watch and learn: Lost in Loreto

In case you're interested....

2011-10-20T10:28:00.003-06:00

Obviously, I have ceased posting on this blog. Our travel adventures are not as grand now that our daughter is in middle school and loathe to leave the stability of her "normal" life. I too, am busy at work, running our office, while Robert oversees the general operations. Both our sons work in the business as well, so it is quite wonderful to me to have us all together. We get to Loreto only at Christmas these days, and our Airstream adventures are limited to summers. We actually pulled straight into New York City on Independence Day, parked our Airstream in a lot at Liberty Harbor, and watched fireworks from the Hudson River with a couple that invited us on their boat. That's a great story. I should have written about it, but I don't know how to pick back up on blogging now that I've abandoned it.

I have a new venture now that I am planted here in the midwest again. For the past two years I have studied photography--even spending a summer in Montana at the Rocky Mountain School of Photography. I'm concentrating on portraiture, though I love all types of photography.

My business is named, "YES Photography. You can see my work at www.yes-studios.com.
Someday I will pick back up on writing, for now I'll just capture life as I see it here at home.

thanks to all who have followed me.
see some of you in Loreto.

What I do all day

2010-05-12T22:27:00.006-06:00

We're leaving for home tomorrow. This was a shorter stay for us than usual; two months for Allison and I, three for Robert. Overall, it was a pleasant time. Nothing too unusual happened, in fact; I am becoming jaded about our life here. The unusual seems normal to me anymore. I haven't felt inclined to write about every little thing. Loreto Bay is becoming our other home, one we are growing more familiar and comfortable with each passing year. I'll never recapture the wonder and astonishment I felt in the early days here. I tell people how things were just five years ago and I surprise myself at how primitive and pioneering I make it sound. You know, remember those days when we couldn't find the simplest items like brown sugar, or half-n-half, or an extension cord? We truly felt like we were living in a state of forced deprivation. Each year more is available in Loreto. I imagine in five years we'll feel like we live in a resort--well, relatively speaking. Loreto Bay has such a long way to progress, but we'll always remember the good old days.

Just when I think I've had enough of the dirt, the dust, and the deprivations, we get a string of incredible pink and orange-hued sunsets. I don't doubt half my neighborhood heard my excited shrieks to my own family to,"Get out here, you have to see this, hurry!" If I embarrassed myself it was worth the alarm to others to get outside. How could you let anyone miss something so beautiful? When I think about it there are dozens of remarkable images inside of a day here: whether it's a hummingbird nest in a neighbor's tree, a shark-whale in Puerto Escondido, an acacia tree in full bloom, a spatter of raindrops that lasts ninety seconds. Maybe because life here is so slow and modern-day distractions so few that we all have to look more closely at the show nature puts on.

Someone asked me recently, "What do you do here all day?" Some days not much at all, I answer sheepishly. I always feel guilty for my abundance of leisure time because: #1. I'm too young to be retired. And #2. I always think I should be filling my days with philanthropic works to counterbalance my abundant leisure time, but I never do because I'm basically private and somewhat non-social.

Besides schooling and supervising our daughter, I guess you could say I spend most of my time here just watching things. When I get tired of reading or surfing the internet I find myself outside with no purpose in mind but to wander. I like to ride my bike through Nopolo or take my camera out scouting for things to photograph. I might catch a glimpse of a pack of desert dogs hiding in the brush. Quail and an occasional roadrunner will nervously scramble across my path. I might encounter a stray burro or find someone's horse tied to a tree. I'll hear the tinkering bell of a goat on the hill beside the Carretera or the hum of a swarm of bees as I pass under a mesquite tree. Along the estuary I'll see fish leap from the water or pelicans dive-bombing. In Agua Viva I'll notice a house has been painted thus marking progress for the homeowners there. Avocado green, papaya, mango, tomato, one by one the palette is beginning to fill out.

The highlight of my day is the hour-long walk Robert and I take at sunset. We have a route we created that takes us along the length of the golf course and around the estuaries. Often-times, we start so late that we see both the sunset and the dark blanket of stars before we arrive home. It always seems that Orion's belt is right above our house when we reach the front door. I've never been so intimate with the stars than I have here in Loreto. They practically scream at you to look above. I now think I understand the ancients who studied them. In dark skies the stars and planets are a presence not to be ignored. Here our vision is captivated by the beautiful sunset against the mountain range only to be further entranced by the night sky that follows. We feel one with nature, or maybe we feel insignificant against nature for a few contemplative moments before turning inside only to spoil the effect by plopping down for few hours of mind-numbing cable television.

So my time here vacillates between meaningful contemplations and mindless distractions. Just like back home. And that's what I do with my time. Maybe my life, too.

La Paz get-away

2010-05-09T18:40:00.005-06:00

I'm way behind on my posting. I'll start with the trip to La Paz we took around the third week of April. The intent was to meet our friends, the Browns, after their sailing jaunt that took them from mainland Mexico to the La Paz marina. They had been on the Sea of Cortez for a couple of months and were in La Paz to prepare for the sail back to Loreto. The plan was for Robert and Allison to climb on-board while Ann and I drove their car back to Loreto. The crew would island hop up the gulf ending at Puerto Escondido four days later. A nice introduction to sailing for beginners.

The Browns recently purchased their boat with plans to spend the next year sailing throughout the gulf. It's an experience they want to enjoy as a family, island hopping, living minimally, freely. It's also an exercise in space management: it's a 35-ft boat, not much room to roam. Our Airstream is smaller than that, but we have the option of stepping onto land when we get the urge--and there's no sea-sickness. Also, being on the water requires full-time attention: once we're parked and set up we're done. I think part of the appeal for them is that team effort that is necessary to keep a boat afloat. Their children are gaining skills and confidence being part of the crew. Everybody has a task to perform.

While in La Paz we stayed at the El Moro on the Malecon; not a bad spot and very close to the Marina. We had two great meals at local restaurants, one the name I never got, but the other called, Caprichos, right off the square where the cathedral stands. The most memorable meal, however, was the deep-fried hot dog from Sam's Club. Yes, what's a trip to La Paz without a Sam's run? I forgot to mention that we caught a ride to La Paz with our good friends and neighbors, the McCormicks. We spent a day following them around on their shopping adventures. We spent practically a whole afternoon in Home Depot lounging at one point around a patio setting in the outdoor section. I actually forgot I was in Mexico until we stepped outside again.

On a side note: The Browns drove us to a magical spot south of La Paz called, Gran Sueno. We were surprised at the luxury of this hidden resort in the middle of nowhere. It was essentially a mini-kingdom built by a real estate magnate from San Diego. Gorgeous grounds, a grand playroom with a miniature train running under the ceiling, an immaculate horse stable with a handful of well-groomed horses, tennis courts, a golf course, a chapel, and a swimming pool with a rock slide were just a few of the amenities. The place was created by someone with family fun in mind--definitely a person who values kids and playfulness. We spent the whole day there lunching, lounging, exploring. It is definitely a place I would like to re-visit. The next day Ann and I saw the crew off and headed back towards Loreto.

Baja is for the Birds

2010-04-22T23:53:00.001-06:00

I've recruited our new friend, Tom, to share his expertise in birds with Allison and add something of interest to her schoolwork. God knows, I'm not a good teacher, but I can sure scout out talent in others. Once I discovered Tom's passion for birdwatching, I was after him to share it with her. First, I arranged for she and one of her friends to follow him on a nature walk around the lake of the golf course. We followed a week later with trip to the Las Garzas estuary in Loreto. This time Robert and a neighbor joined us as Tom led us through the damp mudflats pointing out royal terns and reddish egrets, semi-palmated plovers and yellow-crowned night herons. I couldn't remember the names of any of them, and I'm not sure anyone else could; it takes practice I think. Tom has a website that comes in handy for identifying Baja's fowl: bcsbirds.com.

I believe this little guy is a snowy egret, but then I could be wrong. Tom will let me know, I'm sure.

It's raining, I think

2010-04-19T17:23:00.007-06:00

Look closely. Yes, those are raindrops. Very rare for Loreto. Unless there is a hurricane rain falls sparse and rare. I think it rained for 30 seconds.

You don't see it from the sky; the only proof is the faint, almost imperceptible wet drops it leaves on the sidewalk or, in this case, the saltillo tiles.

Loreto Bay Masters

2010-04-12T22:57:00.006-06:00

Robert and friends put together a golf tournament they called, "The Loreto Bay Masters," inspired by the real thing they watched this past week. They made it a fundraiser for the community center and in the four days they (we, since I got recruited to help too) had to organize it, it turned out very well. Small, but successful, I think. We had five teams and a handful of sponsors to raise enough money to buy bookshelves for the clubhouse. With some planning and more time next year's "Masters" will be huge.The day was absolutely beautiful. Allison and I took a cart and followed everyone so I could get pictures. For the most part we followed Robert's team. One of the members is an avid birdwatcher so all the way he was pointing out birds for Allison to view through his binoculars. While the guys were trying for "birdies" she was searching out the Vermillion Flycatchers and Magnificent Frigates. In some sense she was still "at school." Two other kids who are always "at school" are the Fager boys. They helped out on their parents beverage cart. Evan and Julie operate a tiny general store in the village called, Baja Onsite. Still just pre-schoolers, they spend most of their days underfoot at the store. They will probably grow up to be tycoons in commerce with all the hands-on experience they're already getting.

Robert's team won the event and the green "Masters" jackets, which in this case were Mexican ponchos. I teased him that it was like giving a party and winning your own door prize. However, I don't imagine these men will ever wear these ponchos in public again. Whatever--the day was a lot of fun and we did raise a nice sum for the community center.

Easter in Loreto Bay

2010-04-05T21:51:00.004-06:00

When is the last time you saw kids hunting easter eggs among palms and bougainvillea? It's something the Mexicans never see; the don't celebrate Easter the way we do, not with baskets full of candies and a stuffed bunny. This was the third time we've been here during Easter, thus our third time hosting an egg hunt. I have to pack several dozen plastic eggs whenever we come because you'd never find them in Loreto. Knowing we would be hosting the party at our new community center I brought an entire suitcase full of Easter paraphernalia. I wanted to dress the place up and create an event. There may not be a lot of children here, but at least to those that are, we'd offer something fun and familiar. If we corrupt a few Mexican children with our candy-laden, secular, consumer-driven traditions, oh well. Our experience has shown that they love it. The same participants keep showing up. I'm afraid they'll expect it from now on. One Mexican couple shared their difficulty explaining to their three little sons exactly what is an easter egg hunt. "Are the eggs big or little?" one boy asked. " Are they hidden in nests?" They had no conception whatsoever of plastic eggs. Stuffed with candy. And money. Hidden like treasure in the landscaping. Once properly explained, they were all for !Feliz Pascua!, American-style!

We held an Easter social at the new community center (#306.) Homeowners and invited guests brought baked goods and socialized for awhile before heading to the big egg hunt at the community pool. It wasn't a huge gathering, but we did have over a dozen children show up.

Robert slipped out early to hide the eggs at the pool. The rest of us paraded the kids over around 2:30 (about the same time the big earthquake hit the upper Baja, but we didn't feel or notice a thing.) The pool area was completely full of neighbors who did not seem to mind our intrusion. The kids just scrambled in and around the occupied chaise lounges in frantic search for their loot. Somewhere in the bushes lie an egg with a folded $100 bill. It's a tradition Robert has followed since he became the Easter Bunny in our clan and one that boosts attendance. This year the lucky discoverer was Evan and Julie's son, Bubbie. We don't think he even knows what $100 dollars is, but we're sure he'll be at next year's party.

For a look at the Loreto Bay 2010 Easter Party go to my Flickr page:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/watch-and-learn/page2/

Finally, it's here.

2010-04-04T23:35:00.000-06:00

Finally, a community center! This was something I've desired since the beginning phase of Loreto Bay: A place to meet and hold events. Thanks to homeowner Camille Kelly, we actually have a center in which to hold events. She convinced our HOA administrator to include it in the budget. Then she gathered donations for furnishings, found an employee to man the facility, organized a schedule, and has been serving as acting general manager until new administration takes over. She and her husband, Boyd, have taken on a lot of responsibility for the rest of us. I believe as people discover it they will share my excitement.

The space is in the commercial portion of Alta #306 on west side of the Paseo. It can be used in so many ways for so many interests. With the HOA budget and homeowner donations Camille has furnished it with a nice conversation area with bookshelves and upholstered sofas. A generous homeowner donated a large flat screen television. There are numerous folding tables that can be used for card games, parties or dining. Another homeowner donated numerous hard back books, mostly classics, that can be lent. She also has given several high-quality Persian rugs on long-term loan. Donors gave paperbacks, games, screens, plants. There is more needed, but we are off to a great start. In time the center will have a website. There people can go for information and schedules. Camille is working to acknowledge the donors and create ways to raise funds to further the center's growth and needs. In the meantime those of us here can enjoy what it does offer: a social space to host events or meetings, a comfy spot to read a great book, or listen to music or watch a little television.

My annual goats-on-the-golf-course posting

2010-04-04T00:17:00.003-06:00

Another common sight: goats on the golf course.

Apparently, they serve a purpose, even if it is just keeping the sand traps clear of vegetation.

My annual road-kill posting

2010-04-03T00:17:00.002-06:00

Not an entirely uncommon sight on the highway near Loreto. I've always heard that in Mexico if you hit livestock you are responsible to pay its owner. Don't know if that's true, but it might explain these "hit-and-runs."

Dolphins in training

2010-03-31T22:01:00.004-06:00

We took our friends and neighbors, the Marsings, on a boat outing today. We headed to Puerto Escondido for gas and then over to Honeymoon Bay on Danzante Island where there were a lot of mother dolphins and calves. I think they like the protected and calm area around Danzante where they can teach their young. We tried to get photos, but I found it difficult to catch one in flight. I got a lot of shots of tails mostly. They are all so young and not yet as robust and acrobatic as the mature dolphins you see further out. As they mature they get more playful around a speeding boat where they will ride the bow and leap high into the air.

2010-03-28T23:24:00.006-06:00

In a neighborhood such as Loreto Bay giving directions to one's house is difficult. Although the alleys are named, no one seems to remember or know what the are. In fact I don't even know what ours is called. There is probably a plaque on the opposite end on some side of another house.

Our general description is that we are on the Paseo alongside the commercial spaces, a few blocks down from Evan and Julie's general store toward the hotel in the white house with all the bicycles out front and beside probably the biggest monster ficus tree on the boulevard. "Oh, that tree!" The tree threatens to overtake our home; it grows by bounds every year and to my knowledge hasn't been groomed since the LB development began. It's also the gathering place of the neighborhood's feathered creatures. We are awakened by the riot of what sounds like a thousand chattering birds each morning.

At least we have landscaping. Overall our home and surrounding environs are in a finished state and that feels nice after the first few years of perpetual construction and dust. Now all we complain about is the barren state of the Paseo hoping that it will be paved someday soon. We met a family last week that just took possession of their home in Agua Viva. They were so elated even if they were living through major construction all around them. That's kinda the way it has to be in the beginning years here, but little by little it's coming together. I sense things growing more solid regardless of the development being stymied by ownership issues. Homeowners I know appear relaxed and reassuring about the future of this village.

Loreto has noticeably improved over the five years we've owned our home. The streets and parts of the highway are improved. The stores are stocking more items we desire. The newly opened terminal at the airport is impressive and functional. Closer to home, Evan and Julie's store is a godsend. How nice it is to walk a few blocks for a half gallon of milk or a bag of ice. They even have Grey Poupon! The Community Center is open and running, thanks in great part to Camille Kelly. There is a committee working to organize its functions. It's open for various activities like Zumba and bridge games and anything else homeowners would like to see happen. Its a good start.

By the way, my husband and I are hosting an Easter social this Sunday at 1:00pm. Just a casual occasion to stop in, eat a cookie, say hello to a neighbor and if you have little ones--join in on an easter egg hunt. If you're coming bring two dozen of something sweet to share.

Whale watching

2010-03-23T23:34:00.005-06:00

We took the boat out on a search for whales yesterday. Between Coronado and Carmen Island we encountered a pod of what I believe was fin whales. There may have been five or more; it's hard to get a correct count when they don't all emerge together! I'm sure they weren't blue whales which are much larger and thicker. These whales didn't seem to mind our presence, though they weren't the least bit interested in us like gray whales can be.
The one photograph I captured of a whale's head was overexposed, so I've converted it to b/w to see better. Maybe someone who's certain about the identification can confirm or correct my guess of fin whale.

The view from here

2010-03-19T23:15:00.009-06:00

Loreto again! After many months home in the States, we find ourselves back in the warm sun and under the perpetual blue skies of Baja California. No decompression time needed--we were straight to the swimming pool, our ghostly white bodies attracting every UV ray in the vicinity.

Getting here was no piece of cake. We couldn't find available seats on Alaska Airlines so we took the back door in to Baja via American Airlines from Kansas City through Dallas to San Jose Del Cabo where we would spend the night before boarding a 12-passenger plane on AeroCalafia to Loreto the next day. We stayed the night at the lovely and quaint Tropicana in San Jose Del Cabo. In the morning the front desk phoned promptly at 7:45 a.m. to announce the arrival of our driver. He loaded us up and off we went to the airport. However; I did not realize that there are actually two airports in Cabo. Our taxi dropped us off at the larger airport in San Jose Del Cabo. AeroCalafia flies out of a smaller airport in Cabo San Lucas. Now we had only one hour to get there. Off we raced in a taxi that kept stalling at stop lights requiring us to transfer midway into another one. Our new driver, genuinely concerned with delivering us on time, raced through back streets avoiding construction zones and street lights, but I never felt anxious. This is Mexico--everything is an adventure. I mentally began imagining Plan B which consisted of another night in Cabo, this time closer to the little airport. Allie's faith in Mexico insisted on the positive: "Mom, we're going to make it." Once I saw our driver making the sign of the cross which made me grin big for his determination. Now I wanted us to make it for his sake alone.

We made the airport five minutes before the plane was to take off. And the amazing and wonderfully Mexican thing is: they waited for us. Somehow we, our five pieces of overweight luggage (for which we were charged $187USD extra), and our tousled little dog managed to get on-board. The plane, a Cessna Caravan (I think it's called) was actually a nice, comfortable ride. I had fretted a bit about being a passenger in a Mexican operated airline. In all things Mexican, I'm wary regarding safety standards. The night I booked the flight I actually spent an hour or more pouring over YouTube videos on "How to land a small plane in an emergency"as if I could prepare myself for the worst. But once in the air, after some observations that the rivets in the wing looked firm and the the wheels in the landing gear weren't flat and the six other passengers were complacent and nodding off to sleep, I relaxed. Our pilot seemed competent enough (he was always adjusting or moving some lever which made him appear alert enough to me.)

