The Scratching Post

Ghost Real Estate

2010-11-04T16:28:00.000-07:00

I think we both slept better in Barstow, due in no small part to not being freezing cold all night. Since we'd gone to bed early we both woke up fairly early and after consulting the internet on various important issues, packed up and said good-bye to the tiny little pool. We were bound -- for IHOP!

Theo had the evening previous stated that he wanted a real breakfast, not Sara's 'eat something, whatever, come-on, let's go!' routine. Our choices in Barstow and the surrounding area seemed to be between Denny's and IHOP so -- there we went to enjoy pancakes and hashbrowns. Theo got a crepe with fresh fruit, one of the few non-fried things he'd had in the past few days.

Next we got onto the 58 freeway and started out for California City. The sky was dark and ominous in most directions, and we saw lightening in the distance. There really wasn't much else to see except for broken old houses doing imitations of Stone Henge.

We came upon California City boulevard and turned right, traveling through more nothing. Another ten minutes and we'd reached our ultimate goal.

California City was strange. Very strange. We'd read about it in an article some month's ago and both been determined to come out and see the endless empty lots that made up the third largest city in CA -- geographically. At first all we saw was the actual city -- but something wasn't quite right. Street signs marked streets that weren't there. There were strange, double, one-way streets and we made a wrong turn and went down one going the wrong way, not that it mattered because no one was there. At one point in the middle of the city, only a dozen yards from a Rite Aid, we drove around a winding street with dead-ended off shoots, ending in a circular spot of asphalt. There were no buildings being served by this road.

We got out to the edge of town and found the lots. Debris and motorcycle tracks littered the ground. Weeds had forced their way up through the cracked roads that led past dozens and dozens of empty real estate signs. Others still sat in the weeds, hopeful that maybe someone would be interested in some local property. Strange metal pipes stuck up at even intervals and we found a fire-hydrant parked out in nowhere. Here and there we caught sight of houses and trailers without any nearby neighbors.

I looked at Theo and around where we stood and knew these empty lots went on and on and on. It was strange, and surreal. I dubbed it standing amidst ruins that had never come to be. Really, it was the ruins of one mans fantasy. We'd come out here to look at nothing, and it was pretty creepy.

After a little while we'd had enough, and got back onto one of the main roads to take us out. Even out here we caught sight of a few more strange, endless roads going nowhere and some of the strange, naive charm of California City. We drove on out through all the empty lots.

After that we made a pretty straight/circuitous trip back home. We'd talked about going through Angeles National Forest but it was raining so hard and we were pretty tired, so we took the 14 down to the Los Angeles Area, and were home in time for a sushi lunch.

The Happiest Ghost Town on Earth

2010-10-28T13:00:00.000-07:00

Theo and I spent the night miserably shivering under our thin sheets, each worried about shutting off the air conditioning and bothering the other person. We got some sleep, but not of the highest quality.

Since we'd gone to bed early, we got up fairly early anyway. We packed up and set out, driving through Needles on our way out. There were some quaint leftovers of time gone past, and to add to the atmosphere, trains going by. But in the end there wasn't a whole lot to see, and we got on the freeway.

After a few minutes on the 40 and then the 95, we got ourselves onto historic Route 66. If I'd ever been on this road, I don't remember. The first part of the road wasn't so bad, with parts that had been recently paved. There weren't too many other people driving it, so we slowed down and took pictures of the ghost-houses and structures that we'd pass from time to time. When we couldn't see any signs of life in the area we questioned the even meager population count of a few of the signs.

I have a soft spot for modern ruins, and they kept the desert interesting.

We stopped at Roy's Motel Cafe in Amboy and filled up. According to wikipedia Amboy has a population somewhere between 4 and 8, and we saw a few lively looking palm trees in the area. At the cafe we each picked up an unabashedly tourist, and amusing, Route Beer, as a souvenir from our trip.

Next stop was the Amboy Crater. In theory we could go climb it. But it was hot, and the two Ravens hovering nearby were looking a little too eager. We got back into the car and traveled further along.

Next stop was Calico. I didn't have high expectations for Calico. I'd read up and knew that most of it was reproductions build by Walter Knott (of Knott's berry farm). We paid our fee and walked up the paved road through the scattering of shack like buildings, and since we were hungry, went to the restaurant. We sat outside swatting flies, and when I saw the little train go by, I pretty much knew that my low expectations would be met.

I don't want to be mean to the theme-park like ghost town. For certain people, those who are actually afraid of ghost towns, and those that need to entertain small children, Calico might be just right. But it was cute. And I don't like my ghost towns cute. I want to be creeped out. And having already been to Bodie, which I would return to in a heartbeat, Calico didn't have great chances of usurping it's place in my heart anyway.

