Placerville
Labor Day Weekend 2017
A choir retreat. Christopher wanted us to do a choir retreat. Well, we had waited long enough to have him as our director, so I was ok with humoring him. But I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. Retreats are for “team building” and we were already a team. Yet the new boss said retreat and we agreed to retreat, in Placerville El Dorado County, at the end of August. This rash decision was made at the end of May.
Some of you might not know El Dorado County California. It is a beautiful place that reaches from Folsom (yes, that Folsom) up to South Lake Tahoe. It is rugged, it is steep and in August it gets really hot. But we decided to go there in May and had no idea that the Bay Area would suffer its hottest summer in decades. When it’s 102 in Oakland, 106 in Placerville seems a little extreme. Just days before we were to head up the Hill, some amongst us opined that staying in our slightly cooler home might be a good idea. Then came the voice of reason, remarkably, out of the tenor section. Joshua said, “They know how to deal with heat better than we do.” And so it was.
The house itself was large and had been added onto several times. You walk into what was a front parlor and is now a dining room. To the left was the kitchen and, down a narrow hall, one of the three ensuite bedrooms. This Vickie and Richard had held for us, the late arrivals. They had their own as did Christopher and Tonia. The single people, three of each, had dorm rooms. (This is not to suggest that Joshua is single, just that Stacie did not join us.) There were also old powerful air conditioners everywhere, noisily pumping out blessedly refrigerated air. See, Joshua knew of what he spoke.
The traffic on Friday was just wretched thus we got to the digs late. And we had dinner. The house that Christopher found was very nice with a big kitchen wherein we would make our meals. Sharon, divine alto and organizer extraordinaire had all the food responsibilities worked out. I made chicken and a big salad. (I think not enough.) So when we finally chugged into the parking in front of the house, people were really relieved. Supper had arrived. We chatted and had cocktails, we dined and chatted and then the games came out. I am very bad at games and retired early. The Iron Dragon went on till 1 am and still wasn’t done. Being a slug, I slept late and only emerged from my luxurious nest because I heard the smoke alarm in the kitchen. After donning my house dress, I went into the same kitchen and gently asked if Richard and Sharon were burning the house down. They insisted that they were only making breakfast on an unfamiliar and rather recalcitrant stove. I always believe what my friends tell me.
The primary reason for the retreat was lots of rehearsal. We had a lot of music to work on but where were we going to do it? Showing off his organizational chops, our fearless leader cut a deal with Church of Our Savior, a lovely and old (established in 1861) Episcopal church who very sweetly allowed us to rehearse there in exchange for us singing at the Sunday 10:30 service. Church of Our Savior doesn’t really have a choir so we got to sing for a very appreciative congregation. One woman went so far as to worship at 8am and then return at 10:30 to hear us. The church was a whole short block from our digs. Oh life is so hard.
We are very spoiled by the acoustics of St.Paul’s, with its brick walls and wood interior buttressing. But at Church of our Savior we had a real treat, we were able to sing together. At home, the sops & altos are behind the pulpit, basses and tenors behind the lectern and the altar is in between. Thus it is very hard to hear each other and, for those of you who don’t sing chorally, hearing each other is pretty important. In the plaster and wood of the Placerville church all of the choir are on the lectern side and Christopher stood behind it. The higher voices turned toward the lower and we could really blend. That place has such nice sound. We worked on the music for the next day, we looked at music for the upcoming season and had the Monteverdi “Vespers” dangled in front of us. Sweet Jesus I do want to sing that thing.