We flew at a fairly low altitude which allowed me study the terrain below, a welcome distraction. I examined the shapes and characteristics of the peninsula wondering what formed the mesas and coastal mountains I was seeing. Was it plate tectonics? Volcanic? Was it all underwater and rise? Or did most of it sink into the sea leaving just this narrow boney finger of landmass? Where was Google when I needed it? At one narrow point along the peninsula I could see both the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez. One big Pacific wave could certainly reach the other shore, couldn't it? What a strange barren land. Is there anything alive out there? And then suddenly, we were above familiar territory. There is life ahead: the islands Monserrat and Danzante on the right and the jagged peaks of the Sierra La Giganta on the left, the boats in Puerto Escondido and suddenly the green spread of Loreto Bay, a little dot of emerald in the dried-mud pallet. Hurray. Home.

Really? I'm cheering for this, my second home, my adopted home most unlike my first in every way. It exists for my pleasure and survives my neglect. How did I ever find it in this weird spiny backbone of earth? Odd as it seems I claim it as belonging to me. I know I have some ownership of it, but that's an arbitrary claim. I've staked it, but it's too wild to be tamed. I see that from here in the air. From up here its obvious. My home is in a precarious state of vulnerability. We can build walls and roofs and swimming pools and the appearance of containment, but we are living in a remote and barren piece of earth. All the real living is at its edge--in the sea. Without the sea it might as well be Mars.

But now we're landing and the focus changes. The elements of the living fill my scope and snap me out of this trance. Palm trees and an airport terminal. A couple of Mexican soldiers on the tarmac. Security personnel and baggage checks. Order and processes. A green lawn and streetlights. A refrigerator and a half gallon of cow's milk. That's the view of home from down here. We're home. We're safe.

Putting it to rest

2009-10-14T19:33:00.002-06:00

Now that we are settled back home I will not be posting for awhile. I can't see why anyone would be too interested in our day-to-day activities now that we are not Airstreaming nor hanging our in Loreto. As far as living in Baja California, we are not planning any more long stays. Allison is enrolled in school here in our home town. It's time to settle down a bit after four years "on the road."

We are planning another foray on the road next summer. We would like to take our Airstream on an eastern route, maybe through the Appalachian mountains and up the eastern coast into Canada. I'll want to journal our travels so I expect I'll start blogging again. But till, then I'm going underground. I'm happy to be home among old friends and my grown sons.

In praise of Durango

2009-07-31T23:25:00.008-06:00

My new favorite town in America: Durango, Colorado. Cool, green, clean, scenic. The town has just the right amount of western flavor and modern athleticism, my favorite combo. The Animas River runs through town attracting rafters and kayakers. And, of course, there is the famous Durango & Silverton steam train which brings thousands of visitors to the area each summer.

There is a wonderful walking path alongside the Animas dotted with public parks and art. The day was beautiful. People were out on bikes and the river full of people floating in inner tubes. We strolled unknowingly upon a music festival at the Rotary Park where Allie climbed an aspen tree for a better view of the gazebo where players performed Peter and the Wolf. We asked an older couple, long-time residents, for a recommendation on where to go for lunch. Rather than explain, they insisted we hop in their car (an old Cadillac) to be dropped off door-side to Guido's, a cute Italian eatery on Main Street.

All day long Allison and I were singing the praises of Durango and wishing aloud that we could live there. And it did seem like the sirens of Durango were conspiring to lure us to stay. We joked and made references to the Chevy Chase movie, "Funny Farm," where he pays the townspeople to behave as quaint and charming as possible to lure a buyer for his house. It seemed that everyone in Durango was friendly, polite, and attractive.
We did, of course, ride the Silverton train. We opted for the bus ride up and the train ride back. The ride is long, but not dull if you like scenery. We were constantly on the look-out for wildlife and other interesting sights. Besides the gorgeous views of rushing waters and rustic train trestles and enormous drop-offs we saw a bear, deer, prairie dogs standing at attention, and the wildest of wildlife, the young folks floating the river who greeted the passing train by pulling down their swim trunks and mooning us.

Our stay in Durango was short. We next headed toward Silverthorne, Colorado where we spent the past week enjoying more wonderful weather and pine-infused atmosphere. And today I write from the worn sofa of my "permanent" home. Naturally, it's late and everyone's asleep (I'm the night-owl.) The Airstream is parked in the driveway until we get it unloaded. It stands as a beacon to the neighborhood that the wanderers are home at last. At least I think they see it that way. Could be, they're wondering how long that thing will sit in the drive.

I'll probably stop writing as I take time to readjust to home and fall back into the comfortable rhythms of normal life. So, until later, goodnight America.

Getting up to Speed

2009-07-20T00:08:00.013-06:00

Back to Airstreaming again. We left Loreto and flew to San Diego where we picked up our Airstream trailer and visited friends and family. We visited my mother in Arizona, showed Allie the Grand Canyon and Four Corners, and now we are set up in Durango, Colorado where we'll ride the train to Silverton and back just for fun before continuing on towards home.

Finally we are in temperatures below 100F. Our last stop was in Cameron, AZ near the Canyon where the wind blows like a furnace and we run the A/C runs continuously or risk roasting in our tin can. Once we passed through Cortez, Colorado and entered into the San Juan mountain range the world turned green again. Pines and ponderosa, creeks and rivers replaced the stony plains of Navajo country, beautiful in it's own way, but untouchable. The occasional monument of weathered stone was awe-inspiring looking like sculpture or an emergent ancient skyscraper. Traveling on Highway 160 we just skimmed the edge of the valley. I know we missed a lot by scooting past, but we were weary of our days of heat and driving. We did make an obligatory stop at the site of the Four Corners and took the obligatory photo on the cement slab marking the four states' touching border: Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado.

Of course, the Grand Canyon was incredulous if not predictable as Robert and I have seen it several times. We again, took photos at the exact spot behind the Tovar Hotel that we took on our honeymoon, and at later dates with our sons. But this time our souvenir purchase wasn't an Indian craft or tee-shirt, but a book titled, "Death in the Grand Canyon," a compilation of tales of stupidity really; as in people falling off ledges while showing off or taking photos. I read the best parts out loud from Cameron to Kayenta until I finally tired of the grim subject.

The past two weeks have been a blur of geography, climate, and activities. Many mornings I awoke in confusion as to where I was. Usually, the shock of re-entering American culture after many months in Mexico is something I get to ruminate over, but this rapid sprint leaves no time to process anything. I'm functioning from memory: Grocery carts, drive-throughs, stop-lights, mall traffic, American currency, GPS programming, wi-fi hotspots, Starbucks blends, paper or plastic?, I'm regaining my fluency. But like riding a bike, it all comes back to you.

The rewards

2009-07-09T12:27:00.005-06:00

Seven months in Loreto Bay, now it's time to go home. This marks our fourth winter living in our little casa. We've built another life here full of friends and adventures; it feels more like home all the time. I think this was our most enjoyable visit ever. Our sons spent Christmas with us, Beau bringing his fiance, Karly along. Our younger son came here for his summer internship at Dolphin Dive. He was great fun to have around. I hope it's a summer he'll cherish even if it meant he had no friends to hang with and he had to live with his parents.

We hiked, biked, kayaked, fished, played tennis, golf, went boating. We saw every type of marine life in the Sea of Cortez including an orca whale and her calf. On our last outing we encountered a pod of pilot whales that took a curiousity to us. A few of them came within feet of the boat to catch a closer look at us. We were celebrating Independence Day with the Brown family. The whales were our fireworks; we oohed and aahed at the thrill of these magnificent creatures breaking the water's surface. We've had lots of experiences like that.

If you just stay in one place long enough interesting things happen, maybe not every day, but often enough. I remember one day when a hummingbird landed on my finger. He was either too trusting or too young to understand what he'd done. That one thing made my day. Those occurrences are reward for the patience of living through the boring days, the days there's nothing much to do. There are no movie theaters, book stores, shopping malls. We create most activities ourselves like having friends to dinner and cards or tennis. At least Robert created a job for himself by teaching English to the kids at the Internado. (My job was our co-op homeschool.)

Now we head home and pick up again on our other life. I'm ready. I'm ready for the over-stimulation and assault of abundance. I'm ready for some "noise." But, more than that I'm ready for some good American eats. I'll let an In-n-Out cheeseburger make my day. See, I've learned to appreciate the little things.

Coronado Island drama

2009-06-28T23:54:00.005-06:00

We've made two excursions taking friends to Coronado Island in the last week. The ocean is a perfect temperature for wading and snorkeling. There are no stinky dead squid yet washed up on the Coronado shores. However, the bees are a nuisance. Maybe a picnic on the beach is not a good idea--the minute you pop open a soda you have company and more company. Soon we were abandoning our picnic spot and moving further into the shoreline. Our little maltese, Chloe, was confused and annoyed by them. The children resorted to burying her in the sand to hide her. We had fun with that until people starting getting stung.

Robert was stung on the tip of his tongue as he took a swig from a thermos. By then, everyone was eager to depart, but bees were swarming the boat preventing us from boarding. The children were now half-panicked and near tears. I waded out from the shore with them to try to escape the bees while Robert and the other adults fired up the boat and sped off shore to blow them off. We waited like stranded refugees, me clutching Chloe and comforting Allie who now took on the fear that we might be abandoned to our fate with the bees. Robert returned for us like a rescuer, "get on, quick" and we clamored onboard to safety. I was last to get on--I had one hand occupied in grip of our dog, the other attempting a crawl stroke reminiscent of my high school summer as a lifeguard. Am doing this right? It really wasn't at all as traumatic as that, it wasn't a killer bee scenario, but it was a little fun to play up the drama.

Oh, and surprisingly, Robert's tongue did not swell up like we expected. I imagined we might need medical care, but he seemed unfazed. My hero.

Poster Boy for the dream

2009-06-28T22:26:00.004-06:00

We're spending more time in and on the water as the temperatures climb. One by one our friends and neighbors are leaving for the States. That and the upheaval with the "suspension" of TSD Loreto Bay Partners is making a ghost town of our neighborhood. The suspense in "suspension" is something we're learning to live with. We have no more insight than the next person to what direction the development will take. We are fortunate to have a completed home. Living here as much as we do we have a more relaxed perspective. We have time to cultivate and enjoy "the dream" that everyone bought into even if it has been greatly altered. In the meantime we enjoy what we can.

We've hosted two parties this month for our neighbors. We are fortunate to have a world-class chef in the neighborhood, Rodrigo Tapia, who runs the La Mision Restaurant. The wonderful food he and his wife, Blanca, prepared elevated everyone's mood. They prepared dorado that Robert caught and lobster we bought from a local fisherman into dishes fit for a formal occasion. Some friends are employees of Loreto Bay, now having to look for new work. Some friends are nervous homeowners with uncompleted houses. Coming together socially seemed like an act of reassurance. For those of us who remain, we're in it together. For those who have to move on, we enjoyed our acquaintance and wish them well.

Now, we are too are finally winding down our time here. Another two or three weeks and we will head home until next winter. It's not even the increasingly hot weather that compels me to go, but the departure of friends. For what is a place without friends?

Scorpion Bay for Beginners

2009-06-11T01:28:00.010-06:00

Before being so rudely interrupted by reality, we were enjoying a nice excursion to the Pacific side. We followed the Browns to San Juanico for an attempt at surfing the waves at Scorpion Bay. Our son Ryan tenaciously, over two days, worked at getting vertical on the surf board. Robert gave it a shot too. Being Midwest-born and bred he'd never even touched a surfboard. And what a sight to see our old Tahoe, the one that's taken us to the ends of the continent on family vacations and Ryan's baseball tournaments, toting surfboards on its roof.

We loved the open-air cantina at the campgrounds. I imagine a lot of fun times are had there. Scorpion Bay is noted for being a premier surfing spot. The beach is shallow and long; the waves are consistent and mild and lengthy. Surfers can catch waves that last forever. There's unrestricted freedom. You can bring your vehicle right on the beach; your dog too. The surf culture looks pretty cool, but I think Robert and I missed that wave. Maybe Ryan has a shot at it. I didn't try, but then I didn't have the equipment or body gear. My mission, as always, is to videotape and photograph everyone else's fun. I put together a video of Ryan. It's mostly wipe-outs, but I think it demonstrates that kid's tenacity and good humor.

We rented a very nice little house and the Browns rented a casita across from the beach. We spent our evenings together playing board games and watching Ryan act silly with the kids. Other than playing on the beach there is nothing else to see or visit. Riding waves is the only reason for visiting. It's all about the surfing. San Juanico is teeny-tiny and ugly. There is a small fishing industry there so part of the beach is occupied with pangas and an overabundance of sea birds which pollute the beach with their droppings. We ate at the only taco stand open to find the same woman cooking at the cantina the next day. Great tacos, by the way. When we crested the big hill northbound on Highway One where Loreto Bay comes into view, we all exclaimed how much more beautiful is "this side." And when we unlocked our front door, threw down our baggage, and entered our casa, we all exclaimed, "We're home. I love our house." I realized instantly how this casa has become a real home to us.

The trip was a lot of fun and we may venture over there again for another try. But for non-surfers, you cannot beat the Sea of Cortez. There is such abundant marine life and points of interest, and the Sierra de Las Gigantas makes for a dramatic backdrop. Loreto Bay is beautiful as far as the Baja goes. I'm ready to get snorkeling.

Two steps forward, one step back....

2009-06-09T23:35:00.005-06:00

Days ago we were haggling with Bob Toubman, our condominium administrator about our renegade attempt to install a front step. After three years of a promised step we decided to make it happen ourselves. However, we willfully neglected to apply to the design committee, instead designing the step on the fly. We had seized the opportunity and by-God we were going to get our step. Of course, we were ordered to cease, prompting me to begin the plea process, only to be given permission anyway just days later. Too easy, I mused.

Had I known what was brewing I could have seen how insignificant our issue was.

We were away over the weekend when the news of the ultimate demise of the Loreto Bay Company was announced. We all saw it coming, but the sudden announcement caught everyone by surprise, even the employees. There is just no more money coming, no funds to continue operations. The hope that a buyer for the project would step up seems to have de-materialized and we are left with only guesses to what the future holds for us.

Employees tell me that they were notified Saturday of their termination. I believe, including the construction crews, there are over 700 workers. Everyone is now left to scramble for new employment. A walk through the Inn affirmed the reality of the news: Every chair, table, lounger, umbrella, towel, desk, potted plant, vanished. The swimming pools are slowly draining. Chalk marks in the sand are drawn for the fencing that will encompass the ghost hotel. The kayaks will be removed probably tomorrow. The golf course is now closed and no further maintenance will be provided for the tennis center. It's pool will be drained also. Furniture and fixtures from all the offices will be removed this week.

I'm told that, through the HOA and property management funds, services to Founders Neighborhood will still function. Security, trash removal, pest control, and landscaping will continue. However, the existing management company must be desolved and reconstructed under another authority, namely homeowners. I can see where we will have to become more involved in our destiny. Right now, it is so early that no one knows exactly what will be necessary. I believe many still hold out hope that the project will be bought soon. Well, it's now or never.

There is also a feeling among some homeowners and employees that this termination of operations had to happen for real change to take place. The idea being we need to shake off the old system and begin anew. We do not feel any sense of dread. The future could mean that we homeowners will take more control over the direction of the project. It will contract into something quite different than the original developers envisioned. Smaller, tighter, more realistic; maybe similar to a country club or a gated community. We'll have to scale back to a position we can sustain as a neighborhood, not a commercial center or resort. God knows, we all wished for the dream of a blend of commercial with residential, but it's not going to happen, not for a long time.

Of course we need to see the unfortunate homeowners in Agua Viva get their homes finished. That's a enormous problem for which I don't have an answer. I'm not the only one. We all feel concern and empathy for them. We need to pave the Paseo, complete the exterior landscaping, and address our parking issues. The hotel is of least concern now, likewise, the desired beach club, but the golf course we must save. There is a strong possibility it will no longer be maintained. The word is that is will be managed until the end of the month. (The sprinklers were running tonight.) It requires tens of thousands of dollars every month to maintain the course. Could it go back to Fonatur? No one can predict. I'm already envisioning us homeowners having to provide that money through dues and memberships. As far as the tennis center, forget it, not enough interest to save it. The few of us who play weekly will have to find some way to sweep the courts and replace nets, etc. It will continue to look like the relic its always been.

I may be getting ahead of myself which is what one does when faced with the unknown. It's easy to say what we need, but how is another story. Right now we wait for more news and say goodbye to many familiar faces.

Stuck in time

2009-06-01T09:51:00.015-06:00

Allison's music school had a recital this past Friday evening. It was her first ever. She played the piano (electric keyboard actually) and she did very well, we thought. Her friend, Chandler, also played piano. No stage fright among those two. (Click here to see the edited video)

The event was held at the museum courtyard at the Mission, a charming place for a gathering, especially at sunset. I would keep glancing up at the mission bell tower admiring the centuries-old rock work along with the clock that's perpetually stuck at 8:05. What would those Jesuits think to see us here today? Could they have imagined the plastic chairs and electric pianos, the cameras and cell phones? The juxtaposition of the old with the modern is something that continually fascinates me. The more we move into the future the odder and more precious man-made objects become. Especially when you consider the labor required to create them. And that is indeed what makes objects of the past so emotionally weighted. You think about the creators along with the creation. You cannot separate the two. Nobody will look at a plastic chair with the same emotion, ever

In a flash of inspiration I suggested to Allison and her girlfriends, Grace, and Chandler that when they all turn fifteen we should throw a triple Quinceanera party for them in the same spot. Where else (as teenagers) will they get the opportunity to wear a princessy evening gown? Recently we attended a Quinceanera, which is the American version of a coming-out party, or debutante debut. It too, was held at the Mission. It's certainly not all about the dresses and the party; I was very impressed with the entire ritual of introducing a young girl to the community, especially the part where she sits before the priest for a long personal lecture about her responsibilities, her duties, her attitudes, her future. Wow. There's no ambiguity in that production. A girl would come away with a very definite idea of what is expected of her, and more so, what her value is to the world. I felt it was an honor to be invited to witness the process.

May is the best month

2009-05-31T13:41:00.003-06:00

May has been the best month ever. Not only great for getting outside in the water, but just full of all kinds of memorable times.

Ryan and I took kayaks out around Point Nopolo in into the estuary yesterday. He brought his dog, Banks, who is still a puppy, along. Banks had never been in the ocean and now he was perched on the front end of a kayak overwhelmed with the sights and sounds. It was fun to watch his reactions. There was a huge colony of brown pelicans along the rock that would reluctantly take flight when we got too close. It's almost frightening when they pass overhead in large numbers--they make such a racket. Then there was all the sea life below. The sea was so calm and clear; we could see numerous starfish and anemones and every type of fish. I could barely contain my delight. Poor Banks, he didn't know what to think. He would repeatedly jump off the kayak and soon realize he had nowhere to go. Ryan would have to pull him back on the kayak. The dog certainly wore himself out.

Robert is wearing himself out as well. With Ryan here he's more active. This morning, at daybreak, I heard them making commotion in the kitchen as they prepared to go fishing. It's 2:00pm and they're not back yet. I am faithfully waiting for the "catch," because we are long overdue for a fish feast. If it's not fishing, then they are at the pool swimming, or throwing tennis balls great distances for the dog to fetch, or doing handi-work around the house like erecting a make-shift fence for Banks.