But the food was very good, though we worried about what it would do to our insides. After wards we made a brief trek through the little town, but didn't linger too long. We noted with amusement that we seemed to be the only people who spoke english, a majority of the visitors were from tour buses.

Luckily the car wasn't too boiling hot when we got inside and headed for Barstow. It was still early afternoon but we decided to take it easy. Theo had been talking about taking a dip in the swimming pool, but two things got in the way of that. One, it was the size of an enlarged kiddy pool. Two, it's location as centerpiece to the parking lot.

Still, we decided to go in anyway. But Theo's days of gleefully jumping into frigidly cold water are apparently over, and he daintily sat with his feet in the water for a few minutes. I made it up to my belly. We'd had enough.

We relaxed for the rest of afternoon, knitting and listening to Penny Arcade's D&D podcasts, letting our legs relax. Though somewhat traumatized by the heavy meals we'd indulged in, Barstow didn't have a lot to offer in the way of light, salad dining. We opted to go to a local place well-reviewed on Yelp, Lola's Kitchen. After feasting on delicious and cheap tacos and quesadillas, we went back to the hotel to take it easy for the rest of the evening.

We made a vow that if either of us were freezing in the night, they were allowed to turn the air conditioning off.

It's a Long Way to Needles...

2010-10-25T07:35:00.000-07:00

We set out about a half an hour later than we'd meant to, owed in part to Theo sleeping in and me not being prepared at all and still recovering from the surreal experience of my High School Reunion the night before. In Santa Monica the air was thick with fog, damp and cold and atmospheric. As we made our way east on the 10, the mist thickened into rain here and there, and the dense fog took out buildings and made the sky ominous.

When we got far enough east we broke free of the gloom and the sun hit us. We stared at the wind farms, entranced by the spinning blades, and missed our exit to get onto the 62.

Realizing this about 10 minutes later we turned around and stopped at a nearby In-N-Out for the traditional road-trip lunch. We got back on the road, admired the wind farm again, and got onto the 62. A few little towns lined the road, and I wasn't entirely certain whether we were seeing towns trying to be quaint, or actual quaintness. I suspected the latter. Theo and I also discussed living in the desert -- something he could imagine doing and I had little interest in.

Nervous and over-eager after his failure to get us onto the 62, Theo attempted to take us to the Joshua Tree Memorial Lawn, thinking it was the entrance to the actual park. Not interested in viewing the cemetery, I stopped him before we could actually turn in and we made the correct turn a few minutes later.

Per our discussion earlier, I dreaded getting out of the car and into the hot sun a little. But when we stepped outside I got a pleasant surprise -- cloud cover. The sky was a beautiful shade of dark blue that photographs fantastically, and thin sheets of clouds kept the sun from searing our skin. We stopped a few times at different pull offs before making the commitment to hike at Hidden Valley, an easy 1 mile hike with little grade. I admired the colors of the foliage and the blue of the sky. The rocks and rock-climbers were kind of interesting too -- but I've never been a big rock person.

As we came back towards the beginning a large, dark form broke free from some bushes to our left.

Theo was both interested and terrified, and once I pointed it out to nearby travelers the tarantula had a whole group of admirers taking it's photo. Satisfied with a few photos taken at a distance, Theo and I moved on. We paused, and were confused by, the Wonderland of Rocks. Which looked a lot like the other rocks we had seen. So we continued on to Barker Dam. Signposts along the way were a little less than helpful, but we made it to the mostly-dry dam anyway.

I took a few scenic shots. Further on we found the petroglyphs, and a pair of hikers who were sitting in them and ruining most photo-ops.

We got back to the car and hit the road again. After a brief, exciting section of unpaved road we were at the exit and back out on the 62. And we hit the most desolate road in CA.

We put on the Penny-Arcade D&D podcasts, I pulled out my knitting, and for a long time we drove through empty desert. We saw a lot more people heading in the other direction -- maybe going home after a weekend in Vegas? And the sun set over the brittle, desert mountains, turning them pink. After a few hours we were in Needles, and at our hotel. The man who checked me directed me to the two dinner options in the area -- Mexican or Dominoes.

After leaving our stuff in the spacious but nondescript room we went out to the Mexican place. In a previous life it might have belonged to a fast-food chain. Guessing that the ambiance inside wouldn't be much, we hit the drive through and both got cheese enchiladas and orange drinks. Theo explained to me how during his traveling days he drank mostly water to be cheap, but treated himself to orange fanta on occasion. To this day Orange fanta is his travel drink.

