Holidays

Some months drag and some fly by. I blinked and November was over.

The highlight of November was Thanksgiving. We spent the weekend in San Francisco with our daughter, Monique. It’s always a treat to drive over the Bay Bridge and see the city explode like a jewel in the mid-day sun after cresting the midpoint. I had hopes of capturing that image with my camera but just as I was about to take the picture, Fred had to swerve and the opportunity was lost. So all you get is the top of the bridge.

After a wonderful day of good food, friends and old Christmas movies, we retired to an absent friend's volunteered apartment which was so much better than a hotel room (except for the modern 70’s couch which is perfect for a young person but hard on the backs of those over the . . . (hill? Nah.)

During our four day trip we went to the town of Bolinas on the coast of Marin north of S.F. We spent the afternoon on the beach, catching up with more friends. In late afternoon, it got chilly and we headed to dinner.

As I was searching the internet to find out the name of the restaurant we ate at (which I never did), I came across this blog about Bolinas that I found charming and interesting. You might want to check it out. I decided not to reinvent the wheel. This writer can give you the low down on Bolinas better than I could if I spent hours researching it:
http://teaandcookies.blogspot.com/2006/01/of-bolinas-brigadoon-and-baked-goods.html

On the drive back we skirted Mt. Tam (Tamalpais) on the coastal road, leaving those of us in the car some where between “When in the blankety blank will this drive around the hill be over,” to “Oh my god I’m going to lose my dinner.” We finally crested Mt. Tam, crossed the Golden Gate and headed toward a more settled stomach.

One of the fun things to do on a Sunday morning in San Francisco is to hit the flea market and see what interesting things you might find.

After a bagel and some coffee (see blog #2 Backing up a day for the Bagel place) we headed for the flea market and wandered around for an hour or so.

I found a few old books, then came across a framed picture that got my attention, reminding me of the fairy tales I loved as a child. My first memorable literary experience was when my grandmother would take me to a local library in Queens, N.Y. once a week where a woman would read stories aloud to children on certain days while our imaginations melted into the muraled scenes of those stories that covered the walls, many being fairy tales. That left a visual impression that has never dimmed.

I bartered with the owner of the print, telling here it was just a book plate and got it down to $3.00. After I got back to Fresno, I tore it out of its frame to reveal the artist, Josef Lada, and confirm that it was indeed a book plate (since the artist is a Chech artist I assume the writing on the back is also). After a morning of research, I learned Josef Lada’s paintings have reached iconic status in the Czech Republic – if you are interested to learn a little more, go to this link:
http://www.radio.cz/en/article/98151

This print that is almost like the one I bought (the same little character smoking a pipe and sewing a shoe, sitting on a log hanging over a river--themes he repeats in his art).

And then I blinked, and it was Christmas. I leave you with another picture of Lada’s, an endearing Christmas scene.

Fall Art

Some artists say the finished product is not the important thing; it’s all about the journey. With the fall here and winter not far behind, like nature I withdrew inward—and rather quickly. The ebullience of summer’s energy faded and withered, giving way to thoughtful musings and time to reflect. Since retirement, I finally have that time and used it.

I started this blog with enthusiasm and then fall hit and the blog came to a screeching halt. I’ve become reflective and quiet. I want to stare out at the hazy days of fall and watch the yellow, orange and red leaves drift down.

My roses are giving their last push to put out puny blooms (I think I need to feed them). I know I should go out and rake the leaves and tend my roses, but instead I stare at it all in sleepy awe and do as little as I can conscionably get away with.

We haven’t done much traveling since the start of this blog, unless you count a drive into the hills to get a couple of free dinners at the Table Mountain Indian Gaming casino. Fred got some dinner coupons for his help at the Savemart golf Shootout last month and we needed to use them or lose them.

The hills are dry now. After living through many seasons here in the San Joaquin Valley, I’ve come to appreciate the dry hills of fall. They have their own beauty of beiges and tans. It’s a more subtle beauty than spring, when all the shades of green explode and fill your soul with healing and hope. Fall is quiet. Reflective. Introverted. A good time to take a moment to think about where you’ve been this year, where you are headed—or maybe just watch Nature do its fall art.

After The Clouds

. . . then came the storm. At the beginning of this week, late afternoon, the Emergency Broadcasting System kept interrupting Oprah, telling of a storm coming, threatening lightening, thunder, hail. After two hours of that and no storm, I went outside to cover a glass top table just in case and take a picture of the sky.

I didn't notice while taking it but you can see a tiny funnel cloud coming down from the clouds.

