IZZY

Summer vacation—days of sweet smelling flowers and evenings of warm shirt sleeve weather outdoors with friends and family. Sounds peaceful and relaxing doesn’t it? What happened?

I accepted a gift from my neighbor. He’s been bugging me about this for over a year now. “Try it out for a few days, and if you don’t want her, we’ll take her back.”

Hubby says, “That sounds like a car salesman’s hook.” I laugh, and think, I can resist. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give her back.

My gift is Izzy, a full blooded German shepherd pup and she is a FULL time job. It’s a good thing that I have the summer off from substitute teaching or I would be a total wreck. And, no, I can’t give her back. Demanding, mischievous, defiant as a small child—testing and trying me at every step. Growing so fast that I barely keep her collar adjusted fast enough for the size of her neck. Can’t pick her up anymore to cuddle her—she doesn’t fit the lap (I’ve had 40 years of Lhasa Apsos and now have to get over the idea of a lap dog). Nips and bites meant as play have scarred my arms so much so that Fred says I need welder’s gloves when I handle her. This is not the fun part.

“Keep on, be persistent. She’ll be worth it. They are so smart. She’ll be such a good companion. She’ll be a great watchdog, look how her ears are developing ". . . and on, and on. I feel like I am being dragged along by a leash of hope even as I drag Izzy along because she doesn’t want to walk. Who ever heard of a German shepherd that doesn’t want to walk? Cesar Millan, Dog Whisperer, I need your help! I’m doing everything all wrong here.

Okay, so I go back to the basics. Cesar says I’ve been anxious—she won’t trust me if I put out anxious energy—Rules, Boundaries and Limitations, Cesar’s mantra. Hmmm. So, I think, remember when I started teaching. Decide on the rules, then step by baby step, teach the rules with rewards and consequences—and don’t let up for a second.

Today is a new day. I’ll give it another try. Izzy forces me out of my comfort zone, forces me to be consistent—not a bad thing when you are retired (or semi-retired); forces me to come up with new challenges for her, while challenging me to be assertive, positive, and never let her see me sweat; a puppy teaching this old dog some new tricks.

(Izzy at 9, 11 and 12 weeks old)

MAUI

It’s been a long dry spell for blogging. Before catching up, here is my second installment on our trip to Hawaii:

Our second week in Hawaii was on the island of Maui. This was our third trip to Maui and I had promised myself that on this trip we would visit Haleakala, the inactive island volcano. It’s one of the promoted things to do on Maui; get there at dawn to see sunrise above the clouds and then watch the changing colors of the landscape as the sun rises. You are told to dress warmly as the mornings up there are quite cold before dawn. What they forgot to mention is the wind. It intensifies the cold many times over. When you plan a trip to Hawaii, you don’t think to bring winter parkas, hats and gloves but that’s what is needed to be comfortable up there.

We started our drive at 3:00 a.m. Fred doubted we needed to start out so early, but I like to plan for delays and it was a good thing we did. The drive was way longer than what I'd assumed from reading guide books.

As we drove across the island from our lodging in Lahaina, I was surprised by the huge fires of piles of burning sugar cane stalks dotting the lowland. (wish I had a picture)

Haleakala rose above the cane fields with a string of headlights snaking up its side (reminding me of the scene in movie, The 13th Warrior, as the enemy came down the mountain in the night. All you could see were the slow moving lights of the blazing torches as they descended the mountain).

I wasn’t prepared for the exhausting tedious switchbacks. Each time we thought we were getting close to the top, we’d take another turn and see more miles of slow crawling lights ahead. If you decide to take in this site, take a tour bus. Haleakala is 12,000 feet above the ocean.

After arriving at the top rim of the volcano in the dark, we jockeyed for position with everyone else amidst flashlights and lighters. We found the “best spot” and wondered why we were so lucky to get that top spot since we were not the first arrivals. In about two minutes in we knew. We couldn’t take the icy wind whipping over the rim any longer and had to move to a lower, warmer spot. Camera at the ready, we waited and waited in the freezing morning air, huddled together for warmth, fearing the sun would never rise before we froze. But then it started, and the cold became less important.