At our hotel we dug into cheap, saucy Mexican food and enjoyed it. We lay across our beds, watched some Better Off Ted, and went to sleep around 9:30pm with some sheepishness, the roar of the AC loud even to my hearing-impaired ears.

The Last Day...

2010-07-22T18:38:00.000-07:00

(originally drafted 7/8/10)

Our last full day went by too fast. I slept in, and when I woke up I was startled to discover we had a new roommate. The kitty moved too fast for me to get a good photo, apparently he didn't want to split the hotel fees, and somehow got out by climbing between the roof and the walls.

After that excitement we decided to walk to the Tulum ruins, but took a detour to stalk some crabs. At first we had little luck. I got too close to one that looked dead, thinking I had an easy subject, and it scuttled off. The rest we spotted were too far away to photograph. We walked a while and then decided to turn back, hoping a few more would have come out behind us.

We struck Mayan gold at this one puddle in the road. We got pictures (the ones posted earlier are actually from this trip), and video. We discovered if we stood still enough, the crabs would come over to investigate if we were rocks worth hiding behind. Too close for my taste, since they move like giant mechanized spiders.

Pleased with our amateur nature photography, we started down the road to the ruins. We walked, and walked, and walked... The ruins were much further away than we expected and we ran out of water on our way there. We tried to get there on the beach side and discovered we couldn't, forcing us to then double back.

We finally got there and went inside -- only to discover we were at the only Mayan site we'd been to where they *weren't* selling refrescos all over the place. We made a rather quick tour of the Mayan Port, decided not to go into the crowded stretch of ocean, and left.

Back at the hotel we indulged in fun drink and guacamole. About ten minutes after I needed a nap. I lay down and didn't get up for about two hours.

When I managed to revive myself we went in the ocean for a nice, long swim. Staying until our fingers pruned. Tech Support didn't want to get out, not wanting to end the moment.

But we got out and headed into Tulum for postage stamps and dinner. Tech Support asked a lady at the supermarket pharmacy for "estamp" and sent her pouring through medications. When she realized what he actually wanted, "estampas", she smiled and shook her head. We wondered what kind of treatment she'd thought he needed.

We found success at another pharmacy and then continued down the road to dinner. We discovered an Italian place that had been recommended to us, and decided to eat there.

The food was delicious. I impressed the owner by ordering a gin and tonic while Tech Support failed to impress with his order of lemonade. We sat and talked about our trip and going home and adventures. The store across the street kept the moment from getting too serious.

Rainy Days and Mayans Always Get Me...

2010-07-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

(Originally drafted 7/7/10)

Yesterday I met the naked man from the next cabana over. Turns out he's from Whitehorse Canada, in the Yukon. Which explains why he wants to go to warm places and take all his clothes off. He and his wife, who stayed more conservative in a bathing suit, signed up for the same tour that would take us to Chichen Itza, a cenote, and a colonial-style village.

We started in the pouring rain in Tulum. A short man named Florencio dictated the order of the day in English accented with Spanish and Mayan (his mother tongue). He and our driver, Robert, who had great English and a good sense of humor, were only there to transfer us from Copal to the larger tour. Too bad, because we quite liked them and got to know them while we waited for the tour bus in the parking lot of a super market. We had a little while, since the inclement weather was slowing things down.

Once we got on the larger bus it was about 2 and a half hours to Chichen Itza. Our tour guide, gave a long bilingual speech about the history of the Mayans and Chichen Itza. We stopped at a tourist trap to stretch our legs, and avoided buying any Mayan calendars.

It was raining at Chichen Itza but the air was still hot. We struggled to hear our guide, but I enjoyed what little information I caught. We learned the Chichen Itza is actually smaller than Coba (which apparently was the capital city), but far more cleared of jungle. Visitors can no longer climb the main pyramid, which was okay with me since my legs were sore from the day before. Getting in and out of the bus even hurt.

My favorite part were the stone carvings, and the hook-nosed serpent imagery, which reminded me of my studies of ancient Chinese art. I also found the Mayan spiritual basketball courts very interesting. They were shaped differently than the ones at Coba, with straight walls rather than slanted ones.

After an hour the tour guide stopped to let us go on our own. We left the other group, some of whom seemed more interested in posing in front of the ruins than the ruins themselves, and wandered without real direction. Tech Support pondered over why a city would be abandoned. I suggested that the main industry had moved on. I admired the iguanas and birds of the area. We shook our heads at the men trying to sell us $1 wooden masks. We discussed that Inspector Gadget episode that everyone of a certain generation must have seen, that involved Mayan pyramids. We pondered the selflessness of the Penny character, she never seemed to mind Gadget getting all the credit. And how was Gadget her Uncle?