Robert has also started volunteering at the Internado in Loreto. Internado is the Spanish word for boarding school. It serves the many children who live on ranches in rural Baja (ha, an oxymoron for sure) where there are no schools. Although he knows no Spanish he is invaluable as a fun guy who will play games and entertain these wonderful kids. Whatever he does with them they are just happy for the fun and distraction. His involvement makes me curious to join, but this is his own pursuit, I don't want to hone in on him. Besides I have enough with our own "kids," the ones we are homeschooling. I had them making sugar cube Mayan pyramids this week. The project turned out to be more enjoyable than I imagined.

Puppy in the rain spout

2009-05-31T00:37:00.006-06:00

Yes, that's a dog in the rain spout. Every night when we pass this house we hear the puppy bark, but it wasn't until recently that Robert discovered he was actually in the rain spout.

Finding a dead whale

2009-05-28T20:59:00.003-06:00

Robert found a decomposing whale carcass earlier this week. He was fishing along the coastline just south of Loreto Bay. Our friend, Bruce, says that it's fortunate to find something like this so close to home (not fortunate for the whale, which is probably a fin whale, but exciting for the curious.) I think most dead whales sink to to ocean floor and decompose and get eaten. Dead whales don't often strand onshore. I have no idea how this whale ended up on the shore.

Robert took his fish fillet knife and sawed off a piece of the vertebrae for a souvenir of sorts. He estimates the single vertebrae weighs about 5o pounds, but Bruce says in a year, as the oil leeches out, it will reduce in weight to about 5 pounds. Other people have been carving at it the carcass as well. No telling how much longer it will be there.

A few days later Robert took Allison and some of the neighbor kids out for a look. They were impressed, but apparently the carcass was "stinky." Even at that degree of decomposition the whale emits a terrible odor.

Nice work if you can get it

2009-05-25T23:15:00.004-06:00

Our younger son, Ryan, has arrived to begin an unpaid summer internship with Dolphin Dive. He'll spend 12 weeks assisting in the shop, learning how the business is run; a pretty cherry summer job, we think. The only downside for him is that he'll be away from his friends. I'm thrilled to have him in our lives like old times. This closeness may never happen again. He'll finish school and move on never to live with mom and dad again--at least that's the plan.

He seems excited to be here. This is, after all, a virtual playground. For an active person there is much to do. He and Robert have already taken the boat out fishing. Soon he will be taking clients out on scuba adventures. I predict it will be the best summer of his life. Enjoy it now, we say, there's plenty of hard work ahead.

Our home school is going well. Things are falling into place. The kids meet at our dining table every morning with Natalia. M-W-F the kids go to Lynda's for lunch and language arts. T-TR they stay with me for lunch and a history lesson. This week we'll study the Mayans, next, the Aztecs. When we finish they ride their bikes to the pool and I usually won't see Allison again till dinner-time. She's at that happy age I remember so well. Afternoons spent on bicycles and at friends' houses, exploring the world outside and coming home famished and exhausted.

Being in the minority, these kids receive a lot of good attention from the adults that live and work here. I absolutely love that. What a gift, I think, to see them interact in the world of adults. Here, people have the time and interest to speak to them, to share things with them. Allison is growing so comfortable with conversing with adults. She even has favorites that she stops to visit. People inquire about her, include her. It sounds corny but, this is a village helping raise my daughter. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Whatever might be lacking, there is that unique element that this life here offers. Okay, I do admit I have one concern: that she will think adults have all the free time in the world to play, including her parents. In a worrisome moment I said to Robert, "Are we setting an unreal expectation for her? " Unlike our sons she won't remember us working. She may grow up thinking that a lot of people don't have to work and she'll be lazy. He answers by reassuring me that with me for a mother she doesn't stand a chance of being lazy. (He thinks I am too project-oriented.)

Anyhoo, I do enjoy life at the moment far removed from the toils of the past. I keep it real by reminding myself that life can change on a dime. These are just good old days in the making.

Getting the education you want

2009-05-14T23:16:00.007-06:00

Sunday we took a late afternoon ride in the boat. There is just no way a photo (one that I take) can capture the beauty of Loreto Bay at sunset. Robert and I try to walk every evening at sunset along the golf course, just like at home, but here the scenery is much better. There's a hole that is perched in a hillside with picture perfect views to the ocean on one side; the mountains on the other. We always stop there for a moment to take it all in. Robert stands on the bluff surveying the ocean: I sit on the turf mesmerized by the variations of shadow and light the setting sun throws on the mountains. Again, another example of how differently two people look at the world. Once I sputtered, "Stop looking at that ocean and look at this!"

It's really perfect here now; the days are warm and getting warmer. Many folks are readying to leave for the summer. We too, want to get out before it gets too hot, but then if you do, you miss a lot of what the Sea of Cortez has to offer. The sea gets warmer and more inviting. Snorkeling and scuba diving become enticing again. All attention goes to the water for relief and recreation.

We decided after the long spring break followed by two more weeks off for fear of swine flu (there was none), to home-school Allison. The Ford family has joined us in creating our own "school" with Natalia acting as schoolmistress. For three hours she teaches math and Spanish (totally in Spanish) then Lynda and I follow with other subjects. I've donned myself head of the history department. My lessons will follow the early history of Mexico, or Mesoamerica, starting with a fascinating ancient civilization, the Olmecs, a culture that carved those colossal stone heads, and ending with the Spanish conquest. I am currently obsessed with researching material to offer the kids, a challenging task as there are no Borders Books and swanky libraries here in Loreto. We manage to get by with a lot of help from internet downloads and Youtube videos. Natalia is going to La Paz this weekend: maybe she'll have luck finding some appropriate reading material.

Again, my hope is to eventually start a school in Loreto Bay, or at least create a space for a learning center. We could pool our resources, adding materials as we go until we have our own "library" and workshop. Until then, we are doing fine with what we have. In many ways it is the ideal situation: we create the education we want.

Back to Loreto

2009-05-05T02:24:00.005-06:00

We had three wonderful weeks in San Diego. We flew back to Loreto, put Allison back in school only to see it let out for two weeks more due to the Swine Flu scare. However, there is no swine flu anywhere in these parts. I think the whole affair is overblown and will fade away like the West Nile Flu and other "potential pandemics." Meanwhile the Mexico economy suffers and good people are without work.

I'm so happy to be back in Loreto Bay where the pace is slow. I love San Diego. We could live there. It's biggest drawback to me is the humanity. There, if you have an idea to do something, you can count on waiting behind twenty other people having the same idea at the same time. Here I'm accustomed to having full run of the show. No lines, no real traffic. BUT, no amenities. It is quite the trade-off. However, I do like the privilege of living in both worlds.

Rather than Allison miss any more school we're having Natalia over every day for "homeschool." The Ford children are joining us too. We are working out the details for forming our own school here in Loreto Bay. It is something I have been working towards since day one. Now that Allison's Spanish is improved I think the time is right to move back to a more progressive curriculum. The beauty of it all is that we have Natalia, who only speaks Spanish. She will teach them for three hours in the a.m. totally in Spanish and then we parents will take over for the afternoon with our own specialities.

I am singularly focused on this project at the moment. I am no teacher, but I know where to find resources. I believe we will create a wonderful environment for these kids and that this will be the seed for other families with school-age children. I am very excited about this. We have a lot of planning ahead. More on that later.

Months ago we talked with the kids about building a fort. They must have gotten tired of the talk and built the thing themselves--or rather assembled it. The last few days they have disappeared around the corner from the Fords' house to a spot beside a home under construction. There they gathered scraps and fashioned a little deck/clubhouse. Form this photo it may look like nothing, but we thought it was pretty cute.

Other news: The Puerto Escondido Yacht Club held its annual Loreto Fest this weekend. Allie and I took a look (Robert is still home in the States.) I thought they put out a lot of effort to make it as entertaining as possible. If nothing else, they had the most beautiful setting as a back-drop. Our dear friend, and neighbor, Cathy, gave a nice vocal performance. Most people there were the crusty sailor types. Arr arr arrgh, a sailor's life for me. I wish I could, but I just can't see myself living on a boat. Now an Airstream trailer--that's different!

Birch Aquarium

2009-04-29T16:47:00.007-06:00

You find fish on a smaller scale at the Birch Aquarium. We've been to plenty of aquariums throughout the U.S. and the Birch was memorable for sure. We enjoyed meandering through the Hall of Fishes, an exhibit of Pacific marine life from over 60 habitats. We enjoyed the tanks with the Baja California fish, like Dorado and Yellowtail, most of which we recognized from our scuba dives and from the catches Robert brings home.

The coral exhibits are especially interesting when you think that something that looks so plant like--leafy and flowering--is actually an animal. A trip to an aquarium reminds you how life here is unbelievably genius.

My mother and her dear friend, Gary, joined us in San Diego for a few days of sight-seeing. Here's a photo of my mother, Allie and me outside the aquarium.

Sea World

2009-04-25T19:27:00.007-06:00

We visited Sea World where Robert caught this shot of Allie and I "kissing" the Orca as it swam past us in the tank.

I tried to get the same shot of him doing the same, but could never get the timing right.

Allison leaps of a cliff

2009-04-23T23:52:00.009-06:00

We spent the first few days in San Diego getting our Airstream set up and then driving around the area sight-seeing. Robert happened across this site on a bluff where hang gliders were launching out over the Pacific. It was cold that day and we'd driven all over the county so Allison and I weren't too keen to sit outdoors. However, we indulged Robert's curiosity. Admittedly, it was an amazing sight to see this people being lifted by the wind to such great heights.

We had found the Torrey Pines Gliderport on a day that happened to be the best of the year so far for gliding conditions; it must have put all the pilots in a great mood. One approached Allison and began chatting with her. "Are you twelve?," he asked. "Nine, then? Okay good enough to go for a ride." Turns out he was the owner of the facility and he asked her to go up with him. To my amazement she said yes. It all happened so fast. I was signing waivers and she was getting prepped and before I knew it she was in the air. Up until the moment she lifted, I expected her to bail out in fear. And when she finally touched down I looked her face over for tears, but she was all smiles and ready to go at it again. Thank you to Robin Marien, whose confident insistence that Allie was in safe hands led Robert and I to give up our daughter to her greatest adventure ever. On top of that he gave it to her for free.

To view a video of her launch go here:

Escape to San Diego

2009-04-17T19:55:00.010-06:00

Now my excuse is that I don't have my camera USB cable to download photos to my Mac. I'm slow to write because we are often without Internet connection. Presently, we are north of San Diego, mostly in Cardiff-by-the-Sea. Allison has two weeks off from school so we decided to follow the Brown family up the Baja to San Diego, a road trip that was uneventfully safe. They left last week, but we're here for awhile longer visiting friends and family, shopping, sight-seeing, eating. Eating. I've sampled it all to my heart's content: In-n-Out burgers, corn dogs, VG's donuts, Red Mango frozen yogurt, pasta, pizza, cotton candy, anything that can not be found in Loreto-by-the-Sea, Baja California Sur.

Yessiree. And that is just the eats. We've towed Allison through Sea World, the Birch Aquarium in La Jolla, hiking and para-gliding in Torrey Pines, (yes, she para-glided) nearly every museum in Balboa Park, two movies of her choice, and several trips to the shopping mall for all those "necessities" we've been without. At some point we will be fat as ticks and need to return to our aesthetic life in Loreto to deflate. We've spent way too much dinero; it is easy to do in the States. My first trip to the grocery store left me aghast at the price of a loaf of bread, the "good" bread--over $4.00 a loaf. I bought five assorted pastry items at a bakery in Coronado that set me back 14 bucks. And that was after $7.50 a single scoop ice cream cone earlier in the stroll.

We pulled Airstream Abby out of storage. (We'd left her in Phoenix, but our friend borrowed her and stored her nearby.) We've stayed at San Elijo State Park when a site was available and at Campland when San Elijo was full, which is nearly always. Campland in Mission Bay is the Wally World of campsites, a full service operation which adds to comfort, but the atmosphere is amusement park-like. One week was enough. Since we can't get continuous time at San Elijo we'll now be roughing it at a RV park next to the Del Mar racetrack--meaning there is no Internet, cable, or showers.

The San Elijo campground is in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, a little hamlet called along the ocean north of Del Mar with iconic eateries and cute hang-outs. We had breakfast one morning at Pipes, the favorite of surfer dudes. I love to haunt the Seaside Market, a super-cute grocery with eye-popping produce. The campground is booked solid through October. Easy to understand why--a prime location oceanside. It's also surfer central. There is even a surf school on site. At the crossroads of Highway 101 and Chesterfield Drive sits a bronze sculpture of a surfer. He's supposed to represent the heart of Cardiff surf culture, but he's been met with a lot of playful ribbing by residents who've nicknamed him "The Kook," and dress him regularly in goofy attire.

We've been hanging with our good friend, David, who lives in Cardiff, and my cousin who is in Carlsbad. She had us all over for Easter Sunday, Italian-style. She's a W.A.S.P like me, but married an Italian, learned to cook mouth-watering lasagna and command, "Manga!" My mother drove up from Mesa, AZ with a good friend for several days. The days and their events have become blurred--we've packed in so much. I intend to pack in a lot more in the week left to us.

Families tied

2009-04-04T00:04:00.012-06:00

I've been lazy about posting, it's true, but my excuse is: we are having too much fun. Our friends and fellow home owners, the Allens,' were in town for a week. They merged with us and the Browns' for one fun-filled, kid-centered day after another: boating, swimming, tennis, hikes, mule-rides, sleep-overs. We traveled as a pack from one activity to another becoming a moving mass of big and little bodies, requiring tables in restaurants to be pushed together, and complex permutations over how 12 people can fit into 2 cars so that 3 certain girls can always sit together and the only two boys are never separated.

Our mule ride near San Javier was especially fun. Actually, the kids rode the mules while we parents trailed behind on foot. It was just less than an hour ride up a gravel trail to a watering hole, no challenge at all. The most interesting aspect of the event, to me, was the little ranch where the ride originated. A open-air shack with an outhouse that requires each user to fill a bucket from the well to dump in the toilet so it could flush. Does that disqualify it from being an outhouse, I wonder? After all, it did have a ceramic toilet.

I guess you could say the owners lived very primitively and self sufficiently. They had a vegetable garden. The goats were all milk goats. The pigs were being fattened. A table in the "house" was strewn with leather and shoe cobbling tools. A windmill served two purposes, one being the landmark to find this remote homestead on the road to San Javier. Of course the car ride itself is half the adventure. Having done it twice I am less easy to scare. The rocky cliff drop-offs on the narrow mountain passes aren't as daunting the second or third time around. However the wreathed memorial spot where the Professor and his lady went sailing off Thelma-and-Louise style to their deaths still elicits a shudder.

There was a flurry of construction in the beginning stretch of the road to San Javier. The state of Baja California Sur intends to pave the entire 32-kilometer road to the Mission. We had to maneuver around the heavy machinery and workers and over some chunky rocks. We even picked up a hitch-hiker. Or rather, Doug Brown did. The man was obviously a worker hoping to catch a ride up a to a waiting crew. Doug hollered for him to go around back. We all waited, uneasy, as we expected him to open the hatch and hop in the car. Instead he stepped onto the bumper and braced himself against the roof rack. Off we went. A mile later he hopped off to join his waiting buddies under a tree.

I'd say the mule adventure was a success meaning no one was injured or bitten by a rattlesnake. A dip in the shallow pool at the end of the ride was another highlight followed by a stop at Del Barrachos for hamburgers and milkshakes and re-entry to the present times.

Outside the lines

2009-03-10T00:22:00.004-06:00

I know other homeowners are concerned with the big issue of the future of Loreto Bay as well as the upcoming condo regime meetings, but me, I'm living in my little world, happy in my belief that every little thing's gonna be alright.

I'm one of the homeowners on the ground working on community building, a concept I understood the original Loreto Bay founders wanted to promote. Having lived in the suburbs all my life I was intrigued by the idea of living in a village where neighbors were encouraged to interact. Loreto Bay appealed to me on that level. Here, there are no garages to pull into undetected. I like seeing familiar faces daily and sharing the experience of navigating life in a foreign country together. As the years pass we are establishing a history together and becoming dear friends. That might not be the goal of many who bought here, but for some of us I'm sure it's an desired outcome of village life.

There is a core group that spends a good portion of each year here. We are one of them. Since we have a young child I find myself compelled make our environment as enriching as possible to her. I'm always looking for ways to bring kids together and ensure that their time here is as rich as possible (plus, it gives me something to do.) On Fridays I hold our house open to kids who want to do arts and crafts. So far the number is small; there are not that many children in Loreto Bay. Their recent project I hung on a clothesline outside my house thinking that other residents might enjoy their work, might enjoy anything different and unusual on their strolls through the neighborhood. Today I was asked (politely) to take it down due to condo regime rules. God forbid I dirty up the pristine atmosphere of the stuccoed environment. However, I think my point was made that real people are living here and we're bound to spill outside the lines.

It's time for a community center, a common place for neighbors to gather. I'm hoping somehow I can wrangle a space from whoever-the-powers-that-be are for this purpose. I envision having a commercial space along the Paseo reserved for homeowners for hanging out. It could have a lending library, card tables, games, television, worktables, a bulletin board. It could host workshops, Spanish lessons, etc. Nothing so fancy, just a hang-out. I know this is nowhere near the top of priorities for Loreto Bay and even for homeowners who are still struggling to get their homes built, but it seems worthwhile to me and I hope we can get it started.

Solutions

2009-03-02T22:25:00.008-07:00

I'm always after Robert to help me with some project around the house. I like to be a busy-body at home always adding improvements and personal touches. He knows to be ready with the drill. My Christmas present was a chandelier he re-fashioned with star-shaped lanterns for over the patio table. He worked a whole weekend stringing and wiring and balancing the thing. He even gave it a toggle on/off switch. My hero.

R0bert is a closet handy-man who requires just a little shove now and then. So, of course, I feel it necessary to draw out his talents by supplying him with projects. I regret that we don't own more square footage around our little chica for me to design and expand. As it is, I have to work within the confines of this postage stamp-sized abode. Ahh, but there is the outside. My creativity is already spilling outside. I'm eyeing the common spaces around us calculating how I could plant some herbs and flowers or maybe mosaic a cement bench or arrange more potted plants on the sidewalk. On Fridays I have been holding an art/crafts session for the neighborhood kids, the village kids, I think I'll start calling them, up on the patio. My plan is to start displaying their artwork outside for the neighborhood to see. I started to pester Robert about my designs for a display board. It ended in us stopping to see Jeff at West Coast Millworks to build me something.

In a week's time I should have an 8x4 plywood and corkboard panel to mount on a wall outside somewhere. Jeff says I can come to the shop to stain or paint the framing however I wish. I'm thrilled to have a project, Robert is thrilled not to have to build it. The kids will be proud to show off their artwork and I think the residents will be happy to see something creative going on. Everybody wins.

