten it out, and eventually, after a couple of days of bad connections, frightening error messages, and lots of apologetic confusion from the stalwart souls who staff the front lines at the Blue Shield and Covered California call centers, it emerged that I didn't belong on Covered California because I don't make enough money. I was supposed to go to Medi_Cal instead.

California residents will understand my mixed feelings when I got this news. Medi-Cal is free, the coverage is fine...but doctors generally don't take Medi-Cal patients. I mean they flat-out don't, or they say they do "but we're not taking new patients just now." Plus, there's the issue that if I make any money at all, I'll be kicked off again and have to go back to the exchange and find a plan I can afford that will cover what I need.

First things first: according to the website, my primary doctor takes Medi-Cal. So if that works out, I'll be fine.

But let's return to my eligibilty. This freaks me out no end, because: Covered California uses line 37 of the tax return to determine eligibility, and Medi-Cal uses gross income. And if I understood all those people correctly the lower limit for Covered California this year is $16K+something. I can't confirm or correct this number looking around online: it seems to be a secret that you only learn if you dip below it. Meanwhile, according to the letter I got from Medi-Cal, if my income goes above $13,354 a month, I'm no longer eligibile. That's almost the same number: it might be exactly the same number.

However, line 37 on the tax return is the adjusted gross income and it is lower than the entire gross income. Why this matters to me is that my Covered California income is therefore under $10K a year, while my Medi-Cal income is about $20 a month less than the cap. If I get a job or sell a story will I have to change medical coverage again? I was thinking that since my legs work again I could be a substitute teacher. Will I have to change medical coverage during the school year and again in the summer? If I sell one story, I'll be over the limit for Medi-Cal that month but under the limit for Covered California for the year. I'm afraid to ask about it, actually. I considered dropping olut of the system but my barebones prescriptions (5 medicines, the rest are OTC) are four hundred dollars a month without coverage. I've been working towards dropping more drugs, but I can't drop them all.

Can we say it together? SOCIALIZE THE GODDAMN MEDICINE. Save your grandma!

Which reminds me of the thing I think is going on with the right wing: they really, really, really hate their mothers. Everything else derives from that.

On another front, it has rained sixteen out of twenty days here, but we're still running lower than average in rainfall totals and we're still at 67% full in the reservoirs here. It's worse in some areas. 
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Sunday, November 15th, 2015 11:44 am
The rain woke me last night. I sleep right under the roof in a the low end of the eaves of a converted attic, so the water was drumming less than a yard above my head. I went downstairs to pee, and the little dog woke, heard a noise she had never heard in her life before, and barked and barked to warn me.


At six in the morning the rain was very light and the wind was gentle and gusty. I couldn't find my raincoat so I just threw on another layer of hoody and we went for our walk as usual. The drops were fat and slow and Zluta liked it at first. Dogs are often delighted with a bit of wind, and she was, happy to be out before dawn. I was composing poetry in my head about the familiarity of rain after a long absence, the way the streetlamps halo in it, the bright crosshatches of ripples in the swift-running gutters, the leaves sticking to the sidewalk. When we were just turning back towards home--not quite a mile away--the rain started coming down hard again and we both got soaked through.

For Zluta the heavy-rain experience--unlike the light-rain experience--was unpleasant, even frightening, even though she loves cavorting in the water from the garden hose, which often comes out stronger than this rain. But the difference: she can run into the water and out again, it's not relentless like the rain this morning. She tried cowering from it, dodging it, shaking it off, seeking shelter. I just urged her on, reminding her we were not far from home and we'd get dry as soon as we got there. When we were a couple of blocks away she cheered up and began hurrying straight forward, going as fast as I would let her (I am not running on wet streets with even with my brand new deep-tread waterproof hiking boots. I am taking no risks of ruining my perfect new titanium knees by falling at some stupid angle). When we got home I raced us into the bathroom where I rubbed her down wiuth a towel while she flailed around. She liked that part but it was a bit overstimulating for her, so that she ended up racing around looking for things to shred. Then I stripped out of my wet clothes (wet down to the skin, except my feet were dry) and rolled myself into some dry clothes. And I thought I didn't want to write a poem about it after all. I hardly ever want to write poems: it's not a medium that often fits my way of thinking and feeling. I'm a bit embarrassed about yesterday's poem: it's not very good, but I think it has a good one buried in it if I took the time to dig it out of the muck. Also, I'd want to give it a subtitle.

The rain starts and stops. The wind blows up and wuthers around the house. The trees outside my window go into panicked placating ritual dances until the wind dies down again. Zluta is ill at ease, wants even more attention than usual.