We broke for lunch, came back for another session and then broke for supper. Sharon made an elegant “salade nicoise” and then the games came out again. I tried to participate, I really did, but I’m just no good at games. We rose on Sunday morning, prepared, walked over to the sweet little church and did our St. Paul’s best for our gracious hosts. For those of you who are not familiar with the Episcopal Liturgy, here is how it breaks down. The choir comes behind the Cross, followed by clergy, all singing the opening hymn. Once in the stalls, there is a Collect, readings (one from the Hebrew Scriptures, one from St. Paul and, after singing the Sequence Hymn, one from a Gospel.) Then the sermon, Prayers of the People, the Confession, the passing of the Peace and announcements (this can take a while). Once the cats are herded back in their pews, the Offertory is sung by the choir. And then we celebrate the Eucharist. The Communion anthem is sung after the choir takes the same. All of this sounds rather complicated but it unites the Episcopal Communion. Different churches have their own traditions, some more high Church and some less. But the order of worship binds us to the Body of Christ and each other and that really matters.
After service we retired to the church hall, in the basement of Church of Our Savior, for coffee and chatting. We were supposed to be visiting with our hosts and some of us tried. But, we are a limited company and all ended up at the same table, planning where to go for lunch. Sharon did a whole lot of work on this trip and found a lovely little bistro on Placerville’s historic main drag. Part of this place’s real attraction is that they saved their little old downtown. The storefronts are preserved. What one does with the interiors is up to the shop owners. Thus gift, antique, book and hardware shops are right next door to restaurants. “Heyday Cafe” at 325 Main St. took very good care of us, putting multiple tables together to accommodate our large party. We had splendid service and very nice food. As usual, at least for this trip, Himself and I were late. We drove rather than walking over the freeway bridge and getting to parking took too long. My excuse is that old man Art Ritus was really kicking in but I should have walked.
Here is an important thing about the Heyday, they will do separate checks. We are talking five or six checks at our table alone. (If anyone tells you that separate checks can’t be done at “fine dining” establishments, give them a big Bronx cheer. If the Heyday in Placerville, El Dorado Co. CA can do it, so can they.) The food was fresh and very good. They have a good beer and wine list. We had a lovely meal and then asked to settle up. That’s when it happened. We were informed by our head waiter that our lunches had been paid for. WHAT? Yes, all of our lunches, all of our drinks, all of our everything, had been paid for by an anonymous member of the Church of Our Savior. We couldn’t even say thank you.
When Philip and I first drove into town, I noticed a brew pub on the town side of the freeway. I have learned never to let a beer establishment go un-investigated. So, after our miraculous lunch, Joshua joined Philip in some beer tasting. The place is called “Jack Russell Brewery” and although it doesn’t have the charm of the old buildings the beer is good and the service is lovely. Philip and Joshua tasted and talked music, which I always love to hear. But then the subject turned to baseball and I wished I’d brought something to read.
Back at the ranch everyone was packing up. Hugs, kisses and wishes for safe travels were exchanged and we went our separate ways. Most everyone were taking the direct route, being the 50 to Sacramento and then either the 5 to Stockton or the 80 thru Vacaville. But we needed to pick up wine at Van Ruiten in Lodi and we needed to drive the Delta. I always need to drive the Delta. From Lodi we were supposed to pick up the 12 east and then a left onto the 160 and thence to the 4. That is what we asked Applemaps. I’m not really sure how we got where we did but it was a wonderful drive on a very narrow road with water on either side. In fact the entire Delta trip was surrounded by water. There were white herons, red winged blackbirds and other marsh birds that only Alison and Liz know. All I know is that I love driving the California Delta, be it the 4, the 12 the 160 or nameless back roads . The sky is big, the land (what there is) very flat and a river runs though.
We left out water reverie at Antioch, joined the hoards on the southern/eastern 4 heading toward the 80 and home. Some of you may have noticed that I always title a highway or freeway. This is an L A thing. To the north it stops somewhere around the Ventura Co. line, and to the south just beyond the Orange curtain. I don’t know why we speak this way, other areas have great big awful freeways, other places are ruled by their commutes. We title our great roads, the Santa Monica, the 405, the 210 (Foothill). It’s just the way we talk and others can always tell where we’re from and they laugh.
Sharon called our retreat “summer camp for grownups.” And so it was, a wonderful weekend of singing, great company and almost enough food, in a beautiful place. Christopher was right. We did need to go to Placerville in August.