There was just one little more thing: I want either a dutch door or some kind of gate to keep Chloe from wondering outside, yet keep our home open to the outside. Robert tagged along looking for something we could fashion into a gate. Actually, he hoped to find a ready-made baby gate; I hoped he'd build me something less plastic-y. I was talking fencing wire and framing and lumber and hammered iron hardware. I even got him to come along to the Sunday flea market (an event I would never even consider stepping foot in back home but here in Loreto it is a highlight of the week for many shopping-starved souls who hope for the near impossible--a perfect strawberry, an unbruised apple, a pair of unused shoes.) We poked around for the baby gate and, while we were at it, an unusual sized battery for a remote control but finding neither.

We ended up buying a worn filet knife for the equivalent of a buck-fifty, a fabulous find for Robert who needed one for fishing. His mood was considerably perked by the act of procuring a bargain and thus in his mind we were finished and it was time for us to go. I persevered a bit more to gather up some vegetables--a decent head of lettuce, garlic, onions, some shelled peas. I always pass on the raw meat. I don't know, something about raw meat on display in the open, sans refrigeration and protective covering, repels me.

As for the doggie gate: This is my solution and it's cheap. The water jug barrier. No installation required.

Pool progress

2009-03-02T21:58:00.004-07:00

This is a photo of the community pool recently filled with water. It should be officially opened in two weeks. Rumor is that the community pool in our cluster is next to be built, but when, I don't know. We are in the neighborhood where the spa was originally planned to be located.

The best schools

2009-02-25T22:55:00.012-07:00

This is the inside of Allison's fourth grade classroom. The desks are probably circa-1960, all 33 of them. Heck, maybe one of them could be mine that somehow found it's way down here via divine flea market destiny. The kids are pretty packed in there, but somehow they manage. God bless their patient maestra.

Alllison is actually doing pretty well. Her Spanish is improving so she feels more confident. Her grades are good. She came home with an A in math this week, and it was the hard stuff--triple digit multiplication and fractions. She has plenty of friends, and a boy with a crush on her. Lunch continues to be a problem. There is no cafeteria, no hot lunches, no milk cart. I am burdened with the daily task of preparing something nutritious and interesting. I hate that.

The curriculum can't compare to what we'd get back home, but we're not there for that. For all that is lacking in resources and amenities there is so much on the side of good will. The children are so sweet and accepting, respectful and helpful. The don't have attitudes. I feel good about her being there.

Before we returned here I visited and pre-enrolled her in a private school in Kansas City where her cousins attend. The school has a Harry Potter aura to me as far as it's campus setting. It was founded at the turn of the 20th century and has the look of an ivy-league school that exudes prestige and good taste. I think I just like it for the architecture. My thinking was that we'd put her there this fall, you know, finally be serious parents and get her in a serious school. Yet, when I think about really settling down to it, I hesitate. As wonderful an education it will offer, there is much to be said about the one she's getting here at Colegio Calafia. Even with it's third world disadvantages, it is something uniquely special.

I hope she looks back on these days with fondness and gratitude. If nothing else, she will return to American schools with an appreciation, I hope, for all the abundance and high standards that money can buy. But then, even the poorest of U.S. schools has soap and paper towels in the bathrooms. Heck, any school in the U.S. will seem rich to her after this.

Little colt lost

2009-02-17T09:02:00.003-07:00

Allowing livestock to roam freely is regular practice here. So it is no surprise when something becomes road kill. It is just so sad to see this sweet colt go down.

We were growing accustomed to his presence as he followed his mother grazing alongside the highway. We'd usually only see them early in the morning on our way to take Allison to school. We looked forward to spotting him. Today when I saw him lying alongside the road I hoped that maybe he was just sleeping, but on the way back I checked him, actually touched him. His flesh was still soft so the accident must have happened early this morning. What else I could do I did not know. I'm sure the owner will discover him soon enough. So sad.

It made me recall a story I read about this horse that lived on the Silverado Trail near Calistoga, California. Everyone was familiar with this old horse. He became a living landmark to the people who drove past him every day on their way to work or school year after year. When he died the whole community mourned; they laid wreaths and notes along the barbed wire fence where he lived. The people felt they had lost something communally important, a shared treasure.

I thought a lot about this story at the time. I'd driven along the Silverado Trail so I knew how pastoral and beautiful it was. I could imagine what a lovely sight this horse in this setting was to the commuters passing by. But more than a pretty sight, he was surely a reassuring one. And more than that, a representative of a simplier, slower way of life in the past. I understood completely why he was beloved.

Our little colt didn't hang around long enough to become an icon. Still, the feeling of loss is similar to that of the people in my story.

Boating Fun

2009-02-15T23:03:00.005-07:00

We took the Allen family boating today. We made a stop at Puerto Escondido for gasoline and then over to Danzante Island for some beach time.

Our favorite little Allen guy, Clayton, found these crab legs.

Bruce, from Dolphin Dive was there instructing a couple in diving. He found some gigantic clams.

Robert was gracefully busy finding something that needed fixing on his boat.

What's good

2009-02-15T22:08:00.009-07:00

The neighborhood was a little busier than usual this weekend as it was Homeowners Weekend. I hope too many of them aren't disappointed with the progress. As we await news on who has bought our development we watch as some projects proceed and others are at a standstill. The sidewalks along the west side of the Paseo are almost completed, but work on the road itself has ceased.
There is a crew working diligently on the community pool (I hear it is just weeks away from completion.) There are some crews that continue the work on the rock walls of the estuaries and some building in Agua Viva. Work on the Pasadas is non-existent.

Of course, we hope this all changes as a new owner comes on board. Nobody seems to know anything much. We just keep asking each other the same questions. However, we ourselves, aren't worried. Robert and I know things will sort themselves out eventually. Momentum is slow now, but it still feels to me that things are moving forward. We have faith.

I like to joke that we are happy in our own little world, living in our little chica. We ride our bikes avoiding the potholes and pitfalls like we own the place. We say to each other that these might be the good old days--when everything was fresh and uncertain and we dug right in. Still, we do like to dream. Wouldn't it be nice to have a convenience market in Nopolo? When will the tennis center be manned again and the bathrooms unlocked? Will we ever get a beach club? Meanwhile we accentuate the positive.

We have found one wonderful, marvelous bright spot in dining: La Mision on the Malecon. We've eaten there four times now, each time a perfect experience. I never rave about restaurant; I am not a foodie, but when we eat at La Mision we end up talking about it all the next day. Last night we went with the Browns to celebrate Valentines Day. The chef, Rodrigo, had a special menu for the evening. When everyone in the restaurant was seated with their champagne he came to the floor and explained the courses and his decisions behind his selections. Then he returned to the kitchen where he proceeded to prepare course after course of delicious and interesting food all presented beautifully. For a couple of hours we were completely transported to another reality of white tablecloths and rolls with herbed butter and lamb chops in cherry reduction sauce with crispy fried yam chips: the spell broken only when we stepped outside the door to the noisy Malecon and the Saturday cruisers and the wafting scent of the stinky pelican-infested marina.

Keeping it real...here in beautiful Loreto.

Vultures

2009-02-11T14:44:00.007-07:00

Driving to Loreto this morning I saw a flock of turkey vultures pecking on what looked like a dead dog. Actually, it was a colony, not flock (I looked it up.) When I pulled over some of the birds flew off, but these undaunted big boys stayed firm on their perches.

I imagine the spreading of the wings is supposed to signify "back-off, intruder." I think they were more afraid I'd take their lunch. Yuck.

I've written about these guys before--in our early days in Loreto Bay. And they still creep me out.

Our own Mayberry

2009-02-04T21:59:00.008-07:00

We are humming right along. There is a nice, if simple, rhythm to our lives here in Loreto. I get up early to get Allison off to school, then Robert and I either work-out at the hotel gym or play tennis. We try to get out on our boat at least once a week. We take a long walk every other afternoon before sunset. Sometimes we follow the golf course to the tennis center, sometimes we walk closer to the ocean.

We visit with friends, work on little projects around the house. I read, surf the web, take naps on the terrace, think about what to make for dinner. Twice a week I take Spanish lessons in town. There is no stress whatsoever in our lives and we are grateful. I watch the news from the U.S. and it seems our country is falling apart. It makes me anxious and angry. I feel helpless to fix it. The problems are so big. The one thing I can do is create a sweet life here. Here, in Loreto Bay, everything is on a small scale and fresh. From here, we feel removed and protected. Are we escapists, I wonder? Should I feel bad about feeling so relaxed? Naaaaahhh.

All this will come to an end eventually. Eventually, I'll want Allison to go to school in the States, to get a better education than she could get here. And I want her to grow up feeling like an American. I love America for better or worse. But for the time being, this is a wonderful way to live. It's small town living with an exotic twist. Every day presents something for me to marvel over, do a double-take over, or just shake my head in astonished amusement. I do worry though, that my sense of wonderment will give way to complacency. How surprised can one be at the sight of cows and horses and burros on the highway every morning?

Allison's Spanish is improving. We and another family hired a local teacher, Natalia, to work with our children every day after school. She comes to our houses and helps with homework. Today they gathered around our table on the terrace--not a bad setting for school.

We parents work together to enrich the children's education by holding after-school classes. Doug Brown teaches world history or geography; I'm doing arts/crafts. All of us pitch in one way or another. And of course, the outdoor environment holds endless possibilities for exploration and adventure. The kids get to fish, go clamming, build sandcastles, ride their bikes all through the neighborhood. And they do something else, which rarely, if ever, happens at home in the suburbs: They stop and visit with adults. Most homeowners are here for leisure, so they have the time and the inclination to chat with our kids. It is not uncommon for Allison to drop in to say hello to Sherry and Tom. She'll visit with their dog, Chewy, and the parrots. Earlier, when Dee's dog had puppies, Allison and other children in the neighborhood regularly stopped in to cuddle them and chat with Dee. Ariel has invited children to her house to paint with watercolors.

There are just as many working adults, too. Allison is familiar with a great deal of the Loreto Bay staff and the other independent professionals by name. Daily, she gets little glimpses into the world of landscapers, maintenance men, architects, hotel staff. She gets to see Peter draw design plans in his office adjacent to our house. She watches workers laying pavers or setting water lines. She watches people at work every day all around her. So when I fret about the quality of her education I remember that I need to factor these elements in. Whatever is lacking in formal learning, is certainly balanced by the bounty of offerings right outside our door.

Dolphins

2009-01-26T19:31:00.003-07:00

Before we saw the killer whales we came across countless dolphins. Here's some video I captured and posted on Youtube.

Killer Whale Sighting

2009-01-24T22:15:00.015-07:00

Today seemed like a good day to get on the water. We took the boat to a beach on the back side of Carmen Island near the old salt mine. The ride was rough as we sped across the channel bumping our backsides the whole way. I clung to a towel for warmth and protection from the wind. I was being a good sport until about 45 minutes in when it seemed like we'd never get there and I suddenly had an urge to to kill Robert when, lucky for him, we spotted dolphins.

I've never seen so many at once; and so many young ones. There must have been a hundred. As usual, many followed our boat jumping and surging all around us. They were marvelous. The beach, when we finally arrived, was a nice stretch of white sand very thick with shells. We spent our time gathering shells and lying in the sun. The weather was just perfect, though the wind was beginning to pick up. We saw seagulls dining on beached Humboldt squid. Strange creatures, those squid.

I was dreading the return trip, but something wonderful happened along the way: We encountered killer whales. At first, I didn't believe Robert when he spotted them. There were two close to us and others at a greater distance. The two turned out to be mother and calf. They were breaching and diving and making quite a show. Incredibly, the two of them came right up to our boat, the baby close enough to touch if we'd been brave enough, but we were pretty jittery about the whole episode. You know, they're killer whales for Pete's sake.

God, they were magnificent. I tried to shoot some video, but between the rocking boat and the excitement and the glare of the sun I did not get the shots I wanted. I did get some of the two chasing down a water fowl, a duck, we thought. They seemed to be tormenting this poor duck. They would rush into it and attempt to toss it. But they never ate it. Amazingly, it managed in its weakened state to fly away eventually.

I posted a video, albeit a shaky one, here and on Youtube. However, the low quality is probably because there's not enough bandwidth here to upload high-quality video.

More of the same, but different

2009-01-15T22:41:00.000-07:00

With our daughter in school again I find I'm not posting much. Reason: I have to wake up early now; no more late-nights which is when I prefer to write. I have to haul my behind out of bed by 6:00 to get Allison ready for school. Really, I'm glad for the change. I need need the discipline.

The alley outside our house has been getting a little attention from the developers. It has gone through so many transformations I can't keep count. Once it was leveled and laid over with loose gravel; that was back when the heavy machinery used it as a thoroughfare. One day I awoke to find the gravel being removed. Hurray, landscaping must be coming! Months later it was once again a dust bowl. The gravel was replaced. Then removed.

Stone sidewalks appeared. And much later some plants down the center. Then the plants disappeared and huge holes were dug for trees. Weeks went by; we worried for any wayward pedestrian who might unsuspectingly fall into the abyss. We were relieved to see the holes being filled finally, even if it was with dirt, not trees.

This week a crew appeared and within two days we had this: an uninspiring field of plants, none which bear color, and we have no decorative rocks like the other alleys closer to the Inn.

Not to worry, I am told. This too, is only a temporary fix. Later, crews will remove everything including the sidewalks. We will be treated to a real professional job that includes wavy paved pathways, a fountain, bicycle racks, mesquite trees and, finally, the much needed step up to our doorway.

I don't want to appear to be complaining. I am always happy to see something, anything, happen in my cluster. I guess I find it somewhat amusing how things get done. And things are getting done. The neighborhood is busy with activity, mostly along the lines of landscaping and hardscaping. The paving of the Paseo has not resumed, but the water (or sewer?) pipe along the center of the Paseo has been repaired. Crews are working hard in Agua Viva, and the golf course is looking beautiful. Wish I could say the same for the tennis center, but that is long on the list of priorities for Replay. We play anyway, though the wind-blown dirt on the courts is growing thick as sand dunes.

Did I say I love living here? We are so happy to be here. Any inconvience is tempered with jubilation of waking every day to sunshine and the promises each day holds for outdoor fun. We are constantly on our bikes meandering through the neighborhood or taking long walks at sunset. We're playing tennis, golf, hiking, beachcombing, exploring. The weather is still somewhat cool in the morning and evenings (and in the shade) but, what we have is sun and that is a dear thing in January to us norteamericanos.

Back to School

2009-01-08T22:26:00.008-07:00

School began Wednesday. Allison is attending Colegio Calafia, the private Catholic school in Loreto. After the typical back-to-school jitters, she settled in quite well.

Mornings are difficult for us as I am not a morning person, and she is a perfectionist who dissolves into tears if I don't arrange her hair just right. We barely got off on time because I couldn't find her sweater. School begins at 8:00 a.m. and is out at 1:30 p.m.

Colegio is not a school you want to be late to. All the legendary Mexican disregard for promptness doesn't apply here--at least it hasn't in the past. There is a new Directora and she does not have the terse demeanor of the first one. We shall see how tight a ship she runs.

Happy New Year...here's your bus ticket!

2009-01-04T09:59:00.012-07:00

Beau and Karly left for home today. Their flight on Continental at 8:00 am left out of San Jose del Cabo. When we made arrangements in late November, all departing flights on Alaska from Loreto were booked. Leaving out of Cabo was the only option. Originally, I'd intended to purchase flights from Loreto to Cabo on Aero Calafia, but I waited too long and, they too, were sold out. Their plane carries only 13 passengers. Our next option was to drive them, but with my mother arriving to Loreto today, it would be too stressful to make a quick round-trip to Cabo. When I go to Cabo I prefer it to be because I really, really, need supplies--and--I need a diversion from the backwoods pace of Loreto.

The next option was the bus. But, God, could I subject them to a monotonous 8-hour ride in a nasty old Mexican bus? I didn't want their last impressions of their Christmas vacation to be tainted by the unpleasantries of public transportation. Robert sat me straight: "They are young--they can endure it. It will give them a story to tell." I know he's right, but...I can remember well the only bus ride I took. Seven hour and several stops in lonely, forgotten towns--and back in the days before cell phones, hand-held gaming devices, and hand sanitizer. I endured it well enough to say, "never again!" Oh, well. They will survive. So I got them on the 8:00 am bus on Saturday, reserved a hotel for them in Cabo, packed them a lunch, and bid them farewell.

I will miss my oldest son, especially since he really, sincerely, truly, loves being with us. Our younger is already squirming to get back to his friends even though it means exchanging swim trunks for thermal underwear. His college break is nearly a month long, but two weeks with your parents is eternity at his age and station. For now, I've got him right where I want him and, lucky him, there is no 8-hour bus ride in his future.

As for Beau and Karly, they have each other, so anything done together is more fun. I enjoyed watching them together. I see my son broaden his focus to include another's welfare. Besides being cute, it gives me a certain sense of pride to see him look after Karly. For Robert, I know he gets pride in seeing Beau develop his business. Me too, but I respond with a sigh of satisfaction when I see scenes like the one in this photo. As a mother I can say, got that part right.

Boat's Afloat

2009-01-03T20:18:00.007-07:00

We took Robert's new boat out Wednesday. This was my first time on it. It had some mechanical difficulties earlier in the week that perplexed Robert until finally he managed a fix. He is supercharged about his little boat. ( I think it's little, he thinks it's just right.)

Now we can get out on the water and really enjoy living on the Sea of Cortez. It's true; if you don't get on the water you're missing half of what's special about Loreto Bay--the dolphins, the whales, the seals, the occasional sea turtle, and all the other marine life. We saw a turtle paddling the waters around Coronado Island. The sight surprised Robert as he first thought it was the tip of a rock outcropping and he almost veered away. I tried to photograph it but it dove under as we approached it more closely.

The dolphins are my favorite. When I'm out there I'm looking for them every minute. More than often we find them (or they find us) and they'll tag along for awhile, racing about the boat, bounding out of the water. The motivation for their frolicking could only be pure, playful joy. We can't contain our excitement over the spectacle. And maybe they find our joy just as amusing as we hang over the boat gawking, laughing, pointing. Beau painted a funny, but quite probably accurate, idea of how the dolphins must see us humans: physical manifestations of the expression "WOW." What goofs we must look like to them.

Tomorrow, the guys are going out at sunrise to fish. Word's out that the fish are biting. Allison and are taking a pass, but our friend, Doug, and his little boy were game. They must be pretty excited: Doug phoned me tonight to tell me he's preparing a lunch for the four or them. Does Robert like tuna salad, egg salad, or peanut butter and jelly? As if it matters. He's just giddy to get out on the sea and frolic. Happy happy joy joy.

Tabor Canyon and Tiramisu

2008-12-31T19:16:00.010-07:00

We've been so busy with our visiting family; it's hard to sit and write. Saturday was Beau's birthday. We celebrated by hiking Tabor Canyon. (The first photo is of he and Karly.)Not for the feint of heart, this hike requires scrambling over huge boulders and scaling ridges strewn with crumbling rock. Earlier this spring Robert and I took it to the top--a thousand feet I believe. It took us six hours round-trip with a break for lunch. At the higher elevations there are beautiful views to the ocean across Puerto Escondido. It is one of the more memorable experiences a visitor to this area could have. The rain from the hurricane in October has left the region wet and green. There are pools of water where there was none earlier this year.