(When you drive from sea level to 10,023 feet, you drive through as many different life zones as you would if you drove north from central Mexico to Alaska: internet information)

It was a nice visual experience but on this day it was not one of those spectacular sunrises bragged about, just merely beautiful.

After the sun was up, the viewing station opened up and we went inside, more for warmth than for edification. The view over the interior of the crater was a Mars-like landscape of colors. Impressive.



Heading back we saw the famous Silversword.

http://www.mauidownhill.com/haleakala/plants/silverswords.html

and small pheasant-like birds called Chukars.

I had always wanted to see the Silversword since reading a Phyllis Whitney romance novel many, many years ago that featured this strange plant that grows no where else.

I bought this photograph by a local artist, on our last visit to Maui, of a field of Silverswords at different stages.

Little Red Rooster crows about Kauai

After a long flight from San Jose, we flew into Oahu where we caught our connecting flight to Kauai.

By the time we rented a car (be forewarned that any maps you get on Kauai will not be to scale and appear out of whack. I'd believe they're designed to purposely confuse you if I could figure out a logical reason why), we drove around confused and frustrated searching for about an hour (but how frustrated can you be in paradise, right? and Kauai is not all that big). We finally found the Sheraton after asking three different people who told us three different directions (are they confused also?).


We were just in time to unpack, open the balcony door, breathe deeply then head downstairs to the lanai for free Mai Tais and entertainment by the ocean.

It was raining and foggy the day we took a bus tour to the Waimea Canyon which is the Grand Canyon of the Islands.

We had to go back the next day in our rental car to actually see the canyon which was still a bit foggy. Our highlights of Kauai were the people we met--very friendly, open and down to earth.


On the bus tour our driver, a native of Kauai and consummate story teller, shared a story of his childhood on the island. To make that loooong story short (the long story is much better but I could never tell it the way he did nor do I want to lose half of you with a novelette length story here) here it is; when he was a boy on the island, living up the mountain, the sugar cane factory had a train that transported the cane to the mill down closer to the water. When electricity came to the island one of its first uses was a traffic light at the crossroads where a dirt road transected the tracks. It was such a novelty whenever the train made the trip, that it captivated and fascinated him and his family.

On holidays they would pile into the family car and head down to the ocean to picnic and swim. Sometime in the afternoon, they would hear the sugar train start to move down the track. The whole family would jump into the car and race to the intersection to watch the new wonder; the big "eye" that would blink and ding. He’d clap and dance around with excitement at this red-eyed wonder, a highlight of their day at the beach. Here is the red-eyed wonder, now a little worn with age.

I love the red earth of Kauai.

It makes the lush green of the island stand out even more. I think that might have something to do with my love of the Kauai coffee (for me it beats Kona). We spent an afternoon sipping all the different varieties of Kauai coffee and watched videos of how their coffee is processed.

There are some really wonderful spots to go to on Kauai. Briefly, here are a few we made time for:



A river boat tour takes you to the Fern Grotto down the Wailua River. We'd made the trip over 30 years ago when we’d gone behind the falls of the fern grotto—so magical.



Walking down the path, photographing all the beautiful, exotic flowers (while stumbling over everyone else taking pictures) I was anticipating the grotto.



Then, when we arrived, I learned that the big hurricane of 1992 caused a landslide which covered the hillside walkway, closing it forever. Now there is a platform to view the grotto at a distance, not the same as going inside and experiencing it.

On the upside, the boat owners had brought along entertainment, a family who sang, danced and played music for us. The older “Auntie” sang the Hawaiian Wedding song for a newly married couple, and those of us on our wedding anniversary (41 years for Fred and I). We talked to her afterward and made a real heartfelt connection.


On the ride going back down the river, she dedicated a song to us, welcoming us back to Kauai. We were very moved.

Lighthouses, churches

and protected sea lions sleeping on the beach.

Palm trees, sunrises and sunsets.