I spent too much time yesterday trying to refresh my memory about military ranks and found out some things I didn't need to learn at this stage because I don't need more details about army life in the previous fin de siecle. Also I had underestimated the recovery needs from the carpal tunnel release I had Monday. I am really, really, really tired. But compared to the "real" surgeries I just had, it's just a wee snip and hardly any re-arranging of my body parts. Still. That's how it is. Even so, I am now taking the steepest hill in my neighborhood like a normal person, no mincing steps at all. My friend Glen's driveway, now, that's another thing. It's much steeper and caltropped with eucalyptus pods, so when I took Zluta there to play with Glen's dog Abby, it was toothgrit all the way down. Up is not a thing, though.
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Wednesday, July 16th, 2014 08:25 am
The latest attempt to split California into little bitty pieces has achieved a pile of signatures to turn in. I never did figure out how to complain about the deceptive signature gathering techniques being used in Santa Cruz. The man with the clipboards was asking people if they wanted to sign a petiution to allow local governments to outlaw fracking on their own. Only after the mark had the pen in their hand did he add "it will create six separate governments --"

So this morning I'm trying to fiund out. I don't know his name, and it was a couple of months ago that I interacted with him, but I feel that I must say something.

Headlines are that California residential water use actually increased in the month of May, but only in two places: the Los Angeles basin and the far northeast. The rest of us made cuts, the biggest being in the north coast. The central coast, which was already using less per capita water than most, cut ten percent more.

We were asked to cut twenty percent. (My house cut 36 per cent, but that was partly because we had a leak that we had been trying to fix and we finally fixed it)

So now the state's authorized fines for water wastage and has instituted outdoor water restrictions.

Well, good and all, but when I read what the Valley local governments were calling for as water conservation methods for their communities, I was kind of appalled at how minimal they were. They were asking for an end to midday sprinkling, for example. That crap's been off the table for decades in the Central Coast.

Last night there was a power shortage. It wasn't long, and it was really local, but it's the kind of thing that used to get a sentence in the local news roundup in the paper. When I went to see if there was any explanation on the Santa Cruz Sentinel website I didn't find it, which was a minor annoyance, but the "breaking news" local page had nothing that was actually local breaking news by any definition. Everything was human interest, several days old, and most of it was Salinas. The fact that the editor's mailto address had the domain of the Monterey Herald is not enough to explain this. They do still pay a couple of local reporters. But they aren't covering any breaking news. Let me be clear: although I went there to see if there was an explanation for my power outage, the lack of coverage on that issue was not what struck me. It was the lack of any kind of news whatever. Now, it's the geographically smallest county in the state aside from San Francisco, but demographically, it's above the median (number 24 out of 58). That's a quarter of a million people whose doings are of no interest to the local newspaper of record.

On another front. the "normal summer weather pattern" has been very moist here locally, advancing nearly to rain status. The normal summer weather pattern is fog (high fog in Santa Cruz) in the mornings and evenings, and sun in the afternoon. Usually we get one good rainstorm sometime in July. This is not that. This is more like the fog is heavier than usual, though still high in the sky, and is letting some of its moisture loose. The ground is getting wet, anyway, which is good.

Surprisingly enough, my plums are ready now, almost a month earlier than usual.
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Thursday, May 8th, 2014 08:02 pm
Just looked outside and it's definitely wet. Can't really call that rain, but it is water on the ground that came from the sky. Guess I should put out some pots to catch it.
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Tuesday, May 6th, 2014 02:24 pm
How bad is it? This is how bad it is. I tried to find a better view of the map, but basically, there's no water anywhere, and there's even less water in the Central Coast and the southern Valley. I live in the Central Coast. One good/bad thing is that all our water comes from here -- no water from the Sierra Nevada, no water from the Delta, no water from the Feds -- probably mostly good this year because nobody's turning out water off but Mother Nature. There's other places where the feds have turned off the water, literally shutting down valves to the irrigation canals.

Personally, there's been something wrong at my house. Even though none of us are water wasters in general, we've been running 30% over the target (which allows 50 gallons a day for each person). So we've been undertaking various steps to decrease water use and look for problems. Keith found the toilet valve spewing water in a new way: I'm guessing it was leaking more subtly before too. Anyway, he fixed that. I fixed the dishwasher which needed a new door gasket so we can start using that: it's supposed to save significant water over handwashing if you only run it full. We're adjusting bathing and laundry routines. I'm sad to say I am now taking 8 gallon baths twice a week. Apparently that's a lot less than a usual bath uses. But there are consequences. That grey water gets really, really grey when you bathe only twice a week and you use so little water . . . and it means if I'm going to have enough grey water to flush the toilet I have to get pretty fanatical about scooping every drop of water into the buckets. With the water being so grey, I've taken to putting a drop of bleach in each bucket so they don't fester.