This time we had children and other families along, so we didn't get past the first "chimney." I'm calling it that because I heard someone else call this enormous rock obstacle by that name. It requires that you walk through a pool of water and enter the crevice at the bottom of a pile of boulders and pull yourself up to the next elevation. It proved to be too much a challenge this time with kids in tow. So this trip was only about two and a half hours long.

After our hiking excursion we had a special birthday dinner at a new restaurant in Loreto: La Mision. It is at the new hotel on the Malecon. Though the hotel is not yet finished, the restaurant is recently opened. We visited with the chef, Rodrigo, the day before about making our evening a special event. He was to prepare a special menu for us. What we got was unexpected. It was fabulous. We had course after course of wonderful appetizers and entrees. Crab cakes, shrimp, scallops, lamb, duck, tiramisu cake. Rodrigo kept it coming and it was muy rico. The wine list wasn't half bad for Loreto. We had Pinot Noir from Willamette Valley--something you'll not find anywhere in these parts. Dinner was so good we talked about all the next day comparing it to other wonderful dining experiences we've had elsewhere. It ranks high we decided.

Overall, it was one of the best days we've had here as a family.

What I got for Christmas

2008-12-26T22:52:00.006-07:00

Allie waits in the open window for her brothers to arrive for Christmas dinner. Robert carves a turkey in the kitchen eating as he goes. It was a really big turkey when I roasted it, but it dwindled before it reached the table. I managed corn bread stuffing, canned yams, mashed potatoes, caramelized onions and two pumpkin pies I purchased from Dali's. I had to do without seasonings I'm accustomed to back home, like sage. The variety of vegetables in Loreto has always been limited. If you're hoping for green peas, green beans, broccoli, Brussels sprouts --ha!--think again. You'd better love peppers and calabacitas (Mexican squash) or the occasional cucumber because that's about all the green you can count on here at the mercados. Many folks drive to Constitution or La Paz for better variety and selection. We didn't have the time or interest in that this year.

We feel lucky to be all together for Christmas. With all the weather-related problems with Alaska Air and the travel advisories in the Midwest it was fortunate Allie's brothers got here at all. Many folks headed this way were delayed for days as the airlines worked out their problems. Our sons had a close call on the connection in L.A. when Alaska Air twice changed it's departure time.

Our boys are staying in another house which works out better for all our comfort. Plus, our older brought his fiancee. They just got engaged last week. She thought he was gifting her with a laptop when he asked her to close her eyes and hold out her hands. She stood there palms up while he slyly slipped a ring on her finger. (I hope they don't get annoyed I just told you all that little detail.) They are young, but sure. We're happy for them and, of course, we adore her and feel honored she wants to be part of our family. She may be thinking only of our son, but I know the bigger picture. She's taking on all of us. She's going to be part of us. I think about this every time I look at her across the dinner table. This is a young girl that somebody else lovingly cared for and raised who one December day finds herself at dinner with another family announcing she'll be joining them --indefinitely.

I ruminate on every possible variation of this theme all evening long. That she loves our son is no mystery to me. That she's joining with us, adding to us, enhancing us--all willingly--is what mesmerizes me. How can she know the full extent of her choice? I certainly didn't at her age. I didn't put thought into what import I had to Robert's family. I didn't spend time considering how I impacted them; I was caught up in myself and Robert. Only now, years later, am I seeing the view from the other side. It keeps feeling like an honor. Beau has a found a lovely girl. Maybe they think it's all about them, but somehow I feel like I've been given a beautiful gift.

More Sprucing

2008-12-23T13:00:00.005-07:00

It is a particularly beautiful day here in Nopolo with sunny skies and warm temps. Sorry, all you States-stuck folks back home. We are hoping those of you scheduled to fly down this week will finally get through. With the weather-related problems in Seattle, all the Alaska Air flights are grounded, which means even though my sons could get to LAX no problem, the AA plane they need to catch may not be there. Their flights are for Thursday, Christmas Day, so hopefully things may turn for the better by then.

In the meantime, I'm still "sprucing" my house for their arrival. We finally hired landscapers to finish our terrace. Today they brought in large potted ficus trees to set on the southwest side of the patio where we get a lot of afternoon sun. Later, they'll bring bougainvillea and set up trellises for them to climb creating a nice shade barrier. EcoScapes is no longer in business, so it is now Vivero that we deal with. At least I think that is the name.

Sprucing

2008-12-20T21:36:00.004-07:00

I've been working to get our house in a holiday spirit. I would have loved some evergreen, but that is impossible to find here. So, I improvised. I snipped a few branches from a soft bark tree by the arroyo and Robert helped me bend and tie into a wreath form. Then I added large seed pods (Catalpa, I think) and some sprigs from the enormous ficus tree out front our house.

Robert, with the help of Roch, who was visiting, hoisted the wooden bench over the terrace wall and I pulled some pots down. Finally, some color to our otherwise plain white wall.

Now, what to do about the view from the door to the alley?

Poco a poco

2008-12-17T23:01:00.006-07:00

I made an effort to wake early today. It is true that Loreto is most beautiful in the morning. The early sunlight washes slowly over the mountains warming each range one by one. It is a study in contrast. By mid-day the sunlight fuses everything together into more bland hues.

This first photo is the view from my tower across the Paseo to the northwest. The following are shots of the Paseo under construction. The lane that leads to the Inn is currently being prepared for asphalt. It is certainly encouraging to see the progress take shape. I don't have any information on the schedule or plans for each aspect of the community, but there is an apparent sense of order that seemed lacking previously. I did inquire about the landscaping in progress in Founder's Neighborhood and learned that each cluster is being done or redone to higher standards starting closest to the Inn and working north. Lucky for us, they have started working in our alley planting giant palms. They will get done as much as they can before breaking at December 22. In January they will come back and re-do our paver pathways.

The weather has turned a little cool and overcast. I thought it would rain today, but no. That there is no wind is an asset as it would certainly be whipping up the dirt in the raw street.
I've been here previous winters where the wind mixed with the construction made for miserable times. We've been here one week already and it has been so pleasant. Poco a poco, little by little, Loreto Bay moves forward.

Hello, neighbor

2008-12-14T22:00:00.007-07:00

With the house now in order we venture out to see the progress in the neighborhood. The Paseo is torn up in preparation for a new and improved major boulevard. Landscaping and hardscaping in the clusters closest to the Inn are impressive. The road to the back entrance looks best. Rock paver sidewalks meander alongside palms directing your eye to the beautiful mountainside. The hurricane season left the terrain lush and greener than we have ever seen.

Robert's bike had a flat so we went on search for a tire pump, not a hard item to find since everyone here seems to own a bicycle. Our friend, John Ford was glad to oblige not only with the pump but with a double-shot iced coffee. He has a commercial grade coffee maker as well as a roaster and treats everyone to what has to be Loreto Bay's freshest, most delicious coffee. Did I mention he and his family hail from Seattle? Another interesting fact: Because this is Baja climate and not the rainy northwest, John and his kids prefer to sleep under a tent on the terrace every night--just because they can.

While visiting John, our other good friend, Doug Brown showed up on his bike and we had an impromptu alley chat. All of us have young children very close in age. Like us, the Brown's and Ford's are living here for an indefinite period of time. We all have businesses or professions that allow us to work and play outside of the U.S. Having just one or two other families like ourselves makes such a difference in our happiness here in LB. I imagine our experiences are similar to a small community in the 1950's U.S., where neighbors had to rely on each other. We came to town honoring a few requests for provisions like garden hoses and baking goods. In return, we are showered with neighborly gestures of invites for dinner and recreation. The kids ride their bikes all through the neighborhood exploring and we know they are safe. I like that so much.

Still Cleaning

2008-12-13T19:59:00.004-07:00

I can't enjoy Loreto living until my house is in order. And everyone must help. Robert has already hung, drilled, cleaned, moved, repaired from a list longer than his tired arm. SO, that's why you see me power washing his golf clubs. His idea to bring the power washer was a brilliant act of spousal manipulation. He had to know I'd seize it like an addict and let loose my latent OCD tendencies toward grime. I love stripping dirt from my stuff. Water conservation be dammed--I will have the cleanest terrace in Loreto Bay.

I started at the top--the tower and worked down. Walls, furniture, and all. Really though, the power washer probably uses less water than a hose. It is certainly efficient on stucco and cement.

My other favorite tool is the vacuum. I brought a new one down here. Previously, I believed I didn't need one since all our floors are tile. But, I was wrong. It's the attachments--those things that hang on your vacuum that you may never use--that are a bonus here. With the vacuum hose I went over every plaster baseboard and window-sill, under every bed, over every window shade.

So if I would recommend any two tools that one might overlook in the necessities of Loreto Living the power-washer and the vacuum are definite contenders.

Getting our house in order

2008-12-12T20:27:00.002-07:00

Our casa has been unoccupied (except for a couple of family/friends visits) for six months. So if it seems I'm overly focused on cleaning, well, I am.
In my estimate, all the bedding and towels needed laundering and every surface of the house wiped and sanitized, or vinegarized as it seems we had some moisture built up downstairs. An irrigation sprayer to the courtyard was broken and throwing water under the door to the bathroom closet inside. (We have a huge closet instead of a bathtub--an option I don't know exists anymore with the casa chicas.) Why property management overlooked this little dysfunction puzzled us greatly and increasingly infuriated me as I took to the task of emptying every item in the closet and either wiping, soaking or washing it with vinegar. Later, I realized that property management did not have a key to our closet, so how would they know the problem--UNLESS THEY SMELLED IT! The secret to being satisfied with property management is to actually live here! Now that we're here, any request we have is met with immediate response. Within one day we had our leaky kitchen faucet and downstairs toilet repaired. Road Nine showed up in minutes to repair the Internet wiring. It's hard to stay mad when they try so hard.

Well, now that that task is behind me I am over it. On to other stuff. Our larger bedding can't fit into our washing machine so we had to locate a laundromat in Loreto. We found one just by driving up and down streets till we came across this rather promising one on Calle Independencia. ( If traveling north on Jaurez take a left at the four way stop which is Independencia and go down a few blocks; it's on the right) We dropped off a king bedspread, blanket and dust ruffle. The manager charged us 360 pesos. No bargain, but we got clean bedding folded and wrapped.

Back to our Other Life

2008-12-11T23:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, finally back on the road after all these months back home in the states. This is Robert's fourth time (my second) driving the long Transpeninsular Highway 600 miles to the sleepy Baja town of Loreto--more accurately, to Nopolo, home to the Loreto Bay development. This time we pulled a 12-foot long cargo trailer stuffed with supplies. We brought a new, more comfortable sofa and leather chair, another television, kitchen appliances, etc. etc. I even tossed in a frozen turkey. On our first haul back in 2005, I remember being terrified at crossing the border. I had all our paperwork in order and worried over getting busted for bringing over perishable foods. We breezed right through never having to stop for inspection only to learn later that we needed to check in with immigration in Loreto to get our tourist visas.

The essence of familiarity is ease, in so each consequent trip down we grow nonchalant, even cavalier, over the border crossing event. Once again, this episode was uneventful. We crossed the border at Tijuana at 7:30 am on Sunday morning without any wait whatsoever and incredibly, if not foolishly, drove the entire trip in one day arriving in Loreto Bay at 1:00 am. We would never recommend anyone to do that, but we, or Robert rather, felt up to the challenge. I think after the long preparations and delays we were very anxious to return to our other life--to Loreto.

We fell into our beds and slept till noon the following day.

Current status

2008-09-30T02:23:00.002-06:00

Any souls checking in here must know that I have been MIA. I tired a little of narrating our lives' adventures and took a long break. We left Loreto Bay in May. After spending the summer back home reacquainting with friends, business, and family, we are geared to head back to LB in mid- November for another go-around, probably till next June.

Sometime around then I'll pick up where I left off. If anyone cares to follow, great. If not, I don't mind talking to myself. :)

Just your normal day in Loreto

2008-04-21T17:03:00.003-06:00

If I start writing about Loreto Bay now as we are about to leave I know I'll disappoint any one bothering to read. However, it is hard not to post when every day something unusual or interesting (to me) happens.

I did put together a little video of a day boating on the Sea of Cortez where we encountered a lot of dolphins. There's nothing more fun than being chased, and chasing, a group of frolicking porpoises.

The video is under "my videos from the road" in the sidebar.

I'm not too far gone, yet

2008-04-14T17:27:00.004-06:00

I thought I'd check back in for just a bit. I notice that people still check in on me. Sorry to disappoint. We spent a few months at home regrouping. Robert had some tests and is back on track. His health is good. We are currently in our second home in Loreto Bay enjoying the great weather. I've been here over two months and feel like I should have been writing about it, but I'm afraid to get started blogging about travel and living in Loreto if we are soon to end it by going home.

However, we aren't so sure we will end it. We still want to travel. We talk daily about what places we'd like to visit. We're saying crazy things like, "I wonder what it's like to live in Croatia?" and, "Do you think Buenos Aires is still a bargain?" "Wonder if we could ship the Airstream overseas?"

IF we do something crazy you know I'll be back blogging about it. I hate to ask anyone to stay tuned---but you never know.

Time to say goodbye

2008-01-27T14:24:00.000-07:00

I won't be posting for awhile. In fact, I think this blog has found it's end. It's been two years of writing about living in Loreto and then some time on the road in the U.S., but plans have changed and I'm not sure anymore where we'll be and the blog has lost its intended purpose of sharing insights about new places and people. Maybe another time in the future.

Thank you to everyone who has followed along. I hope you found inspiration, or at least some entertainment along the way.

kelli

Where have I been?

2008-01-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

I don't think I'll be posting for awhile. Our travel plans are at a standstill while Robert takes care of health issues (his heart.) He's pursuing a treatment that may keep us stationary for several weeks, maybe two months, so trolling around in our Airstream will have to wait. And travel to our house in Loreto Bay is out as well. So, my blog theme of travel has hit a bump in the road. Maybe I need to shift the theme to heart care issues.

We'll see. But for now I can't focus too well on much else. Check back with me sometime later. And wish Robert good luck. If you remember it was his heart attack in 2005 that prompted all this travel. I don't think he's lost the desire for it, but for now it has to wait.

Airstream Storytelling

2007-12-17T21:13:00.000-07:00

It's our turn to be the interesting party guests. While everyone else our age has been busy at work this year, we've been on a leisurely land cruise through North America pulling that great mid-century icon of American adventure and wanderlust--an Airstream trailer. That's a story that piques everyone's interest. Quitting work before age 50 to travel America with a grade-school daughter: How do you do that? People hardly know where to begin with their questions. Generally, the questions fall into the categories of:

1. How can you afford to do this?
2. What's it like living/traveling in a trailer?
3. How do you school Allison?
4. What have you seen so far?
5. How long do you plan to do this?

They want to know everything: the how, why, and where. I realize in my answers that the whole adventure is not a complicated thing. Everyone seems to have a sense for what it means. Almost everyone has taken a road trip. Almost everyone has experienced the thrill of a summer excursion to a national park or beautiful place in the U.S. All we are doing is taking a full immersion into the experience. We are on an extended road trip, one that is awesome because we don't have a deadline. It's not us that is interesting--it is the adventure. We are just the characters in a story that any listener can easily replace with themselves. Seeing America by road is an easy dream to comprehend.

In a way our adventure is so American, so democratic, that I feel compelled to share, especially when the interest from others is so sincere. I believe a recounting of a safari in Kenya or rafting down the Amazon couldn't draw the sincere and absolute fascination people exhibit when listening to our kind of story. We are sharing something so uniquely American and so guaranteed to elicit nostalgia or childhood memories that we feel like preservers of an American cultural ritual. And that's just the road trip aspect. The other is the Airstream factor. I've never met a person yet who didn't think Airstreams are just super cool.

I've enjoyed a holiday season homecoming. We're home at the right time to gather with friends for dinners or parties. We had two social occasions in two nights. I spoke so much that l lost my voice. Apparently, I haven't used it that much on the road. Now I was suddenly called to report on a version of: "How I spent my summer vacation." Instead of being the kid who had to go to summer school I'm the kid who got to see Mt. Rushmore, Buffalo Bill's wild west, the Canadian Rockies, the California coast. I rode ferries in Puget Sound, picked pumpkins in Oregon, hiked the mountains and redwoods of California.

It's a story I like telling.

To be or not to be Green

2007-12-05T22:12:00.000-07:00

I'm back to dreaming of building our dream house. I always do this when I get planted here at home. Why? Because I have never been satisfied with our old house yet I have never seen one other new one (in our town, in our price range) in that I would prefer. The sad fact is that today's homes are devoid of true character. I understand all the economical reasons for the blandness, but it grates on me nevertheless. I do not want a trophy home or anything remotely resembling the horrible things being built today. I want a smart home that blends with its environment, uses resources wisely, and has subtle understated style. No packaged theme, no faux finishes, no stamped concrete, no granite countertops, no wall of windows. No cathedral ceilings, no walk-out basement, no 3-car front entry garage, no wasted space.

I've wanted a smart "sustainable" house long before the term became vogue. Now I am afraid "sustainable" will be another fraud--becoming a design style term with no substance after developers catch on to it. Eco, green, and sustainable are the new catch phrases. Intentions may be good. I am happy to see all the attention on rethinking our homebuilding. We all want to be conscious of our carbon footprint, our impact on the earth. I just hope developers and builders will embrace this revolution honestly. For me, however, the time is not right for us to take the leap. To be pioneers in this movement requires lots of research, effort, and money. Building green is not cheap, not yet.

Our home is a sprawling California-style ranch circa 1970. For all it's flaws I think it's still heads up over the split-ranch and still later contemporary Tudor and Mediterranean styles with their monster ceilings and interior columns. At least a ranch has correct proportions. Our house suffers innocently from obsolescence. It could benefit from advances made in heating and cooling, especially. My new house would practically be off the grid and real. No pretense.

But since it is our home of the last 15 years and since it is no strain on our finances we keep it. We improve where we can. It's like the gas guzzler vehicle you may own. You weigh a new car payment against the rising fuel costs and decide for yourself which is worse. I read something interesting today in Dwell (Dec/Jan) magazine. For the most part Dwell and literature like it sickens me with it's pretentiousness and often god awful love of ugly-ass architecture. But an article, "On the Level," struck a chord. It discusses the renovation of the sweetheart of postwar suburbia, the split-level house. Most people agree they are ugly, but they occupy en masse the older neighborhoods that are becoming attractive to buyers. What's a design aesthete to do but make the necessity of economy suddenly chic? It's becoming cool to look at the split-level as worth saving. They are relics of a particular period in American housing history built quickly and affordable for the middle-class. According to architect Peter Cardew, they have a cultural value worth preserving. He advocates saving the lowly split-level and in this one statement he makes a stunning argument regarding sustainability: "When people talk about sustainability, they are usually referring to a new architecture, but when you figure that most of the energy that goes into a building comes from the one-time act of construction, you are already ahead when you can keep a building rather than demolish it."

Right. Hadn't really thought about it that way. For us to go green we would eat up more energy and resources than if we stayed put in our obsolete mid-century home. That is news Robert will love to hear since he's never been interested much in my new house-lusting daydreams. Foiled again.

