Skoshi is Japanese, I've been told, for a 'little bit'--a skosh of something. Skoshi was an American Akita, a smaller version of a Japanese Akita. At her heaviest, she weighed around 100 lbs. as opposed to King, (Larry Carlson's) who tipped the scales at over 120 lbs.

I also learned that Akitas need to give their unflagging loyalty to their owners. There have been stories about that loyalty and a memorial to Hachiko the world's most faithful dog, in the Shibuya Train Station. "Chu-ken Hachiko (lit. the faithful dog Hachiko) was born in Akita in 1923 and was first brought to Tokyo in 1924. He and his owner, Mr. Eisaburo Uyeno, were inseparable friends right from the start. Each day "Hachi" would accompany Eisaburo, a professor at the Imperial University, to the train station when he left for work. Upon returning, the professor would find the dog patiently waiting, tail wagging. This happy routine continued until one fateful day in 1925, when the professor was taken ill on the job and unfortunately died before he could return home.

Despite the fact that Hachiko was less than two years old at the time, the bond between dog and owner was strong. Hachiko continued to wait each day at Shibuya station for a friend who was never coming back. At times, he wouldn't return home for days at a stretch.

The Akita became a familiar sight to commuters as he kept his vigil for over ten years. On March 8, 1935, Hachiko finally went to meet his master. He died on the very same spot he last saw his friend alive."

I also read and was told that I should never look an unknown Akita eye to eye. Akitas have Japanese, wolf-like eyes. When I brought an obedience trainer into the yard to decide whether or not she be willing to take on Skoshi and me in obedience training, she said, "Absolutely not! That dog is dangerous!"

Well, I'd seen Skoshi with my 2-yr. old daughter and didn't consider her at all dangerous.

But I wanted to make sure. So, very early on, I took her face in my hands, looked her straight in the eye and said, "Sweetie, in this house, I'm alpha-bitch!"

Of course, she already knew that and spent the rest of her life protecting me from cats, vets and other things to fierce to mention.

How do you get scented rhodies?

Is it a special kind of rhododendron? We have old (15 yr) bushes and many fine flowers, even when the deer eat some of the buds, but no scent.

Larry's rhodies were over 40-50 years old. Perfume was bred out of them in return for bigger and more color-diversified flowers.

The next door house has its subfloor for the second story in place now.

What happens when boundaries are crossed? Just look at Georgia!

Our Town did something. Points Drive is the boundary line between our Town and the City of Clyde Hill. Before SR 520 was built, it was kind of an arbitrary line that followed natural contours between the two. SR 520 changed all that by digging a ravine through which the freeway could pass in order to get it to the same level as the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge. Points Drive became separated into Points Drive East and Points Drive West, but the boundary like didn't change. Anything north of either road is a part of Yarrow Point, everything south of it is a part of Clyde Hill.

Points Drive East is a 20ft. right of way through a neighborhood. Points Drive West is a 40+ right of way with Clyde Hill's one commercial building on it.

Points Drive East roughly follows SR520 to the north. It branches off Lake Washington Blvd., a major arterial running N/S. As a result, Points Drive East became a major by-pass route for commuters.

This became dangerous for Yarrow Pointers who have only one road leading out of our Town. It was also dangerous for residents of both Yarrow Point and Clyde Hill, who couldn't leave their driveways.

Minor Lyle, (remember him?,) got together with the Clyde Hill mayor and they put up those tiny jersey barriers--you know, the yellow painted ones that mean, 'Don't cross the lanes.'

They were destroyed within three days.

After much consultation with Town attornies, the many deaths of pets and both the oral and written complaints of the citizens, the mayors decided on a 'final solution.'

They closed the road--forever!

Boundaries are very important, even to a social animal such as we. Have you ever been inadvertantly bumped into by someone and thought, "Jeez, you've invaded my space, you twit!" You mumble an apology and go on your way. The same is true if you inadertantly bump into someone else.

There are some things you can do. The first, of course, is to watch where you're going, which can be difficult if you're walking and reading. I learned how to do this (walk while reading) when I was in elementary school. It isn't difficult.

Another way is to "stay the course." Simply charge on through the other person's buttress against invasion of space--without a shoulder movement to avoid that person's space or even the acknowlegment that that person exists.

I've found this rather common with Asian people who, due to over-population--or something--don't consider 'space' to be necessary. Or maybe they do--as long as the space is their space.

This is a lead-in to the Tale of Mr. Woo--which has to wait since it's past my bed-time.

Are you with me Doctor Woo
Are you really just a shadow
Of the man that I once knew
Are you crazy are you high
Or just an ordinary guy
Have you done all you can do
Are you with me Doctor

Don't seem right
I've been strung out here all night
I've been waiting for the taste
You said you'd bring to me
Biscayne Bay
Where the Cuban gentlemen sleep all day
I went searching for the song
You used to sing to me
Katy lies
You could see it in her eyes
But imagine my surprise
When I saw you

Are you with me Doctor Woo
Are you really just a shadow
Of the man that I once knew
She is lovely yes she's sly
And you're an ordinary guy
Has she finally got to you
Can you hear me Doctor

.o0(figured we could use some lead-in music)

Thank you, Stone, for your prelude to Mr. Woo. I do appreciate it, but I'll have to write a preface to your prelude in order to tell what happened. This is true and not the fanciful things I may write in other threads.

