These are two of her most exquisite stitcheries - about 4"x 4" each. Rob, her husband, said it took her several months to finish each one.
She married an abstract painter, had a daughter, Isis, Waldorf schooled, a painter too. It's a remote place, a commitment to commuting of more than an hour from Berkeley or San Francisco.
It's a bit lonely, as many a western place still is, but in its own time-warp, where all the best of the flower child lifestyle seems preserved.
The families created a pre-school for their children, where they shed their clothes, played in a manure pile, and explored the shoreline, bay, and hills.
She loved native plants, ran a gardening and landscape design service, and devoted herself to her daughter's alternative education, stitchery, and photography.
Across the street from her house, an old, frowsy Victorian which remained in need of much repair for the 30 years she and her husband and child lived in it, is Hog Island Oyster Farm. It's one of two suppliers of these delectables in Point Reyes. It's the only memorial service I've ever been to that had an oyster bar, along with north coast wines and cheeses, a foody dream.
Ironic. Because when Alice knew she was terminal, she decided to end her life by self-starvation. Supported by her loyal and loving daughter,husband,sister and friends, she lived for over two weeks before her body finally released her. Her last meal was oysters.
Her sister, Trish, lives on in Berkeley, a friend of my husband and his sister, become my friend too.
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