Made in America

2007-12-01T22:22:00.000-07:00

I pulled our Christmas tree up from the basement tonight. It's plastic but surprisingly real-looking and it was incredibly cheap two years ago when I grudgingly made the jump from real to fake. Naturally, it was made in China. Those Chinese are great with fake floral goods. The truth is a lot of good stuff comes out of China and it is always dirt cheap.

This new Hallmark ornament is also made in China. However, the actual Airstreams are made in America--in Jackson, Ohio. Probably every ornament on my tree is made in China. The Chinese must love Christmas, but not this Christmas. They must be in a panic with the exposure and recall of their lead poisoned toys. Nobody's buying toys made in China. I say, good. I hate toys anyway. My kids always had too many. I don't know where half of them came from. But once a year I found myself cleaning my house of Rubbermaid containers full of stupid plastic toys, most complements of McDonald's Happy Meals. About the time Allison came around I had made a habit of requesting the toy be omitted from the Happy Meal much to her disgruntlement. (Interestingly, McNuggets eventually lost their appeal to her appetite.) I say buy kids books for Christmas. They still make books in America don't they?

Abby gets a rest

2007-11-29T00:40:00.000-07:00

We cleared our things out of Airstream Abby in preparation for storage. Our plan is to fly home for the month of December then return to Phoenix to resume our year-long journey.

We started by removing all the perishables, but soon it was all things valuable and the project turned into an all morning affair. I am the more trusting of us two: I say leave it all. Robert emptied every little thing down to the bottle of aspirin. Now all our trailer possessions are in my mom's garage closets.
I guess I'll be leaving my shorts too, since it is winter back in Missouri.

My sister's boyfriend took this photo of Robert and me just minutes before he and Robert drove it away. It will be the last I see of our Airstream for awhile. The parting is temporary so I have no troubled feelings about it. I'll be happy to go home to my sprawling suburban house and I'll be just as happy to return to my compact streamlined habitat. It's all good.

There's no place like mom's home

2007-11-27T23:30:00.000-07:00

As it turned out, we did end up courtesy parking at our friends' rented house in Indian Wells--but only for a day. Some official-looking person came knocking at the door to inform us we had to move our trailer immediately. No big surprise. We knew we were pushing our luck. However, we enjoyed our time at David and Sheri's.

My quick impression of the Indian Wells/Palm Desert area was favorable. It is clean and modern and, of course, the weather was perfect. Robert got to play some golf with David and another friend, Ted, from back home who lives here in winter. We girls shopped along the trendy stores of the El Paseo as well as the weekend Street Fair. I took some long walks around the neighborhood taking in the wonderful Palm Springs residential architecture.

This morning we left for Mesa, Arizona to visit my mother and sister. We've decided to store the Airstream and Tahoe here while we fly home for a few weeks. My mother met us at the door and ushered us straight to dinner. Her table was set for company with water goblets and linen napkins. Her house was spotless and glowing, all for us. My sister rushed over from her boyfriend's house (he lives across the street) and even the new dog my mother rescued seemed happy to see us.

As everyone settled in I wandered the house looking at photos and trinkets and other reminders of family. Photos of me, Robert, our children are everywhere in that tiny house. To her, we are the most important people on the earth. Hadn't I noticed that before? I took that thought with me into her laundry room where I unloaded our dirty clothes. Without the vague sense of indebtedness that accompanies using someone else's washing machine I piled our clothes into hers. I thought about the comfort and relief there is in this guiltless access. In my mother's home I don't think twice about rummaging the refrigerator or plopping on the sofa. I am treated like a guest without having to behave like one. After four months on the road this a good feeling.

I dumped in the liquid detergent and dropped the lid on the machine. As the tub filled with rushing water I thought about my skills at observation. For the past two years I've documented the world around me. I've dissected every little thing and then put it back together in some clever and compact narrative. I'm busy writing about the interesting people and places we're meeting on our journey. I write about how I feel about those things. Now here, in my mother's closet-sized laundry room I see something I'd not noticed before: my mother also documents my life. And in doing so she validates my life in a way nothing and no one else can. That, too, is a good feeling.

Ralph and Abby Get a Bath

2007-11-24T23:50:00.000-07:00

This was the best truck wash ever. It's next door to the Flying J truck stop on Ramon Road in Thousand Palms.

For $45 bucks this crew scrubbed down our Tahoe and Airstream. Money well spent considering whenever we try to wash them at a self-serve wash we go through half as much in quarters. Then later, we discover how bad a job we did. Abby is streaky and Ralph's lower panels are still grimy. Plus, my shoes and pant legs are soaked and my fingers numb from the cold water.

More Malibu Fires

2007-11-24T23:25:00.000-07:00

The drive from Santa Barbara to Palm Springs was uneventful except for this. On the 101 South right around the Mulholland Drive Exit we could see this billowing smoke on the mountainside. It was around 2:00 p.m. I took this picture out the window of our car.

Another Malibu fire. This one causing the evacuation of 20,000 persons. It started in the Corral Canyon today and quickly spread. As of late tonight it was only 25% contained. This is the first time we've seen an active fire. The big fire in Ketchum, Idaho occurred just days before we arrived in late August. We only witnessed the re-opening of the area to a very grateful and saved public. Southern California has suffered greatly and repeatedly from these fires this year. We altered our plans early on to avoid the L.A. and San Diego regions because of the threat of fires.

Our friends, Rich and Eleanor have their Airstream stored somewhere in that area as they travel to Hawaii. Since their Airstream is their full-time home we certainly hope for the best.

I'm sure the neighbors will miss us

2007-11-24T10:23:00.001-07:00

Pack it up and move it out. We are leaving the sweet bliss of Julie and Pete's house for the great unknown--some RV or state park in Palm Springs. I'm thinking San Jacinto State Park might be a possibility. However, we may hook up with our new friends we met in San Simeon who are in Indian Wells right now. They have the 66 Tradewind Airstream and have rented a home in Indian Wells for a month. We could end up parked in front out another home again, just like here at Julie's.

We did no site-seeing at all while in Santa Barbara (unless you count shopping in old town Santa Barbara.) Most of the time our Tahoe was at the dealer's getting maintenance done. We also had a problem with the pin in the receiver hitch wearing down and had to get a replacement part delivered. We don't know why exactly the pin was doing that, but Robert felt it important to fix it. Probably a good idea, hey?

Now we are good to go. Time to get back into compact mode. We've been spoiled by the space and luxuries of a house and now we have to reign it in again and get lean. After Julie and Pete left for Merced, we sort of migrated to the house. We mastered the television remote, the dishwasher, the washing machine, the slippery temperature knob on the oven. I even located the circuit box when we blew a fuse. I know where Julie keeps her tin foil and Tupperware lids. I know which light switches work for which lights. The homemaker in me was arising from deep sleep. It's like riding a bike.

One by one, items from the trailer found their way into the house. We'll probably forget a bunch of stuff. We were here longer than expected. I might have worried that our Airstream in the street would perturb neighbors, but there are other RVs parked throughout the neighborhood. At least ours is pretty to look at. It has been nice to wake up to perfect warm weather every day, but where we're going there will be more of it. From there we head to Phoenix. And then we fly home for about a month for the holidays.

Thanksgiving style

2007-11-22T23:16:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving this year is particularly odd for us. We are spending it alone in Julie and Pete's in Santa Barbara. We stopped in to visit them, but Thanksgiving plans sent them off to Merced to Julie's mother's house. We had one day together before they left, just enough time to get a happy dose of their little family. Three boys under 5 years old, and all of them adorable and amenable to hugs and affection. I got to carry a baby on my hip again

Julie is the sister of our ex-brother-in-law. Obviously, we all still consider ourselves family. We could have tagged along to Julie's mom's, but that would be serious backtracking and we want to keep moving south. We've planted ourselves here a few days while our Tahoe gets some maintenance done at a local Chevy dealer. I must admit it is so nice to have some space to spread out. Julie and Pete literally turned over their house to us and we're making good use of it--especially the kitchen. Robert and I prepared a fairly complete Thanksgiving meal substituting turkey cutlets for a whole turkey. I made the usual sides and we sat down to a beautiful meal. (Julie, please don't be horrified that I hung a basket on your little stray lamp that I found near the piano. I needed a little light, it needed a little lampshade. BYW, I've left you a little surprise in the freezer--homemade pomegranate gelato.)

We've seen little of Santa Barbara. Instead, we behave like we're at home in the neighborhood, walking Guinness, the family dog, and escorting Allison on a borrowed bicycle to a school playground. The weather is perfect every day--almost enough to make you buy into why dumpy houses sell for a million dollars. Honestly, what goes for a million here is astonishing and makes our modest house back home the bargain of the century. We ask ourselves, "how can working people afford this?" but somehow they do, only they can't seem to afford repair or upkeep. I have a theory that the homes that are in best shape are owned by the older neighbors who aren't saddled with mortgage payments. They can afford to maintain their homes. The California real estate game is an animal I do not understand. It's like watching someone stack blocks as fast and as high as possible. Your senses tell you the thing will fall, but with California we all keep watching it go higher and higher.

Maybe that is changing. Supposedly, the bubble is or has crashed--I don't know, I can't keep up with everything, and to figure it out would take more hours out of my life than I care to give. All I know that back home in Missouri if there was a bubble I didn't see it. The outdated home we bought 15 years ago hasn't appreciated all that much, (which gnaws at me when I hear of the big bucks "everyone else" is making), nor has our neighbors'. However, our neighborhood is in good shape and stable. Good old Midwestern stability: Boring, but steady. Now, pass the potatoes, please.

Life in the Canyon

2007-11-20T21:51:00.000-07:00

This neglected Airstream belongs to my dear friend, Denise, and sits on her acreage in the canyons outside Arroyo Grande. It has served them well, first as the "wagon" that took them to their new life in Montana years ago and now to California where they raise their four sons in a remote rural setting. I try to convince Denise that she should renovate this 1966 cutie into a studio or guest apartment, but she looks at me like I'm crazy--she's had enough renovation projects in her life. And where would she find the time? So it sits like a pretty piece of yard art and maybe a reminder of their strenuous migrations from Missouri, to ranch life in Montana, to rural life on the outskirts of wine country on the central California coast.

The weather is near perfect 365 days a year. Of all the places we've been so far, I could see Robert's radar turning. He really liked the area. Mark took us on a little tour that included San Luis Obispo and a stop at the Tally vineyards. San Luis, or Slow-town, is just right. Not too big, just enough culture (the home of Cal-Poly,) and again, perfect climate. I caught Robert looking online at real estate later, so that says something. Allison loved that she got to feed the horses which amounted to Mark driving the pick-up down the drive and letting the kids divide a bale of hay among them.

Besides all of that, it was especially nice to reunite with an old friend. Denise and I were college room-mates. We both married young and had a handful of kids. And from what our men say, we are still the loves of their lives. Oh, yes, and that they married up and don't deserve us. We're both still falling for it, apparently. Robert and Mark hit it off well. They did not know each other in college, but had lots of mutual friends. They're pretty good guys.

It looks like a pretty nice life to me. They remodeled an old ranch home, added a swimming pool and a top-notch outdoor kitchen. Old red oaks stand in the yard and their horses ramble freely on their acreage along with the deer and Arnold, the English bull terrier. The nearest neighboring property belongs to a Boy Scout Camp. The winding road to the village of Arroyo Grande is dotted with orchards and wineries. Denise works part time in a cute store in the village to provide her a "girly fix." I'm not sure how to categorize Mark's work except that it affords him the freedom to wear flip-flops instead of dress loafers everyday. He invests in property. I'd say he has the knack.

Our time was short. They have busy lives with four school-aged boys. Plus, with the Thanksgiving holiday approaching they had family visiting. We came in like a whirlwind and left two days later on the road to our next stop--Santa Barbara.

My other Airstream is a Dune Buggy

2007-11-19T23:31:00.001-07:00

We tried to do as Rich and Eleanor did-- camp on the beach at Pismo State Beach, one of the rare places in America where you can pull your rig right onto the oceanfront. We were not successful. We should have heeded the wary looks from the park attendant when we paid our ten dollars admittance and insisted we could manage just fine. After all, Rich and Eleanor pulled their Airstream right up on the sand and they made it look fun.

We, however, met with some challenges I don't think they encountered. First of all, we arrived on a Saturday. Once we hit the sand we immediately saw what was hidden from view at the entrance: hundreds, maybe thousands of helmeted people on ATV's. The place was like a raceway with no boundaries: Road toys zipping to and fro between 4WD vehicles and RV's; little nylon tents dotting the sand behind the "roadway" and the dunes; people strolling on the surf's edge. Everywhere a dangerous collision lurked. We had no opportunity to make a U-turn out of there. Our best move was to keep our speed up and keep moving before we got stuck in the sand. We were told the campground was two miles down the beach, but would we make it?

No. A mile down we hit a patch of deep dry sand and came to a halt. Robert and I looked at each other and grimaced. Now what? The wind was beating sand against the windows. The last thing I wanted to do was to get outside, but I did in a vain attempt to access our situation. Within moments we had help--a man began instructing Robert to deflate the air in all the tires. I let them have at it and jumped back into the car to get out of the blowing sand. Amazingly, the trick worked. We popped right out. Robert's new friend encouraged us to stay. He said, "You're fine now, just pull in down there between that group of RV's" Robert hesitated to say no after all the man's help, but I was poking him to get a move on. I wanted no part of this mayhem.

We graciously thanked him, waited for the brief moment when we could clear a U-turn and gunned it out of there. Once we hit pavement we nervously searched out a place to get air for the tires. And once we were put back together we pulled our sand-beaten selves to the county park into a pull-through with hook-ups and called it a day. We laughed about what silly rookies we were and for the next few hours I would occasionally bite down on a grain on sand.

Sometime in the night our Airstream began to shake and rumble. A passing train roared down tracks unnoticed by us when we chose our spot. It was one of many. But I felt as long as it didn't jump its tracks and tumble down on us we were certainly safer than down on that beach where some combustion driven toy, big or little, might easily run us down.

Those Lucky Hearsts

2007-11-16T19:08:00.001-07:00

Hearst Castle is just minutes up the road from our campground in San Simeon. We've seen the castle once before, years ago, but we wanted Allison to have a look. Some things have changed, namely the visitors center is renovated. Now there is an IMAX movie included in the tour. It does a very good job of romanticizing Hearst and his times. No mention of Yellow Journalism or Citizen Kane. It gives appropriate credit to the great architect, Julie Morgan, an individual worthy of her own showcasing. Has there been a movie made about her, I wonder?

The buildings and grounds are truly impressive though nothing like the great medieval castles of Europe. Hearst Castle has it's own style, mostly called Mediterranean Revival. Allison actually seemed a bit disappointed: was she expecting something along the lines of Disneyland? What I love most are the cottages with their dark, cozy rooms overlooking the Pacific.

The setting of Hearst Castle is what impresses me. What a commanding view. Hearst's daddy bought up all the land farther than the eye can see. I think something along the lines of 300 square miles worth. I can't even imagine what that must have felt like to make that big of a land purchase on the California coast. George Hearst was one lucky man. His enormous wealth came from gold and silver mining ventures in California.

I would have liked to live in that era at the turn of the 20th century. Newcomers to California and other points west must have lived in a perpetual state of exhilaration at all the abundance and promise the territory held. Of course, I would have preferred to be in the lucky camp--the ones who made it big in mining, ranching, farming, etc, like good old George Hearst.

Road Schooling

2007-11-16T01:24:00.001-07:00

Every few nights Robert and I discuss our directions. Where will we go next and when? Overall, I've had the biggest say in these decisions partly because it requires research and that is not his job. His responsibility is to the transport and delivery of trailer and precious cargo. We never sat down and discussed this, we just naturally fell into the jobs we were suited for.

Just like our marriage. We never sat down and laid out the process of how it was going to work. Somehow, we knew where to jump in. We tended to delegate responsibilities in full to one another without a lot of negotiating. Tasks were determined along gender lines, no doubt, but for the most part that seemed reasonable. He made the living; I ran the household with little interference. I didn't want to see Robert doing laundry no more than he cared to see me carry firewood. It worked for us.

So we carry the same process on the road. However, there are some things that simply don't transfer. First, the household, my domain, is now a travel trailer. Not much house management to do. In fact, most of the concerns are mechanical and therefore fall to Robert. Second, and most impacting, is that my charge over travel planning is akin to his usual job of being at the helm of our lives. I'm steering the ship, so to speak, and although he is literally in the driver's seat I am calling the plays, especially lately as we travel through my home state of California. He's unfamiliar with most of it and is therefore even more at my mercy. I know he likes the ocean so I aim for that. But what he really likes is boating and cronies to play with, a little television, and a lot of space to relax. The cramped space of the Airstream bothers him more than I.

One thing I've learned on this journey is this: I feel more responsibility to his happiness. I think he's always worried more about mine. And now I know why--he was the one leading--the one to take the blame if we should fall. Surely, a little trip in a trailer does not equal the trials and burdens of a 24-year marriage, but little insights are quick to grasp if you're willing to be schooled.

If I could pick my neighbors

2007-11-15T19:24:00.000-07:00

We are happy campers here at San Simeon State Park. The weather is perfect and apparently warmer than usual. Yesterday, we walked from the campground to the town of Cambria. We started on the beach but soon found that route too disgusting because of the massive amounts of flies swarming the beached sea kelp. Maybe it's a seasonal event, I don't know, but it was nasty.

However, further down on the beach near Cambria, the ocean was more hospitable to humans, especially the kind in wetsuits. We sat on a bench on the boardwalk and watched the surfers--and fed the squirrels. Funny to see squirrels on the beach, but these were awfully tame and beggarly.
Cambria is a cute beach town and amazingly small. It could be Santa Cruz 50 years ago. There are dozens of unique shops and restaurants (no franchised eateries that I could tell.) Secretly, I was wishing to dump Robert and Allie so I could shop at my leisure. Actually, I don't shop leisurely, I sort of speed-shop. I'm feeling due since on this trip I have bought nearly nothing. "Where would that fit in the trailer?" usually stops me.

Oprah has a segment this week on people who are hoarders, basically women who buy, buy, buy and then live floor-to-ceiling with their hoarded goods. I watch that stuff and gasp. What is wrong with that woman? Her rebuttal is that everything she buys is clearance or deeply discounted. If she has 42 umbrellas it's because she got them on sale. Pshaw! My particular purchasing style may not have any better logic but here it is: I rarely care what something cost (as long as it is within my means) if it only passes my one criteria: DO I LOVE IT? If it's a bit pricey I justify it with my time and labor. How much time did it take me to find this item? Since I am such a particular shopper I usually end up with nothing. But when I do.....

"How much did that cost?" Robert asks and I always snap back, "Well, do you like it? Do you like your new stainless coffee percolator? Yes, I could have bought a cheap french press, but then you'd have cold coffee after I'd hogged the first steamy cup." You'd think by now he'd buried that question, but he can't help himself. But, he knows one thing--anything I buy will be around in in use for our lifetimes. So that's how I justify my arrogant shopping style.