I'm actually going ahead with the summer garden, but I'm watering in drips and drops. I have not invested in a dripline because I believe I need to understand my garden better before I do it. Meanwhile I'm checking the soil before I water and only adding enough to make it moist down at the root level. No showering the whole bed to get it over and done with. Naturally I have bought mulch but it's not been applied yet.

On the laundry front -- the one roommate whose cat has a habit of peeing on her bed has decided to use the laundromat sometimes. I haven't had the guts to tell everyone to quite doing weird little loads of one color, because who wants to be the person who says "I don't care if your clothes all turn grey so long as I don't have to pay the fine for being over ration?" Though I've been doing it for years, and I almost never get  running colors or dinge from that source. I do have other issues with laundry, though, which are not relevant here but which would kind of undermine my position that sorting clothes is unnecessary with modern dye technology.

Meanwhile, my drinking water needs seem to keep growing. I'm up to "must drink more than four gallons  four quarts or I will [redacted for TMI issues]"
 But that's less than ten percent   three percent of my allotment.

Upshot! (or temporary upshot anyway) Remember we were thirty percent above our ration? The ration is 200 gallons per day for my house (and most houses in Santa Cruz). So we were using like 260 gallons a day, or more. Today I read my meter and then called the water department for help in understanding what's up with it. In the last twenty-six days we've used seven something or other units, which you multiply by 748 (no typo) to get the number of total gallons. Multiplying by 748 and dividing by 26 is 201, which is . . . wait for it . . .

one gallon per day over the ration!

That's 59 gallons a day less. Considering that the time included is transitional, that is before and after various changes we made, it bodes well.
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Monday, March 31st, 2014 01:52 pm
I decided not to buy and install a rain barrel this year (they are only 45 dollars from the city water department) because there wasn't any rain.

I believe that today I could have filled the whole thing.

I am filling what I can, but I won't be able to save it for long.
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Sunday, February 2nd, 2014 07:24 am
I left laundry on the line and it's raining raining and I don't care because it's raining
I don't think I remembered to close the car windows all the way and I don't carfe because it's raining raining
and I have to walk to my friend's birthday today and I don't care becausde it's raining raining
and sometimes the dog won't go out in it and she has an accident and I don't care because it's raining raining
and it won't be enough to stop the drought but it's raining raining

It's raining

I woke up and it's raining, really really raining

Hope it lasts all day and all night


edit: it's slowing down already
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Sunday, January 19th, 2014 02:13 pm
One thing you can say about plants is they tend to be pretty optimistic. Stress them, and what do they do? Set seed.

It hasn't rained all season but a fraction of an inch back there in October, right? But the lemons are ripening on time and there's green stuff sticking up all over (where are they getting the water?) and my quince monster is covered in scarlet flowers. This is not, unfortunately, the eating kind of quince, but it makes the birds and the bees pretty happy.

I guess I'm an optimist too because yesterday I planted an Italian Prune tree, mainly for Zack because he likes them better than he does the Satsuma plums and you cannot buy them around here but by infinite cleverness and sweat. I also planted artichokes and oregano. Yes, I planted oregano again. I am having a lot of trouble finding the spot.

Yesterday I fetched my banjo back from upstairs at Union Grove and started trying to figure out a Macedonian dance song ("Dedo mili zlatni")on it. Why shouldn't I? Boundaries are antithetical to music. My banjo is very happy to be cleaned up and tended to. It holds a tuning very well now, too, which is a relief. I used to barely make it through a rendition of "Roving Gambler," which is not exactly a very long song. Tomorrow my new autoharp (excuse me, chromaharp) is supposed to arrive. I shelled out more money so I could have the 21-chord kind because it does make a difference in what songs you can squeeze on to it. I mean, "Wildwood Flower" is a very fine song, but there's more to life than that.

Spent a much longer time today than I should have daydreaming on the onlinbe fabric store sites. I have become such a consumer now that I have clothes.
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Tuesday, October 13th, 2009 04:45 pm
From the NOAA site, we learn this:


SAN CRUZ COUNTY
BOUC1 LAS CUMBRS PK 2760`......... 5.47
BNDC1 BEN LOMD RAWS 2630`......... 7.53
BUSC1 BURRELL FIRE 1850`.......... 5.24
DAPC1 DAVENPORT 10`............... 2.04
RRDC1 RIDER ROAD 1123`............ 4.53
EKNC1 EUREKA CANYON 1700`......... 5.63
SOQC1 SOQUEL 21`.................. 2.91
PVYC1 PLEASNT VALLEY 360`......... 2.56
CTOC1 CORRALITOS RAWS............. 4.35

Sorry abut the antiquated measurement system, those are inches. This is the first measurable rain since May. To put it into perspective, Ben Lomond gets about 60 inches of rain average (up to 80 in a really disaastrously wet year). Lower elevations get more like 30 inches a year, 20 in South County (the sites are listed north to south).