Gardens,

strange pine trees

. . . . and island roosters unique to the island of Kauai (that’s a story for another day but here is a little video I captured of a rooster showing off for me).

A little love from the island of Kauai.(Be sure you have your audio on to hear his crowing-so funny)

Writing? Don't ask.

A friend wrote me a note the other day mentioning that the blog tells only of my travels and she asked where she could learn about my writing. This is my writing, for now anyway. I have several short stories in a shared mystery anthology with some friends (Valley Fever, Where Murder is Contagious), another short story in a German anthology (good news is it’s been in print for over 10 years bad news is it doesn’t do you any good unless you read German), one unpublished novel, and some short shorts out of print now (sounds like a familiar Christmas song).

The past few years, I kind of burned out on writing and submitting; so little pay for so much work--but really, teaching had exhausted me and I just couldn't put on my creative writing cap. Berated by my writing friends for not writing, I'd avoided mentioning writing at all when I could get away with it. This blog keeps my mind working—even though it’s been quite a few months since the last entry, I have been writing down ideas, doing a memoir and working on some ancestry stories—and, as I do regularly, writing a journal.

Then, there it was again the other day, the dreaded, “Are you working on your manuscript?” “No, but I’ve started a new short story—sci-fi.” I’m superstitious when it comes to talking about writing. Either you're doing it or you are not and talking about it takes the wind right out of your sails—or sucks the ideas right out of your head. “What’s it about,” can be deadly to your ideas until you’ve got them all down.

So, send me good energy and maybe I'll get published again this year, just don’t ask if I’m

writing.

I'm still dwelling on October in Hawaii. First night on Kauai

and sunrise next morning.

Kauai was our first island this trip, which we hadn't been to in over 30 years. LOVED it, again.

more to come. . .

Breathe in the Bay

It’s been over a month since my last trip out of town, and updating the blog gives me an excuse to re-look at those photos and post them. It has cooled off here in the San Joaquin Valley (under 100s) but it’s still warm enough to want to view the pictures of the San Francisco Bay and remember the cool breezes wafting in as we visited the Bay in August.


We picked up some coffee and bagels at Katz and headed over to the marina to watch the ships come in and go out.

I was about to take pictures of two sea gulls sitting on the sea wall when another gull hurried over to join the group for a group portrait. I offer the two pictures so you can see the brown one flying over to have his mug captured as well. It's almost as if the middle gull turned around to see if the darker one was coming (or maybe to hurry him up). Anyway, they posed as if they were sea captains standing on deck at full attention.

Of course there is always something happening in San Francisco but I wasn't prepared when the streaker came running up to us in the Castro, dressed only in a 4" by 8" sign (you can guess where that was hanging). I did catch the "ghouls" covered in "blood" walking downtown like the living dead--advertising a new vampire movie I was told.


I really regret my missed opportunity to take a picture of "camouflage man" who sat on the curb at Fisherman's wharf wrapped in branches of leaves, and "scaring" people by talking to them as they went by from his "hideout." (really hysterical)


But, I did capture silver man, though, (I don't know what else to call him). He is in the middle between the two poles which you will probably have to click on it to enlarge to see him).





Coming home I took this beauty of a shot of the Salinas Valley

SUMMER ESCAPES

Traveling to Oregon in July, we spent several days camping out in the woods with old friends. We passed Mt. Shasta on the way north, which was covered in smoke from the many fires but clear coming back which allowed for this beautiful shot my daughter took.

Another weekend was spent in Cambria with friends where we visited the beach and watched dolphins and sea otters playing in the surf.

I’d never seen dolphins off the California coast before and we spent hours watching them playfully leap out of the water as they herded fish back and

forth (sea gulls flew above the dolphins, swooping down for a fish now and again).

I wish I’d been able to snap a good picture of the dolphins but I would have needed more than my digital camera to catch them in mid-leap. All I’ve got are dozens of pictures of the splashes after they dived. This was the best I could do (you’ll need to click on the picture, making it larger for viewing).