After a few hours wandering around we headed back to our campground. By now we were very tired. We'd started out with big ambition--now we were groaning about the 3-mile walk back. But on we went and by the time we reached the park entrance the sun was setting. It is not often we get to see the sun set into the Pacific. I think often about the trekking Allison does with us. Is it asking too much of an 8 year old to take these hikes and long walks? Interesting, she really doesn't complain, and she has never mutinied on us. She enjoys what we enjoy and that is a blessing born out of conditioning. I've been making that kid walk since she outgrew the stroller. One day when her kids complain about anything, she can say. "Well, when I was a kid, my parents made me hike mountain paths with names like, Damnation Trail. And we'd walk 8 miles in one day!"

Our new friends, Dave and Sheri, (with the 66 Airstream Tradewind) came over for dinner again. We pool our resources to come up with some pretty satisfying trailer cuisine. I was happy to have their company. I'm learning that it's easy to make friends on the road and often the friends you meet are ones you'd like to keep. The fact that you are traveling in the same manner opens the door for mutual appreciation. Now, if I could just gather all these acquaintances up in one place, I'd have one great neighborhood.

Is That Your Airstream?

2007-11-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

I like to mix it up a little--a few nights camping followed by a night or two in RV luxury where I can catch up on laundry and get my fill of obnoxious cable news programming.

Talk about one extreme to the other: From the rustic campground of Yosemite we moved to a resort-like RV park in Paso Robles near the coast. For a pricey $46.50 a night we got a level piece of concrete complete with full hook-ups, cable, and amenities galore. The grounds were immaculate as well as the pool and hot tub (which we actually used.) Our Airstream Abby, which to us is a luxury apartment, sat like a pipsqueak among the McMansion motor coaches that filled the park. There must have been $50 million dollars worth of polished luxury units out there. However, we were not alone: I counted three other Airstreams, including this 1966 mirror-finished Tradewind.

Like Airstreamers tend to do, we gravitated over to the owners of this rig. Or maybe, they wandered over to us first, but anyway we got friendly and now we find ourselves having dinner together in our new spot--the rustic bliss of San Simeon State Park.
Our new friends are a wonderful couple from Seattle. We knew them all of 20 minutes before deciding to reunite at San Simeon. That's the weirdness of "Club Airstream"--instant friendship based on owning a certain aluminum tube on wheels. No back-ground checks necessary.

Here at our new digs we pay $20 dollars a night. We get a semi-level space with no hook-ups, but a partial view of the Pacific Ocean, a mere short walk from our door. The park is quiet and practically empty. Now that the generator is off we can hear the surf pounding the shore. The little town of Cambria is a couple miles away so we will do some exploring tomorrow after we stroll the beach. It is such a wonderful spot. We are thinking we might stay here a few days.

What we saw of Paso Robles was very nice. There are something like 200 wineries in the vicinity, but we didn't visit one. Again, with an 8 year old in tow, it is difficult. Instead, we went to a spa where we dipped into a mineral tub (stunk like sulphur) and strolled the historic square downtown and ate Thai food at a place called Basil. We kept wondering why the buildings all looked so new and we learned that a recent earthquake resulted in a lot of rebuilding. We also wondered why a place so temperate in climate and so close to the ocean is not a sprawling metropolis, but I'm guessing it may have to do with lack of water, or the occasional smell of sulphur, or maybe it's actively quaking. I don't know, but it seems like a lovely place to live.

Me and John

2007-11-11T22:51:00.000-07:00

Twelve hours later and I am already dreaming of returning to Yosemite. I can't name one other spot on this trip that has the spiritual pull of that holy place. No surprise to me that John Muir became obsessive about it. There's no revelation he's proclaimed that I, too, would not have arrived at myself. So, that makes me a transcendentalist, like Mr. Muir. I always suspected so.

Muir wrote: I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown,
for going out, I found, was really going in.
Yeah, me too.

Where's the Bears?

2007-11-10T19:23:00.000-07:00

We awoke to another beautiful unseasonably mild morning in Yosemite, yet Rich and Eleanor had decided to leave for new adventures south. We could have tagged along, but we are enjoying Yosemite too much. We're sure we'll meet up again somewhere down the road soon.

Having another Airstreaming couple to hang with was certainly fun and educational. You can't help but bond with people who are similarly engaged in such a unique quest. The fact that they had a daughter Allison's age was a special bonus and made for a tug-of-war farewell this morning between the girls.

We managed to distract Allison with the pursuit of earning her Junior Ranger badge which she did. The rangers made a little show of it with Allison raising her right hand in pledge followed by a loud announcement to onlookers that there is a new ranger in town. Later, we took another ranger walk. The subject was bears, though good luck if you ever see one. The days when rangers actually fed local garbage to the bears as spectators crowded to watch are long gone. Again, born to late, missed all the fun. Now, conservation and protection are the norm and understandably so. We must protect the bears from us and us from the bears. Still, who wouldn't like to see a bear in Yosemite.

Tonight, I am again loitering at the Ahwahnee Lodge to tap into their internet connection. There is a big crowd tonight, a wedding party. I left Robert at "home" with a book I bought today: Death in Yosemite. I know he'll enjoy it for he likes the macabre--well, don't we all? The book documents the many sad outcomes of people who made wrong choices or were simply in the wrong place, wrong time and paid for it with their lives. There are numerous accounts of people going over cliffs and steep waterfalls in the pursuit of a better photograph. You know, "Honey, back up just a little.. a little more..." It happens more than you'd think.

It's dark now and generator hours are over so I'll be returning to a trailer lit by a Coleman lantern and probably a couple of candles. Robert's probably up to his eyeballs in scary tales of death. I should hurry home, but I'll make him wait a bit. He's quick to tease others, so I have to get my licks in when I can.

Yosemite: IMHO

2007-11-09T12:10:00.001-07:00

Wherever we go I'm always scouting out internet access. Doesn't matter how beautiful the spot; I have to know where I can get online. I waste a fair amount of time in this pursuit.
Sometimes it pisses me off how difficult it can be when it doesn't have to be. I believe too, that some people, i.e., park employees, get a smug satisfaction in my discomfort. I imagine they have a prejudice against "tourists," with laptops in tow, as if we were addicts unable to enjoy the brief disconnect from our habit.

My cellular service is out of range therefore my data card is useless. I must find wi-fi which is severely limited to the two hotels here in Yosemite. The Ahwahnee offers its wi-fi free (supposedly to guests only), but the Yosemite Lodge charges a fee and requires a passcode. But to purchase this service you must wait in the 20-deep line of guest registrants. If that is too much trouble, you can purchase time on one of two internet kiosks at $.25 cents a minute. Same at the cafe near the Visitor Center, though there are a few more there. No thanks.

I do understand the concept of intentional disconnect. People complain that they can't get away from their work, or all things tech, but some of us think we can do it all. God knows I can spend 10 hours in the great outdoors taking in the meaning of wilderness. I just want to not spend one more driving around the park, wasting resources and time, parking and trekking to the hotel interiors to get online. Especially after dinner, when the sky is so incredibly dark that driving is not recommended and you're likely to run over something. What would be so hard about friendly locations for wi-fi? I have some other recommendations for the powers that be in Yosemite, but I don't think anybody much would care to hear them.

The Ahwahnee Lodge is impressive in its architecture and setting. And no one frowns on me for plopping in front of the huge fireplace with my laptop or has yet to ask me if I am a guest. At $400 plus dollars a night, I'll pass. Again, I sound like a complainer, but the Lodge did not blow me away. It is very nice, but not as grand in atmosphere as I had expected, which makes staying in the campground in my Airstream a fine alternative. Someplace like the Biltmore in Arizona puts out a better, more awake, atmosphere. The Ahwahnee is stuffy and unattended. The dining hall is the best feature inside. We tried to have dinner here last night, but the hall was reserved for a vintners' party. Maybe a fun party to crash, but we'll wait and have lunch or coffee later.

Souvenirs

2007-11-08T23:17:00.000-07:00

I nixed the Ansel Adams photography walk in order to spend the day on a series of hikes with Rich and Eleanor. We all left the campsite around 10:00 am to drive to several points in Yosemite Park starting with Sentinel Dome. From there--Glacier Point, then Mariposa Grove. We didn't return to camp till after 6:00 pm. A long day, and a lot of driving, but worth the effort.

The views from Glacier Point were panoramic and dizzying. It overlooks the Yosemite valley some 3200 feet below. We could make out the little silver slivers that were our Airstreams deep in the pines below. Conditions for viewing weren't perfect even though it was a sunny day: There were some controlled forest fires that clouded the valley in a yellow smoke that made our photos kind of hazy.

The sequoias at Mariposa Grove were impressive though overall I wasn't as moved by them as the coastal redwoods. I like the wet, lush understory of the redwood groves. The perpetual foggy mist adds a mystery and ethereal quality I like. However, the sequoias are grand just for their immense size. The base of their trunks make me think of giant, gnarled elephant hooves.

Of course, I wanted to snatch up as many cones from the sugar pines as I could, but it is a no-no and it's hard to escape notice when you're lugging a 12-inch cone in your vest. I admit to getting away with one. Dammit, I want at least one. I hate kitchy gift shop souvenirs. I prefer my knick-knacks to be organic and found. Since there's no room for my stolen cone in the Airstream, I was thinking I'd mail it home. But, goodness, for all I know, that might be a felony or something.

Airstreaming in Yosemite

2007-11-07T23:39:00.000-07:00

Yosemite National Park. If we stayed one week it wouldn't be enough for me. I'm already anxious that I won't get the time or weather to explore all the sites and activities available. We are incredibly lucky that the weather is sunny and warm for our visit--the forecast being at least three days of sunshine and temps in the 70's. I awoke early today (an amazing feat for me) and brewed coffee the primitive way--on the stove since it was too early to crank up the generator. I showered and was pushing Robert out the door to take a long stroll through the village leaving Allison with the Luhr's.

We are in the Upper Pines campground alongside Rich and Eleanor. They arrived about an hour after we did yesterday. The girls are thrilled to be reunited. First thing we did was purchase the Junior Ranger program book and make plans for the ranger-led excursion through Cooks Meadow this afternoon. Ranger Eric was our guide (another lucky stroke.) He's a guy who really likes his job. He seemed as excited as the rest of us to spot a red-tailed hawk swoop through the meadow as well as the acorn woodpecker and five-point buck under the trees in the village.

I think I've been on my feet for 10 hours straight. Everyone is back at the campground but Rich and I who have found a spot in the Ahwahnee Lodge to get online and do our important work of informing everyone about how much fun we are having. Of course, the lodge is fabulously and rustically beautiful, but we've got our heads in our laptops. Tomorrow, Robert and I plan to have dinner here in the grand dining hall. That should top off another exhausting day of walking, gawking and ahhing at the beautiful sites. Also, since I've proven I can rise early, I plan to join in the Ansel Adams photography walk in the morning. I could sure use the photography tips since I'm not doing so well on my own. Maybe I'll have something wonderful to show for it tomorrow.

My people

2007-11-05T21:05:00.000-07:00

This is my 74-year-old Uncle Don, skydiving. His grandsons, Michael and Daniel gave him the gift of this major adrenaline rush for his birthday. He is way too cool. We spent the day at Don and Marilyn's home in Modesto getting a quick glimpse into their lives. I added another mark on my tally of "Isn't my family great?" Robert has to agree and, yes, Don and Marilyn have an Airstream too.

Along this trip we have made stops to visit members of the Hancock line (my mother's side)--a hearty bunch indeed and people to be proud of. We first visited Don and Marilyn's daughter, Christy and her boys in Seattle where Allie fell in love with Michael, the one who played with her in the park. Then, yesterday we stopped over in Folsom to say hello to Don's sister Rose and her daughter. Rose is 86 and going strong. I always tell Allison, "I want to be just like Aunt Rose when I get old." Now Allie sees why. Even she was smitten with her. Maybe it's her little girl giggle, or her china blue eyes, but everything about Rose is adorable.

I am so proud to show off my family to Robert and Allison. Especially to Allison for it gives her an idea of what she's made of. I only wish we all lived closer to be able to share our lives. There's so many of them out west--we've not seen even half of them yet. I'll keep my crew busy visiting them all--all the way into Arizona.

Trying to Get it Right

2007-11-04T23:34:00.000-07:00

I think it's goodbye to Oregon for good. We kept lingering there because we liked it so much. The Valley of the Rogue State Park was nice though we didn't do any site-seeing or hiking. We spent our time getting to know Eleanor and Rich and watching Allison play with Emma. They hit it off so well we hated to pull them apart, but a good weather forecast for Yosemite urges us forward. We broke camp yesterday. Rich and Eleanor headed to Chico to visit friends; we headed to Redding. I had a vague idea that we'd find a state park close to Turtle Bay, but my research was shoddy and we ended up on the road to Whiskeytown and closed campgrounds. "Mrs. Jeeps," our GPS voice guide, was little help. She was as lost as we were. What information I could find online was incomplete and confusing. I was looking for Brandy Creek campgrounds but could never find it and finally Robert, worn out and frustrated, pulled into the parking lot of the Oak Bottom Marina and called it a night.

I really stink as a navigator. I don't get everything lined up before we take off and then I scramble to put it together in route. Maybe I think I'll have plenty of time on the road to research our next destination. Or maybe I think we'll change our minds and then my research will be wasted. Something wants me to be flexible, but more often it causes lost time and energy. I've promised to work on this, after all I'm not the one saddled with the job of driving. In fact, I get to relax, look at the scenery, play on my computer, and occasionally drift off to sleep. The least I can do it get us somewhere decent before dark.

But, selecting a place to land in a place you've never been before is not easy. You are considering so many factors. We've decided we like state and national parks best, but not all have campgrounds, and many campgrounds are closing for the season. Robert dislikes commercial RV parks. He hates being right up against another RV, and he hates paying for the night when the plan is to leave the next morning. My considerations are slightly different: I like laundry and shower facilities and internet access.

Three months on the road and we are getting wiser (the benefit of making mistakes), but we have much to improve on. Cutting back on expenses would be the first. It is easy to overspend. $30 dollars for an RV park is not uncommon. Restaurants, admission fees to various attractions, shopping, groceries, and gasoline can put us at $200 dollars in one day. If we were frugal we could bring that figure down considerably. This is the aspect of RV travel that I'd like to pay attention to now that the "honeymoon" is over.

Actually, in the last 24 hours I thought we'd done pretty well. $10 dollars for the overnight parking at Oak Bottom. I made potato and leek soup for dinner. Lunch, today, was leftovers eaten in the trailer at a rest stop. And tonight we are overnighting in the parking lot of the Flying J Truck Stop in Modesto. Pretty frugal, heh? However, we treated my aunt Rose and cousin Gigi in Folsom (the town, not the prison!) to dinner tonight and filled the gas tank twice. And with gas at $3.30 a gallon, well--goodbye, greenbacks.

Maybe we'll make more progress with this in Yosemite. But, once again, I don't really know what to expect there in spite of everything I'll read beforehand. This is the nature of the unknown. You just have to learn as you go.

Sharing the Gleam

2007-11-02T00:38:00.000-06:00

We left the Ashland area (reluctantly) to head to Valley of the Rogue State Park a bit west on I-5. We want to camp alongside Rich and Eleanor and firm up our plans to visit Yosemite together. The drive over was gorgeous passing through valleys full of orchards tucked between rolling foothills. I kept thinking about how migrating pioneers must have shouted "Hallelujah" at the sight of such beauty. It must have seemed like a fitting reward for such a miserable journey west.

We made a quick stop in Jacksonville primarily to visit the museum. I couldn't pry Allison out of the Children's Museum. It was stuffed with artifacts of days past when kids went to one-room schoolhouses and moms churned butter and laundered clothes with a washboard. There were stations set up that featured different activities common to pioneer life. Everything was touchable, hands-on, which is rare for history museums. She absolutely loved it. We may try to sneak back for another run-through.

We only had a few moments to walk the main street in Jacksonville. I'm told there are 60 historical buildings standing in the town. It seems things are well-preserved. Once, long ago, Jacksonville hoped to see the railroad come through, but Medford got it instead and the course of Jacksonville was altered forever. Good thing. Medford is a little metropolis while Jacksonville is a quaint, pastoral hamlet overflowing with charm. I feel a tinge of worry for the place as I stroll downtown under the frontier-style architecture of the shops. I also feel greed. How can I get a piece of this before everyone else grabs it all? Is that not human nature? I'm as bad as the next guy, or the next home-equity rich Californian. We passed a few trophy houses on the hills and I'm muttering, "Damn Californians. They're going to ruin everything."

Robert went to look for a hardware store to get a wrench for Rich while Allison and I ducked into a couple of shops. I tried on a long skirt in one that I liked immediately. Allison, my fashionista, brought a knitted scarf to the dressing room, saying, "Mom, you must try this."
"No, it looks itchy," I replied, but wrapped it around my neck anyway to please her. Surprisingly, it was soft and happened to match the skirt so well I decided to buy both. Now I'm one step closer to being a gentle Oregonian now that I own a hemp skirt!

Tonight we are set up in the park next to Rich and Eleanor. I must say our rigs look mighty handsome in the backdrop of this lush green setting. There is something so elegant about the smooth curves of the Airstream and the reflective gleam of the aluminum at dusk. That we are the only two beauties here--well, don't we feel special? I feel like I have a Thoroughbred in a pasture full of cart horses. Emma and Allie scrambled off to play in our Airstream while we adults gathered in the other. I tried to restrain myself from grilling Rich with too many questions. He and Eleanor are a living data source for all things Airstream. They are pioneers we've caught up with on the trail. They have insight and knowledge of the conditions ahead. So, naturally we want to know everything.

Eleanor prepared a nice dinner for us all before we separated to turn in. I found that there was wi-fi access for a small fee here so of course I got online to write. Meanwhile, I'm sure Rich is doing the same. Besides publishing the Airstream magazine, he keeps a blog too. Since we are spending time together we'll naturally be writing about one another which adds an unusual dimension to a new friendship. So, when I finish writing this you know I'll be heading to his website to see what he writes about us, those damn Airstream newbies!

Everybody go, Boo!

2007-10-31T23:27:00.000-06:00

Trick or treat, Ashland, Oregon. You can don your scariest get-ups, but you don't spook us. Your people are just too mellow, too good-natured, too organically fortified to be threatening. I shouldn't be surprised at the great effort you go to; you are a town well practiced in theatre.

What a treat to parade downtown with your babies in bumblebee costumes, your dogs in tutus. Okay, maybe a few paraders were a little scary, but cuteness ruled the day.

Allison had a buddy to trick-or-treat with. We met up with Rich and Eleanor Luhr and their daughter, Emma, who is Allison's age. Rich publishes Airstream Life and travels the U.S. in their Airstream Safari. We all hit it off right away having the Airstream experience in common--as well as the road-schooled daughter thing. It was just good fortune that we happened to be in southern Oregon at the same time. We may buddy-up and travel the road together for awhile. That would certainly please Allison who's thrilled to have made a new friend.

Back in Oregon

2007-10-30T22:00:00.000-06:00

The only reason we went to Klamath Falls was to visit one of Robert's cousins. He has only two, the other two are dead and he never knew them. This one he only met once in his early childhood. We visited only a short while. The cousin and his wife and daughter publish a real estate magazine and were busy putting it together at the deadline. They dropped everything to entertain us, taking us to a nice dinner. I'm glad for Robert that they were such lovely people. I have many cousins, all pretty terrific; I think he felt he needed to produce something equal from his side!