I've told you a little about the street behind us and how it used to be called Widow's Row. We had a former Rockette, the Chicken Lady, a vacant lot, (this is running north,) Mrs. Barrett, directly behind us, and Mrs. Cornelius next door to her. On the east side of the street, the only widow we knew of at all, was a middle European woman who'd carried brick in a hod, to earn the money needed to emigrate. I don't think I ever knew her name, and don't remember who she married, but I think it was a middle European sailor who'd jumped ship here.

Mrs. Cornelius loved to talk over the fence. She was very proud of her home, which, she said, had been designed and built by her son. Mrs. Cornelius didn't like Mrs. Barrett. Mrs. Cornelius felt Mrs. Barrett was 'too upity' since the only thing Mrs. Battett's son had built for her was her back fence which bordered our property.

That was the first we'd heard about 'the fence.'

After clearing our back yard with a machette and loppers, we discovered an old wooden fence that was in a bad state of repair. Mrs. Cornelius told what we thought was a fanciful story about how Mrs. Barrett had her son put the fence up where she wanted it and how, in so doing she had given our lot some of her property.

We assumed (Rule one--never assume) that Mrs. Barrett had taken a central point as an axis and simply built her fence along the axis point, thereby trading some of her land for some of ours.

It turned out not to be so, but there was nothing on record. My husband and I went to Mrs. Barrett and asked her to file a quit-claim to reflect what she'd done 20 years before. She refused to do so, stating that she'd been involved with courts while she was worked and knew she didn't have to do so. As far as she was concerned, she had the land she wanted as defined by the fence.

That bothered me, so I got a copy of the records, thinking that Mrs. Barrett had, perhaps, taken the south point of her property as the axis point for her fence. She hadn't--she'd gone in from that point and put up a fence running n/s along both our back properties. I again tried to convince her that she needed to file a quit-claim to us and she again refused.

In the meantime, her fence was deteriorating and falling into what she'd said was our back yard, and we'd adopted Skoshi, who needed a fenced back yard. We replaced Mrs. Barrett's broken-down wooden fence with a chain-link fence along her fence line and down the e/w borders of our property in order to give our dogs what they needed.

As Mrs. Barrett became more infirm, the man who'd bought and built on the brick-carrier's property lent himself to Mrs. Barrett as a lawn-mower. As an architect, all he wanted in return was the right-of-first-refusal should her property go on the market.

It eventually did when Mrs. Barrett was forced into a nursing home. He bought it as seen--but then went into the land records. He discovered the back fence anomoly and came over to try to 'work things out' as a neighbor. By then, I'd studied the 'right of adverse posession.' I explained to him what we'd done to try to get Mrs. Barrett to legally agree to the fence line that she'd established 20 years before. He understood and sold the Barrett property to Mr. Woo.

Mr. Woo, as he said himself, was of Asian extraction. He was also an intimidator. We met with him once and showed him the plans for our contemplated home which was well within the back setback no matter where the boundary line between lots was.

He didn't like it. He wanted to put the biggest house he could get on the property. To do that, he needed the original property line.

So, soon after our meeting, Mr. Woo rang the doorbell of our ranshackel house and presented me with a letter saying that I had 30 minutes to get my dogs out of the backyard because he was going to tear down our fence.

I got the dogs in, called my husband and called the police. Sure enough, Mr. Woo got a crew in that started to tear down the fence.

Have any of you ever been violated in any way? Have you ever been burglerized or car prowled where things were stolen? Have you ever been raped?

Rape takes many forms. It can be a rape of the mind or the mental person. A lot of battered women are battered psychologically. The results are the same. It's the subjugation of the male and what he wants over the female and what she wants to maintain and preserve.

Because of me, we got a lawyer. We also got a stop work order on our fence demolition. We also had a policeman at the fence-line overnight to keep any more destruction from happening. When I blew him a kiss in thanks, I went on police record as having given him 'the kiss.' I've never known what that meant, but I've seen it in the record.

Mr. Woo took us to Court where the judge ruled in our favor. Mr. Woo protested the judges ruling, saying that it was tantamount to a 'legal' land grab. The judge said it was legal right of adverse possession--and if that was a legal 'land grab'--so?

It took about $2o,ooo to 'win' this case--a case that should never have gone beyond hearing. Monitarily, we lost.

In the meantime, Mr Woo left the state and went to Idaho. He wasm't present for the many small claims agains him.

When he returned to the PNW, we was diagnosed with cancer. He died within 3 months.

There are two new houses about 2 1/2 blocks south of us. One is in the landscaping stage and one is in the interior work stage. They both sit on large lots, well back from the street, and they're both huge. I don't know if either of them has a view of the lake. There's also a new house across the street and south of us by about five lots. It's a rather strange house from the outside.