When the storm finally hit, we got some rain, no hail (although some parts of Fresno did) and lots of lightening and thunder. With all that electricity in the air, I was motivated to pick up the camera, run upstairs to try and catch a picture. You are thinking why am I even showing this, right?

I snapped about 5 shots one after the other to try and capture a picture of the lightening. I downloaded them and then thought I didn’t have very good pictures until noticed that the 1st one was actually the lightening strike, when initially I thought it was steamy and foggy on the window due to the rain. But the shots right after that are not like that at all. So I enlarged them (you can click on the picture twice to enlarge) and saw the little lightening “sparks” running along the lower left of the picture and I wondered if the rest of the blotches are some sort of energy explosions from the lightening. Anybody who can explain this, please make a comment to enlighten my curious mind. Anyway, I thought they were interesting.

Clouds

Many of the things you can count, don’t count. Many of the things you can’t count, really count. Albert Einstein


. . .like clouds.

Have you taken the time lately to look at clouds? I am a cloud watcher and October is cloud watching month (at least it is for me). The formations this month are magnificent.


Problem with capturing these images that take my breath away is that by the time I think about it, I am past that moment when I can get my camera out, snap a clear shot—usually through power lines while driving on the freeway or crossing an intersection or behind so many trees it would not make a good picture.

I decided this week that I am going to get those pictures no matter what. Life is not perfect. Too much time is waisted waiting for things to be just right. I'm changing my ways. So, here are a few imperfect sky views snapped while traveling across Fresno yesterday. You'll just have to deal with the fact that they are taken through my windshield, while driving, trying not to get in a wreck.

Backing up a day

On Saturday we drove up to San Francsico to spend our 40th wedding anniversary weekend with Monique and give her some help with her new apartment. We ate at her favorite restaurant, Chow http://www.inetours.com/Pages/Dining_Archive/Chow.html If you go there, opt for the garden room in the back. We ended the day sharing a bowl of popcorn, watching samurai movies.

Sunday, Oct. 21 we awoke to a red/orange dawn over San Francisco. Monique's new view looks southeast with a clear view of the city. It was an absolutely beautiful, warm SF day--the kind that makes you sing along with Tony Bennett, "I left my heart in San Francisco."

I stumbled into the kitchen to make some French press coffee with special grains my daughter left for us before she headed out to sell stuff at the flea market. After we got ourselves in gear, we headed over to Katz bagels http://www.yelp.com/biz/v2oFK-_qhtT50t9KBDgPEw to get some breakfast bagels and more coffee, then on to the flea market to "help" Monique (although she had already set up) with her friend. The endeavour was going nicely, as you can see.











Sunday night I chose one of my favorite restaurants, Eric's http://erics.ypguides.net/ We ate our fill and took home lots of leftovers.

On Monday we went out to breakfast at Crepe Vine http://www.yelp.com/biz/crepevine-san-francisco then took off to spend the beautiful day on the coast. We stopped at the Marina and took a few pictures of the Golden Gate and the Bay, tooled around reminiscing about how things have changed since we lived there in the 60's and 70's and after a light lunch at Fuzio http://www.fuzio.com/ we headed south.






So began our journey that started this blog.

Off The Cuff

This blog is on travels and musings. Memories fade and pictures capture only one moment in time, but together with some commentary maybe they can be enhanced—a story book version of the experience. Not all travel is to foreign places. And travel off the cuff can allow for surprises that please and delight.



Let me start at the beginning. October 21, 2007 was the celebration trip of Fred’s and my 40th wedding anniversary. We took a trip to visit our daughter, Monique, in San Francisco. She was in the midst of fixing up her new apartment (it’s way more than “fixing”, see her blog at http://dayataglance.blogspot.com ). We happened onto a gorgeous weekend in San Fran and decided to travel the Pacific coast on our way back home to Fresno.




(Our trip in first person)
Down Hwy 280 out of S.F. on Monday, Oct. 22, we take the Half Moon Bay turn off. Along the road into Half Moon Bay I get a few shots of one Pumpkin field (there are so many more).

















As we travel further we come across this fabulous pottery place with these metal sculptures of animals real and imagined at the side of the road (I can't believe I forgot to get the name of the place--I think it was because I was a bit overwhelmed by all the ideas this place was generating in me and Fred).











This has to be the best selection of pottery I have ever been exposed to in one place—there is yard after yard, room after room--of every kind of pottery, statuary for the garden and fountains that I have ever seen. This is a tiny example that hardly does it justice:













note the dragon beyond the fence.