To put it another way, nine more days like this would fill our quota (but not end the not-quite-official drought, if we really got all the rain in ten days of storm: that would result in all the rain running out to sea and nothing left behind for the watersheds, streams or underground).

Stuff is going to wash down the hillsides, especially the burned-over ones.
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Saturday, May 9th, 2009 03:44 pm
Today, in the front yard:
Pruned 3 salvias, 3 roses, cuphea, moria, a little bit of the flowering quince, and some tips of the front yard lemon tree, purned, dead twigs pulled out. Some nasturtium and violets pulled out of the areas around that weird madagascar geranium I'm encouraging to naturalize. Planted the western sword fern and the salvia and the weird-ass fuchsia, leaving only the yerba buena to plant out of the stuff from the arboretum/native plants society sale, yesteray, I think: I'm goingto regret the salvia because it's the greigia-microphylla kind and it needs more than the space I put it into and it's in the right position to take over the gateway. Maybe I'll move it before it gets settled, if I decide I can put it on the other side of the front yard.

The greencycle can, which is huge, is full.

In the back yard:
I took some stuff out of the purple mexican sage and the pineapple sage (do you detect a trend here? salvias are largely nearly natives, and they can take a wide range of water and light conditions, don't let anybody fool you: for the central coast, they're even more forgiving than fuchsias). Planted something called "berggarten sage," which has fat leaves and looks cute, also french thyme which is indisztinguishable from the english thyme nad the german thyme it's growing with, an orange mint (no, I do not have too many varieties of mint, thank you: only grapefruit, chocolate, orange, and pineapple and of course peppermint and spearmint. You can't have enough varieties of mint, sage, thyme, or oregano. I'd say basil too but I can't grow basil to save my life). Also planted lemon verbena, without which my life is not complete: it's just about the first plant I grew as an independent person and I am in love with it. I don't care if it's lanky and ungainly looking, I don't care if it's close to useless and has no striking features. It smells like every good thing I ever did.

Spent another two hundred dollars on wood and stuff. When Zac pulled the sliding door out of the wall upstairs he discovered that the framing wood is rotted almost all the way away, partly termites and partly water damage. So that wall needs to be substantially rebuilt. He said to a friend we met at the lumber yard "I have to stop taking up boards. Every time I do I discover another huge mess."

Paul suggested he might just stop looking at what he's doing . . .

On another front, they arrested Frank again. They had said they would mail him his instructions but instead armed policemen showed up at his door and took him to the station where they kept him under arrest while they filled out papers. His instructions: he has to be out by June 15th (he will probably be done by then) and he can't apply for a new visa till he's been out of the country for thirty days (he was going to spend a month and a half or so at home if he didn't have to take a class in Prague this summer).

Nobody actually came down and said it was a shakedown, and when Frank didn't mention the possibility of paying them for the privilege of being treating according to the law, they didn't either, and they didn't do anything worse to him than to interrupt his peace of mind and make him miss a class.

My new camera takes panorama shots and also can do closeups to 2 centimeters.

And it's harder to get redwood cones out of dog leg-feather hair than anything else in the world. I have had to take a scissors to Roxy (the temporary dog, who is going back to my nbrother-in-law Monday and I would hate to send her with mats and burrs all over her).
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Thursday, April 30th, 2009 05:17 pm
A few days ago I first realized that the riverbed is about half dry now, which is damned early. It's kind of cool for the dog -- dogs, actually, because I have the brother-in-law's clueless dog Roxy for another almost two weeks -- because the dry part of the riverbed is glorious to run around on and the river is running slow and safe and shallow so they can wade to their heart's delight. There are flowers blooming in that sand I swear I have never seen before, though they are vaguely reminiscent of other natives and other thugs I have seen before. There's something growing there with a sweet fragrance, too, though I was never able to spot what it was.

Other signs of summer: the Watsonville hillsides are totally brown. The seedheads on the extoci wild grasses are ripe or nearly ripe. We've gotten our yearly water warning. But this year it's more than a warning: we're on stage 2 water restrictions, which are not onerous but are more ominous. We can only water on 2 days a week, depending onoiur house number (or other named factors if those don't apply), before 10 and after 5, except you can always use drip or a wateriung can or a shutoff hose. What's left? sprinklers and open hose ends, that's all. You can always water food crops if you need to, if you use a watering can or a shutoff.

This is the third dry year in a row. Not so dry in itself: 76% of normal. But last year was a nearly-not-dry 81%, and the year before 50-something.

There's nothing unusual about this. As the nice fellow used to say, if you bet every year that it would be drier than average, you would make money over the long run. And not so long run, actually.

But we did get spoiled with about a decade of good wet years, green and juicy, and we got out of the habit of worrying about our water. Or some of us did, anyways.