It was built on a lot owned by John Adams (yes, that was his name) that had never been developed. When it was cleared, it showed a 8-10+ foot drop from front to back so the house is what used to be called a 'day-light basement' style, except this house's lower level can't really be called a basement, since I'm sure the extra bedrooms are on the lower level.

The upper level and entrance are flush with the street and the house itself is rather long (N-S) and narrow. It will have a back yard, however, although much of it may be taken up by a driveway and turn-around.

This is an interesting development in home-building now, apparently. All four of the new houses--the two down the street, the one across the street and the one next door--each have a single-car driveway from the street. Except for the house next door, the garages are hidden at the back of the houses so no garage doors present themselves to the street.

The house next door will actually have a 3-car garage with one garage door. All of the maneuvering space is inside the structure in order to meet the lot coverage requirements.

Most of the time, during the Water Commission meeting tonight, was spent discussing how much property taxes are going up and how much they will go up given the new construction.

The two new houses south of us will be offered for sale at $4m+.

When Widow' Row changed, it was a gradual change. There's still one of the little cabins left, although the widow who lived there originally is now gone. Her son lives in it now and he's an old man. I think the cabin was either the Chicken Lady's or the Rockette's--probably the Rockette's.

Why the Chicken Lady? Because she had chickens, of course. She kept them on her tiny enclosed back porch. She also fed the squirrels, which meant there was enough food in her yard to feed the rats Charley, our cat, sometimes brings home.

One day, one of the Chicken Lady's bantams got loose (this was before fence days) and ended up in our back yard. Animal control was called, but before they arrived, Dick S. and his two sons came across from their back yard and the intervening back yards, armed with fish landing nets. You know, the ones on the long poles you use to pull a hooked fish onto a boat. My husband also had his landing net.

So there were four men chasing the little bantam around back yards, armed with fish nets, giving orders to each other and probably frightening the little chicken more than he was already frightened.

This went on for 10-15 minutes. The men were very serious about it all, plotting strategies and trying various feints to try capturing that damned chicken. I think the chicken ended up having more fun than he'd ever had.

The bantam was finally captured by fish net and returned to his home. The men all leaned on their nets, wiped their faces, congratulated each other on a job well done and went home laughing.

Animal Control finally got here after it was all over.

How do people gain a small measure of immortality? How are memories measured?

We have two cats buried in our front yard and my two big dogs and another cat sleeping in our back yard. They are all buried in appropriate coffins--baskets, cat caves. My husband made Skoshi's coffin, which is lined with white satin.
Victor-huge-o's is similar.

Should change be gradual and 'natural,' as was true on Widow's Row? Or should the tape be ripped off in one swell foop?

I've tried several times to write about the Soriano's, but Gypsy, the cat, has successfully wiped out every attempt. So here I go again--and here comes Gypsy, again.

Whew, got the computer to sleep and the cover closed before Gypsy got on it for her belly scratch.

Mr. and Mrs. Soriano bought a lot south of us and started to build. During one of her visits to the site, Mrs. Soriano noticed a mailbox pagoda on Town right of way, slightly north of the mid-line of their lot.

Mr. Soriano was a retired ship's pilot and former owner of the Seattle Pilots--the precursor of the Seattle Mariners-- so, apparently Mrs. Soriano was used to getting her own way. She petitioned the Town to move the pagoda--and was denied.

So she sent a two-page, single-spaced, typed on legal-sized paper rant to the Town complaining about what an eye-sore the pagoda was and how they planned a semi-circular driveway which the pagoda would block.

The Town building official reviewed the permit drawings and found no such driveway.

Why were Mrs. Soriano's demands not met? For a number of reasons.

First of all, because the Soriano house was at least 25' higher than street level. It's a single-story dwelling with no significant windows facing the street--everything is oriented to the back yard pool. The mailbox pagodas are built using rough-hewn lumber with original dimensions. They're set into concrete slabs that are at least 4" thick. To move one of them would be expensive and would possibly lead to its destruction.

But Mrs. Soriano wasn't finished.

Fortunately, Lois Sternberg, the next door neighbor to the north, was home and saw a bulldozer driver aiming his dozer at the pagoda. She ran out of her house and threw herself in front of the pagoda--yelling over the sound of the machinery--well, screaming, actually.

Naturally, the bulldozer driver stopped his machine and got out to try to talk to Lois--to explain to her that he was clearing the way for the planned driveway. At this point, Beth Lee, the across-the-street neighbor, came running out to join Lois in defending the mailbox pagoda. Faced with two frantic women, the dozer driver gave up.

The Town then got in touch with Mrs. Soriano and told her, in no uncertain terms, that neither she nor any of her agents were to touch a splinter of the pagoda's side. The pagoda belongs to the Town and is on Town property--it cannot be touched, except by the
Town.

However, in the spirit of compromise, the Town allowed the semi-circular driveway (although, I'm sure it charged a fee for the change.) It then planted an evergreen screen along the back of the pagoda.

The north side of the driveway was built, but is never used because it's too steep.

Man, you've had some bitchy neighbors over the years. Heaven forbid if there were ever any kids around.