After we reach Half Moon Bay we are ready for some food. We find two ladies pumping out great sandwiches in a little deli inside the same building as an old hotel which I have a card of somewhere. (I have to get better at getting the names of places.) We get avocado, cheese, tomato and lettuce sandwiches on Olive Walnut Bread, cream soda, Maui potato chips and a homemade brownie, which I will nibble on for two days. (Some things just have to be savored.).

Lunch under our belts, we head south. We pass this greenhouse nursery I used to buy houseplants from when I had a boutique called The Elemental in the old Artefactorage Bldg. on Fulton St (years ago). I would gather up Monique and hop in our old VW bus every three weeks or so and travel to the coast to replenish my supply of potted plants. I relished having to resupply the shop. We'd go from room to room and hand pick our plants. The gorgeous plant specimens, wonderful oxygen and fresh smell of moist earth were a sensory experience that stays with me still.




Further south, a few shots of Pescadero Beach.















Here’s a close up:
*Note the pirate ship someone constructed out of the plentiful drift

wood that abounds here ....












...and how very misty it is here where the stream coming from inland meets the ocean.














Traveling on,


We then come to Pigeon Point Lighthouse. They have some private rooms as well as being a youth hostel. It might be an interesting place to stay—very inexpensive.


































We drive on to Santa Cruz, arriving about 5:00 pm and veer right into a small motel I stayed at years ago—on the cliffs overlooking the boardwalk and pier; the Sea and Sand Inn.

We arrive just in time for free wine and cheese, which we promptly take advantage of. I have a

nice Chardonnay, Fred--a Merlot we settle ourselves on the grass patio and wait until sundown



















. . .while we enjoy the view -- the pier, the moon above and the great location at a great price.
















A few hardy souls are still surfing (hard to make out in the pictures). The board walk is quiet. The rides are all still now. The shadows lengthening. End of day 1.

Day 2
In the morning I awake at 6 am and after a refreshing shower step outside to watch the dawn. An orange streak across the horizon of the ocean at first confuses me—me thinking that when I look out at the ocean it is west. But the Monterey Bay curves and Santa Cruz sits at one end of the curve (Monterey at the other) looking east so the ocean I am viewing is actually the Bay.

The lamplights on the pier reflect in the water, making me think of the lights of the London bridge on the Thames. I wish I had my camera but the battery is busy charging. The barking seals that live under the pier sound like a hundred handsaws all sawing at the same time—or maybe a hundred mastiffs all barking at the same time.

By taking note of these details, I ask myself, “What does that sound like, what does that look like?” My imagination gets its exercise. Other moments I don’t think at all and let my senses take it all in without discrimination. The big sounds wash over me—the waves crashing against the shore, the seals—then slowly, the rising traffic of a weekday morning, smaller birds making their morning chirps and calls. The breeze licks my cheek, playing with a wisp of hair—a soft breeze.

I walk to the lobby to get my 7 am coffee and back to the room to get a pad and pen. I get reflective and think of Monique’s attention to detail (see her blog of fixing up her new home in S.F.). As I note the bits and pieces of my experience I decide to create this blog, more for myself than not, forcing me to take a closer look at the details, not just the big picture. Every little moment is a treasure. Every little treasure has the same import as the big ones (or maybe more). Taking note of the smaller details refines my discrimination; helping me define what I like and ultimately who I am.

The sun is warming me now, it is close to 8 am, and I start to get into regular mind; thinking I should be writing on my novel or a short story, something that will be productive.

So here are the morning pictures:

Our room has the open door.

After our continental breakfast, we head south to Moss Landing, taking Sandholt Road across the small bridge which looks back at the Moss Landing Stacks and boat harbor:

. . . and find Phil’s Fish Market where we have lunch. It is a must if you are in the area. Since it is early I think I’ll have a small bowl of clam chowder but end up with a stuffed artichoke as well and Fred has steamed clams. The artichoke is stuffed with crab & shrimp and Fred’s order of steamed clams is more like a bowl of soup with clams, tomatoes & garlic, etc, which Fred says is the best. A definite must stop when we come this way again.

An interesting house we pass:

On our final leg of the trip we make a stop in Castroville to do a little antique store hunting (more like junk store with old stuff) and stretch our legs. I find a few Blue Onion plates and Fred finds a piano chart.

We arrive at Monterey a little tired so we stop in Lover’s Point Park and lay on the grass for a while.

The perfect place to glance back across the Monterey Bay toward Santa Cruz and read a little before heading home on our 40th wedding anniversary trip, don’t you think?

More travels to come in the future.