The Woodacre Years

When I met Jerry at Lou's Pier 47 in San Francisco I had no idea how fateful that brief encounter would be. Jerry knocked on the ladies room door and asked to wash his hands saying, "There is no soap in the mens room." I continued applying mascara and Jerry looked at me in the mirror and said, "This is so charming. You putting on makeup and me washing my hands just like we're at home," I giggled and left the ladies room. Four months later I happened to be at Lou's Pier 47 on the same day Jerry happened to be playing (back then he gigged there about once a month).

Jump forward a couple of weeks to my first visit to Woodacre. Jerry and I spent a nice day hiking on Mt. Diablo and he asked if I would like to see where he lived. By the time we arrived in Marin County the sun had disappeared and there was no moon. We drove west along Sir Francis Drake Blvd, climbed over White's Hill and turned left onto San Geronimo Valley Drive. During the day this road is a pleasant meander among the redwoods, but that night I thought I had been duped. As soon as we turned off the main road we entered a thick forest with no lights penetrating from any direction. It was only about a mile before we emerged in the bucolic town, but for a moment I thought I was being driven to my final destination on a road to nowhere. If you knew what a nice guy Jerry is you would laugh at the idea, but I had only known him a short time and anyone can be nice for a week or two.

I have now lived in Woodacre for sixteen years and it is hard to imagine life elsewhere. We have a deli, a post office and a fire station and that's all. I can walk my dogs anywhere, anytime. If my pomeranian, Django, runs away I know I will find him at the deli, looking sweet and innocent (he knows begging doesn't work). There are no sidewalks and NO streetlights and light pollution from the nearby town of Fairfax is minimal, so the night sky is an astronomers dream. I have many precious memories of Woodacre. Most nights I walk the dogs to the post office and the cat follows. If the dogs and I get too far ahead of the cat, he lets us know quite vocally. At times the spectacle of two small dogs and a cat walking shoulder to shoulder along the side of the road literally brings some drivers to a screeching halt.