Since we were so close to Crater Lake, we decided to go for a day trip. Lucky for us the weather was warm and clear. We got a good look and then headed to Medford. We spent the day today strolling through Ashland which was a nice surprise. The town is in such a beautiful setting surrounded by mountains. The autumn leaves are at their peak making the town look like some quaint picture postcard. We ate at Grilla Bites, an organic cafe and then walked to Lithia Park, a stunning woodland park that follows Ashland Creek. I could move to Ashland for that park alone.

We needed to find Allison a Halloween costume. I'd about given up after yesterday's unsuccessful run through Wal-Mart and Target. But now I found myself in the most opportune place for costumes: Ashland, the city of the Shakespeare Festival that runs from February through October. There is a wealth of used costumes for sale and we found them at the Gypsy Rose costume shop on Main Street. I was able to put something together for Allison in less than 15 minutes. She will be a girl pirate just in time for the Ashland Halloween Parade tomorrow. Everyone we met insisted we must come. I imagine it will be a real treat in a town like this.

We keep lingering in Oregon. We really like it. Not only is is lush and beautiful, it has such an interesting history. I am fascinated with the stories of the pioneers who made the dangerous trek to the Pacific northwest in the mid-1800's. The book I bought in Mt. Shasta City made good reading material on the road. I've read parts of it aloud to my captive family who also find it interesting. The book, Women's Diaries of the Westward Journey, by Lillian Schissel, offers a good picture into the westward migration. Those people went through hardships we can never imagine today. It is one of the greatest stories ever told, I believe. While we are here I'd like to visit several museums and interpretive centers that feature the Oregon Trail history. But first, Trick-or-Treat!

Gathering Water

2007-10-28T23:20:00.001-06:00

Here's video of people gathering water from the Sacramento River headwaters in Mt. Shasta City park.

Mt. Shasta

2007-10-27T11:34:00.001-06:00

It's from the locals that you get your best information about a place. Even the briefest conversations always lead to some interesting tidbit of guidance or advice. We would have never known about the headwaters of the Sacramento River in the city park, or the existence of cobra lilies in the meadows near Gumboot Lake if not for the coincidence of chance meetings with people here.

The transient who loitered outside the book store every day gave us the scoop about the headwaters. There is no sign or advertisement or scrap of information in the visitor literature about it, yet this surprising articulate man was adamant we not leave town before seeing it. Ice cold water flows from an underground spring through a lava tube and out into the city park. People go there to collect drinking water.

So we went. We had no idea where in the park this attraction might be. When we found it we were surprised at the humble nature of a tiny pool of water with no marker. I was expecting a huge river, but the water streamed from small hole in a rock outcropping, and not all that forcefully. It was more of a peaceful pool that spilled into a creek. People, one-by-one, kept driving up the the spring unloading their water jugs and gingerly stepping on the stones to the source of the water. Everyone we spoke to agreed that the water was the cleanest, best-tasting water in the world. One couple had come down from Ashland, Oregon to fill their jugs. Many people believe the water has healing properties. Now, I understood why the check-out clerk at Ray's grocery looked so puzzled when, empty jugs in hand, I asked her where the bottled water machine was. She said, "You're not from around here, right?"

We filled a plastic gallon container we had with us and took a few swigs. We all agreed it was great-tasting water, but Robert being less impressed said it just tasted like melted ice. I think I was mostly impressed with the idea of drinking straight from a stream. If I lived here I would probably come here regularly for water. Of course, if I lived here I'd have to become more hippy-like and shed my conservative dress for hemp and hand-knitted apparel and become a vegan to fit in.

Overall, I find the area around Mt. Shasta to be full of interesting surprises, mostly all related to nature. It is such beautiful country and Mt. Shasta is majestic in a special way. It stands so tall and imposing and every sunset throws a dramatic cast on its snowy face to make it even more mesmerizing. I can see how people become convinced it is magical. I can understand how the myths and spiritual movements get started. I, too, would probably find myself drawn into the mysticism if I lived here. Maybe I'd undergo a complete spiritual transformation. I'll never know, because we've got our water jugs filled and are heading to Klamath Falls.

House of Soul Confusion

2007-10-25T23:11:00.000-06:00

Today, Allison and I returned to Mt. Shasta City to look for a birthday gift for Robert. We found ourselves in a store named, "Soul Connections," lured in by the geodes and polished stones in the window. However, the store specialized in new-age and metaphysical items and we were mesmerized by the amount of stuff you can buy to aid your soul-searching. I learned some interesting things about this area from the many books it featured. Apparently, many people believe Mt. Shasta is one of seven sacred mountains on earth and an ancient colony of people called, Lemurians, live deep in its core. They moved there 12,000 years ago to escape the sinking of their continent, Mu, on the Pacific. They live in the secret city called, Telos, that is filled with treasure. The reason we never see them is that they can make themselves invisible at will. People who have seen them say they are very tall (almost 7 feet) with slender necks and long, flowing hair. They speak Lemurian, but are also fluent in English (but with a British accent.)

I almost bought a book on the subject, but standing there surrounded by Buddha and Hindu and Chinese and goddess statuettes, crystals and wands, and Tibetan ritual bowls and bells, I felt the eye of the Jesus of Baptist Sunday School upon me. Now, I'm not sure what's the occult and what's simply a culturally diverse religious item, but helping fund the cult of Lumeria seemed not the thing to do. Instead, I let Allison buy little matching ceramic Foo Dogs. They were pink and blue and reminded her of the lions outside her favorite restaurant back home, the China Buffet. She read the little placard beneath them explaining their significance and mythic powers of protection. It stated that placing them at the foot of a child's bed will ward off bad dreams. How could I refuse with the shadow of Bigfoot still in her little head? I was becoming too confused and morally fuzzy-headed. What harm is a little foo dog if it comes with a mother's warning: Now, you understand that Chinese foo dogs really can't stop bad dreams, but it's nice that they want to, right?

Then, I was struck with the image of the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, and I felt a headache coming on.

Just your local folk

2007-10-25T21:07:00.001-06:00

After our hike up McCloud River we dropped into Mt. Shasta to stroll around. Mt. Shasta is a sweet little city next door to Weed. The book store on the main drag looked appealing so we stepped in, ordered some coffee and a hot chocolate for Allison, and looked through some books. I love bookstores so much, it hurts. I get a certain anxiety from a room filled with new books and magazines. Instead of relaxing with a book, sipping my latte, making polite conversation, I get overexcited about the choices. So much to read, so little days left in my life. And I can't stay focused. Every section beckons to me. Do I want to know about logging history or the ecology atop old-growth redwoods? And, God, how distracting are those Log and Timber dream home magazines. I finally settled on a book of first-hand accounts of the women who traveled west on the Oregon trail, probably a real downer, but surely good perspective for a woman traveling in the luxury of a new aluminum, fully appointed, Airstream trailer.

And what else gets my eye is the local character of the townsfolk who gather here. There are odd people everywhere, but there is a particular oddness to the California/Oregon "hippy" folk. I think it's their gentleness. I snapped a photo of this gentleman outside the bookstore puffing on his hand-rolled cigarette. Not weed, but something else, though I'm not sure it was tobacco either. I liked the care he gave to twisting his hair into a pretty knot on top.

Mother McCloud Doesn't Live Here Anymore

2007-10-25T19:08:00.000-06:00

We picked a great day to visit the McCloud area. The day was sunny and bright with no wind. Our first stop was the old company town (1897) of the McCloud River Lumber Company. This was a town totally built to sustain the lumber company, dubbed, Mother McCloud, for the forced dependency of the employees on the company. It prospered for many years until advances in the lumber industry outpaced it. Newer tools and equipment and better practices of timber cutting led to the decline of the industry in McCloud. It would be a ghost town if not for the sheer tenacity of folks who continued to pursue logging. A much smaller company operated until 2002. Now there is talk of the industry of bottled water. McCloud is also positioning itself as a vacation town, a tourist destination.

We really enjoyed our walk along the McCloud River Trail. We began in the lower falls and followed along the river to the upper. The middle falls is the biggest. The upper is small but falls from a greater height. Though some of the trail follows the water's edge, most of it is along a high ridge. It is a moderate hike that took about an hour each way.

Allison and I located two letterboxes hidden in the park. At the end of the trail we picnicked in the shade and the roar of the waterfall. Robert fell asleep in the pine needles. I watched the chipmunks scurry around him and thought how much he looked like a sleeping Gulliver. Allison busied herself building a chipmunk town with broken twigs and pine cones and I thought she looked like a kid should look: at one with nature.

4% of Magnificent

2007-10-23T23:47:00.000-06:00

4%. This figure I keep repeating when I think about the old growth forests. There is only 4% left of the magnificent old redwoods, cedars, sitkas, and other evergreens. It's like the story of the buffalo: you think there's plenty to spare, but everything is expendable.

Here's some footage from our walk through the Stout Grove in Jedediah Smith State Park on the northern California coast:

Happy in Weed

2007-10-23T21:28:00.000-06:00

From Jedediah Smith State Park we took Highway 199 northeast. Our plan was to get to Weed, California. No particular reason except that it was our wedding anniversary and we had to spend it somewhere--why not in Weed? Actually, my travel plan includes Mt. Shasta and Redding and from there back to the coast for more redwood exploration.

The trip covered something like 130 miles, but took 4.5 hours over mountains and a quick side sweep into Oregon. Once we descended into Happy Camp, California, we were following the Klamath River. It reminded us of the Salmon River in Idaho a bit the way the road runs alongside the river. Happy Camp sure sounded appealing, until we discovered it was synonymous with Bigfoot. It is the home to many Bigfoot sightings. There were murals and signs and statues of Bigfoot all along the road through the tiny town. All this Bigfoot imagery spooked Allison who had her dose of Bigfoot stories from her father while we camped in the Oregon backwoods. As we were taking a quick rest stop along the river, I spotted a deer across the bank. I blurted, "Look, Allison, a...." And I turned to say, "deer," but she had already dashed to the inside of the Airstream. Poor child.

But on to Weed. You can only imagine the ribbing Weed gets: How many motorists pull off the road to pose, thumbs up, under it's signs. How many stupid stoner inferences. Weed Street, Weed Museum, City of Weed. How'd you like to be a graduate of Weed High? If you can get past the giggling stoner humor you'd learn that Weed is named for the founder of the lumber mill, Abner Weed. It is an historic lumber town and the mill is at the end of its main street.

Weed sits under the shadow of Mt. Shasta which makes for a dramatic backdrop. Tonight, the moon rose over the pinkish cast on the summit left by the sunset. It was beautiful. There is a lot to see nearby. We visited the fish hatchery (the oldest west of the Mississippi) and the Sisson Museum which was a homey little repository for the artifacts of the county's founding period. I particularly liked the homages to the early settlers who tackled climbing Mt Shasta back in the late 1800's. The first woman to do so was named, Harriet Eddy.

She'd migrated to Sisson with her brother after losing her husband and infant daughter to tuberculosis. I imagine she felt she had nothing else to lose. She never married again, but cared for her brother and other lumber workers. There was no sugar, but she baked pies anyway and sold them for a little cash. And when she climbed Mt. Shasta, custom dictated that she wear a dress. This little fact gives me pause: What little and incongruous steps society made towards female independence. There is a story there and I want to know more about this woman and her world.

Tomorrow--a walk along the McCloud River and a visit to the lumber mill.

The Magnificents

2007-10-23T01:27:00.001-06:00

Apparently our drive through the southern Oregon Coast was during a major rain/wind storm. We hunkered down in Fort Orford thinking we'd visit Brookings the next morning, but by then we were ready for sunnier, drier conditions. We ended up in Jedediah Smith State Park near Crescent City, California, not much drier, but certainly beautiful. We parked in a beautiful spot along the Smith River. It had risen over 10 feet and the camp host warned us to keep an eye on it. It did rain a little through the night, but the river actually had begun to recede. The next two days we spent hiking through the giant redwood forests. The old trees (redwood, sitka spruce, fir) in Stout Grove were amazing, many over 300 feet tall. Our hike down Damnation Trail in the Del Norte Redwoods was a physical challenge for all of us. We were so proud of Allison for keeping up.

The 4.5 mile round-trip trail takes you on a 1000 foot descent to the ocean. But you can't actually get to the beach unless you crawl down a rock outcropping, so we just rested on the bluff eating our packed lunch. The hike took maybe 2.5 hours and all the way back we kept repeating, "What in the damnation!!!" Now we knew. That was the hardest trail we've taken, but so worth the effort.

I was without any internet access for three days. There are no Sprint towers in the area and Jedediah Park is too remote, so I had to just go rustic. We played games at night in Abby under the light from the lantern. It was a nice break.

Tales from the Oregon Coast

2007-10-18T17:16:00.001-06:00

Our stay in Portland was the longest on the trip--six days parked outside Sarah and Stuart's house. The Airstream acted as an apartment and we became neighbors that came to dinner every night. We broke our Ben Franklin policy regarding length of stay, but everyone seemed comfortable, especially Allison, who had her good buddy, Carly, to play with.

Yesterday we headed west, back to the Oregon coast. We took Highway 6 to Tillamook where we made a quick run through the Tillamook Cheese Factory (mildly interesting) and then began driving the coastline. We made a quick stop at the Oregon Coast Aquarium, a nice little gem of an attraction. There is a large exhibit devoted to crustaceans (huge lobsters and crabs) that were distractingly arousing to my appetite. I'm sure I'm not the first to wish for a bib and some drawn butter. My favorite section was this acrylic tunnel under a enormous aquarium. I took this shot of Allie on the runway as the overhead lighting warped the arch.

We found a nice spot for the night, the Carl Washburne State Park in Florence. Robert started a campfire, but the wood was too wet and no one wanted to sit with him while the wind whipped smoke into our eyes. Actually, Allison wouldn't come out of the trailer at all. Robert had spent the last three hours telling her Bigfoot stories. Don't you know Bigfoot creatures live in the remote forests of Oregon, probably in the very spot we were staying. We woke up with her in our bed, a habit we thought we'd recently broken.

The Oregon coast is rugged and in this October weather, very foggy. The wind was whipping up the sea and gusting across Highway 101 this morning. The Sea Lion Caves were temporarily closed due to the weather so we drove on. Robert had hoped to play golf at Bandon Dunes, but he's not eager to spend $250 to play in rain and wind. We stopped there to check the place out and I accidentally left my purse in the restaurant. We had to drive from Port Orford back to get it which put us in the middle of the rainy onslaught. We are now back in Port Orford buttoned-down for a stormy night. A fierce front has hit the southern Oregon coast prompting wind advisories and dumping hard rain. When we pulled into the RV park we didn't bother to unhook or set up the stabilizers. We'll just ride out the elements battering us from the outside. It feels like we're riding in a private train car with all the rocking. And now Robert is hollering for me to bring a pan to the bedroom. We've sprung a small leak. More updates later.

Clariol #177: Shade of old motor oil

2007-10-16T18:29:00.000-06:00

If I had to describe the inhabitants of Portland, Oregon in one word it would be: peaceable. People here seem so gentle and soft-spoken. What little I know of Oregon is that it is liberal and environmentally conscious. I think every home has twelve recycling bins and at least one War is not the Answer sign in the yard. (Okay, I exaggerate a little, but so does Stephen Colbert.) I tried helping Sarah in her kitchen but was too befuddled by how to sort the trash that I gave up. I'm not saying that Sarah and Stuart are liberal, or even gentle and soft-spoken, no, they might be the exceptions. But then, Sarah is really a displaced Texan and I like Texans.

I'm gentle myself, but I was tested today by an event that upset my mental equilibrium. I let somebody ruin my hair. I let them because I was desperate for any warm body with a beauty school certificate to fix me. I needed a touch-up to my dark roots and ever-graying hairline. I said, "Make my hair the color of my daughter's." A couple of weeks in the northwest and I was feeling the pull to go natural. Somehow I ended up with hair the color of used motor oil.

I thought I was handling the situation coolly, letting the hairdresser re-work his chemistry adding more goop to my hair. Two or three more trips to the rinse bowl and I began to comprehend the reality that this problem was not fixable. Hair is not like the photos that you tinker with in Photoshop. You can't just try on sepia or desaturated color and then say, "Nah, liked the original better." There's no double-click back to original. I began to question him and make other expressions of displeasure, at first mildly. He warned me to be positive so he could do a better job. As if my attitude could alter his competence. I tried being as zen as possible, telling myself it's only hair, I'm bigger than my hair. And other things like: Maybe a change will do me good. Maybe dull and plain is a good look for me.

Maybe you should let him pull a few lighter streaks through it, another hairdresser suggested. Her customer listened in and another until everyone was focused on me to see what commotion I would make and I was in a role I hate: the center of attention. The pressure in me found a crack, just a little crack, and I could feel I was about to blow. This is my hair, after all, any woman would sympathize. But I turned the situation into ridiculous comedy when I blurted: "NO! After this scene we've made he surely hates me and I won't have him do another thing to me!" "He doesn't hate you," the other hairdresser exclaimed, but her face showed a certain amusement and I knew it was time to just go away.

So, yeah, my hair is a problem, but I'll get over it. It's just hair, nothing to go to war over.

The Pumpkin Patch

2007-10-15T11:13:00.000-06:00

Our day at the pumpkin patch on Sauvie Island, near Portland.

PART ONE

PART TWO

God Bless the Little Brother

2007-10-13T23:13:00.000-06:00

This may be the best campsite so far: on the street in front of Sarah and Stuart Allen's house in Portland. Hanging out together here is just a continuation of our days together in Loreto. No formalities, just pure familial comfort. Robert and I adhere to the wise saying that fresh fish and company both stink after three days, but with the Allen's we feel inclined to overstay our welcome. We are having too much fun.

Yesterday, Sarah and I took a handful of kids (hers, mine, and others) to the Portland Zoo then for an ice cream run downtown. Today while the men were in Eugene for the Ducks game, we had a belated birthday party for Allison. It was Carly's idea to have a spa party. The girls set up stations throughout the house for different "treatments" It was a hoot to watch them pamper each other and more so to watch little brother, Clayton, do his part to help out. His job was to rub hands and feet which he did with such a focused effort towards proficiency. I wanted my turn with him. He's still too young to be disgusted with all things girly. What a good sport. I look at him and imagine Robert at his age, another little brother thrown into the world of sisters and their friends. Robert had sisters only--three that were older.

It took him a few years to comprehend the significance of gender difference before taking his place among the brotherhood of boys and begin scorning girls in earnest. Until that time however, he attended ballet class with his sisters--a fact they like to remind him of.

I believe this early immersion into the female domain did him much good. He genuinely likes being in the company of women. He has a healthy respect and understanding of women, much to my benefit. He is tender, and that is a really wonderful trait. But equally, he developed a strong sense of masculinity; this certainly due to any early overcompensation towards proving manhood (I've been known to call him a Neanderthal on frustrated occasions.) Overall, he's a well balanced guy, thanks, I believe, to his sisters.