After checking out the sacrificial cenote, we headed back to the bus, stopping only for souvenirs and post cards. We boarded the bus and drove a short distance for lunch.

We sat and ate lunch with our Cabana neighbors and enjoyed their company more than the food. The rice and beans okay, the tacos decent, and the spaghetti strange with a tomato sauce that tended toward soup. While we ate three women danced, a funny tap routine with beer bottles balanced on their heads. As we left they stood by the door with a hat for tips, and I noticed I was a good head taller than all of them.

Next we visited a cenote. We opted not to swim. Tech Support was still feeling traumatized by his last visit to a cenote, which ended in lung fungus. It was pretty neat though, with fish in the water and bats fluttering above. If we had been there for more than 30 minutes, I might deserted Tech Support for the water.

Back in our overly perfumed bus and onto a Colonial Mayan village. Here we only had 20 minutes, not enough to do much. But we enjoyed the architecture style and feeling of being in a real city where people did things besides try to sell Mayan calendars to tourists (though there was that too).

On our way back to Tulum I dozed against Tech Support. After being dropped off, we joined our friends from the frozen north for dinner. We wound up at a busy looking restaurant that had pretty good food. Of course we tried the guacamole. We had a lot of fun together and stayed out later than we'd been up all week. Afterward we all piled into a Taxi together. Our driver was one of the friendlier that we'd met. He'd lived in the area for 23 years and as we sped to our Cabanas and veered around crabs, he explained that they were crossing the road for mating season.

When we got to Copal I couldn't see the Cabana it was so dark.

We Finally Do Something

2010-07-13T20:15:00.000-07:00

(originally drafted 7/6/10)

Yesterday we finally left the beach. We ate breakfast at Copal's restaurant, I had french toast which had been encrusted in sugar. I also rediscovered my hatred of papaya. Tech Support discovered he hated it too.

It began to pour as we met up with our cab driver, a young man named Felipe. He raced us through the ran at terrifying speeds. The plastic grim reaper perched on his dashboard did not provide reassurance, even if it was from a kids show on Cartoon Network.

After about five minutes it stopped raining. We drove through thick, dense, jungle. A mess of trees and vines that hid anything further than a few feet in. Occasionally we'd pass a lone business, selling something odd like pools.

It was very interesting for someone more used to driving through farmland.

It took about an hour to get to Coba (pronounced Co-pa), where Felipe directed us toward the ticket booth and then left us on our own. We made our way inside, with very little knowledge about where it was we were going. Soon enough we stumbled upon crumbling enigmatic Mayan pyramids and ruins. Here and there were other tour groups, some in English, and scruffy looking men offering to give us tours, but we made our way on our own.

We opted not to bike down the pathways, but strolled down paths enclosed on either side by the dense jungle. I heard lots of bird song, but couldn't spot many of them.

Without a guide, map, or clue, we found the main attraction in Coba, a very, very, very, very steep temple that you can clime.

Hot and sweaty already due to the weather and walk, we rested a few minutes before tackling the slope. Once I started climbing, keeping my hands on the steps in front of me, I didn't stop. A girl climbing nearby made the mistake of pausing to look down and declared that she was done.

Up top I panted and sweat and looked out over the top of the jungle. An absolute sea of green broken only by the top of one of the other pyramids, and the ocean.

The steps looked more frightening from the top than the bottom. We took our time to recover and enjoy the view before going down. I kept a tight hold on the rope and my eyes on my feet. At the bottom we stopped to pant and sweat again. I've hiked around Kyoto in the summer -- this was worse.

There was one other temple area that we hadn't seen, but we were done. We paused only to admire lizards and strange flora as we made our way back to the parking lot and Felipe.

He took us back to Tulum, where it still drizzled. After a nice chilly shower we walked down the road, it wasn't much past noon, and had lunch and cerveza's. As usual, we also had the guacamole.

The rest of the day was spent in the usual dissipation of reading in the shade and floating in the warm water. We retired to our Cabana and I sat down to write, noticing a few minutes later something moving around at the bottom of our door. A bug. A large bug. I went over to open the door and discovered a handsome, black beetle climbing up our exterior wall.

Unfortunately, that would bring it into our Cabana. And while it was a handsome beetle we still felt odd about having another roommate. For a little while Tech Support waged war with our little friend, who seemed determined to climb up the same way. Tech Support even flung the little bugger on the roof, thinking that was where it wanted to go. But it came back down to our doorstep and started up again.