I also had a grizzled old sea gull, too old to fly for his food, who patiently stared me into giving him some crumbs from my sandwich, then fought off all comers who wanted in on the action. (See him in the lower left of this picture)

Sometimes when you travel far and wide you forget the beautiful places close by home. I hadn’t visited Bass Lake in several years although I used to visit it fairly often every summer and sometimes at other times of the year as well.

I’d gotten into a funk a few weeks back and needed to clear my head so I bugged Fred until we picked up and went to the lake for a day so relaxing and healing that we planned a second visit that same week.

We packed all our stuff –sandwiches, chips, drinks, and cookies so we wouldn’t have to stop for anything, plus a chair, a chaise and cushions for comfort while we read, swam and watched the boats.

It felt like we’d spent a week on holiday after we got home that

night. I was so laid back that I didn’t take many pictures. I will escape to Bass Lake again this summer, for sure.

Remember Dorothy’s mantra, “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…”

Off The Beaten Path

How many fires were burning in California at one time this past month? Those living in California probably know there were over 800 and a good chunk of that smoke blew east and was hanging over Reno while Fred and I were there in June. Not good for photos, fun or health. So, on our way home we decided to take an alternate route other than the usual Hwy 80. We went south on Hwy 395 through Carson City and then caught Hwy 50 west through South Lake Tahoe, avoiding the smoke, road construction and Sacramento traffic.

We stopped in Placerville at Mel’s Diner for some 60’s style grill cheese sandwiches, fries and music of the Platters. Then we dropped down Hwy 49 through Diamond Springs, Plymouth and Sutter’s Creek, all interesting old gold mining towns, where I began to perk up and bring out my camera.

Switching over to Hwy 124 I caught a glimpse of this old cantina that caught my eye enough to snap these pictures.






Moving on, lulled by the winding road and the country vistas, I wasn’t prepared for the mansion that caught my eye coming into Ione, California. I spotted it through trees and hills and yelled something about, “What the H--- is that? Stop, I’ve got to get a picture of that…what is that, how can a building that size be in this old mining town?”

We meandered through the streets in town to find one that would take us up to this mansion, which reminded me of a cross between a creepy haunted mansion and the idea of Steven King’s Kingdom Hall Hospital or a dreadfully overdone blood red mental institution back when mental institutions were not for the faint of heart. Okay, so I’m a fiction writer and I exaggerate, but only to impress how it really gave me the willies.

We finally found the place and here’s a picture of the sign.

Fred remembered something from his youth about rough kids bragging that they were at Preston, so it fit.

I found out from some research on the internet that it is closed (see below). It didn’t look closed when we were there, as 3 men that looked like guards came out into the parking lot (and there were several parked cars). Razor wire and a gun tower (no picture of that), made me not want to linger for more pictures.

When we traveled on through the downtown, it appeared pretty much as it must have looked back in the day.

From Wikipedia I learned:
“Ione is located in the fertile Ione Valley, which is believed to be named by Thomas Brown around 1849 after one of the heroines in Edward Bulwer-Lytton's drama "The Last Days of Pompeii." During the days of the Gold Rush, the miners knew the town by the names of "Bedbug" and "Freezeout." Unlike other communities in Amador County which were founded on gold mining, Ione was a supply center, stage and rail stop and agricultural hub.”

On the history on the old mansion—“The Preston School of Industry, known as The Castle, was built between 1890-1894 to serve as a school for juveniles referred by the courts. The Castle is currently not in use (then why all those people?), but the Preston Castle Foundation is working to help restore The Castle.” (to what?)

I thought my picture taking was over until we were nearly out of town and I found the cemetery. There were some very touching graves. (Double click on the picture on the left to enlarge it)

Tid bit from Wikipedia:
—“Dave Brubeck, the famous jazz pianist, was raised in Ione and in 1998 scored a video tour of the castle called "A Castle's Song", sold through KVIE to help fund the restoration efforts.”

So, answer the call to adventure and try another route on your next road trip. You never know what you'll find “off the beaten path.”