Finally, Tech Support transplanted it to base of a Cabana we felt fairly certain to be empty, and we withdrew to our own. I gazed out the window, pondering the life and struggles of a large beetle in Mexico, and Tech Support teased me when--

Something large and black flew by the window. We found an overturned beetle by the plants out front. Tech Support righted it and then ran inside when it started flying again. In the end, we feel fairly certain it would up in a tree.

We saw no further activity, and are not certain whether we were haunted by one, or two, beetles.

The storm started up again, and we gave into laziness and munching on chips rather than going into town. Tech Support realized my side of the bed was getting doused with water, and scrambled outside to put down the plastic sheeting. Rain still came through the top, open screens.

I went to sleep during a calmer period, and woke again to fat raindrops hitting my skin. The rain came down so hard it rivaled the roar of the ocean for volume. Lighting flashed, and a dozen seconds later there was loud thunder.

Somehow I went back to sleep.

Still Taking It Easy

2010-07-11T09:44:00.000-07:00

(originally written 7/5/10)

Independence day passed without any fireworks in Tulum. We started the day with another dip in the Ocean. The water is so warm it's easy to stay in until our hands wrinkle up.

Once we got out we settled in for some reading and iguana watching, an easy substitute for television. After a little of that we decided to walk into Tulum. A 30-40 minute walk. A long walk. But worth it. At first we only saw crab carcasses, which we attributed to bird activity, then, up ahead, I saw one of those angular, insect-like bodies creep across the path.

We spotted more in little puddles to our left, smaller red crabs and big blue ones. They were leaving the jungle and trying to cross the two-lane road. We wondered what they imagined was on the other side. At least drivers were swerving to avoid them, and we saw a sign on the way back urging them to do so ("help them, don't smash them"), but a few had not made it.

Tech Support and I ruminate over the life of the jungle crab as we continued into the city. We finally arrived and took care of a few errands. We then made our way over to the more downtown, "centro" area.

On a Sunday afternoon not a whole lot was going on. Restaurant owners stood outside looking bored. We picked a place and sat down. A man wearing no shirt and carrying a machete walked by. A few minutes later a fight broke out across the street. A passing transit cop paused and turned on his lights, but did not get out of his car.

As we drove back I noticed a Federal Police station about 300 feet from where the fight had happened.

We got back without hitting any crabs. Tech Support set up some adventures for the next two days and we lay out to do some more reading and nature watching. Everyone here is reading "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo", the acid yellow cover easy to spot all along the beach.

Not me though, I already read it.

We went into the water again and took our goggles. After looking at kelp and sand for a few minutes we settled for floating in the ocean.

After our 3rd shower of the day we decided to have a light dinner at Copal's restaurant. A tiny crab flung itself at Tech Support's ankle, startling both of them. The crab played dead for a while before scuttling off, startling Tech Support again. We saw other little crabs, and so did the cats, alien kitty had a slender orange friend this time. But they lost interest when the crabs played dead.

We went back to our Cabana. There were storms during the night again, and I woke up to the spray of rain on my body.

Do Nothing Well

2010-07-10T08:27:00.001-07:00

(originally written 7/4/10)

There really isn't a whole lot of interest that went on yesterday. We spent a majority of our time out front of our Cabana, reading or napping. I finished my Wallander novel, since I only have two more books with me I'll have to pace them out.

As usual, I am enjoying the wildlife. Besides the impressive iguanas, there are lots of little lizards with striped backs, many missing tails (perhaps due to the cat mentioned later in the post). The pelicans here look different than the ones I'm used to, sleeker. There are some other birds, but my only view of most of them is from below as they soar in the ever-present wind here. There is a little black bird with a long, broad tail that makes it look like a balsa-wood toy plane. It has a pretty song. Every now and then I catch a flash of bright yellow. Oriels maybe.

This morning I watched what looked like a wasp dig a hole in the ground big enough to disappear into. It flung sand an impressive distance. Then, buried the hole up.

I need guide-books for these things.

Yesterday afternoon we trekked out of Copal and down the road toward a mini-mart. There are a lot of other hotels down that way, but not many people. We're not in high season. Most of the restaurants were empty. We picked up some chips and fanta and went back to our reading. The doritos here taste different, like they were made for people who like strong flavor. I like them.

For dinner we went to Copal's restaurant. There we met up with a kitty that we had also seen during breakfast. He or she is a tiny thing, with a long skinny tail like a rat. But despite being quite slender, he looks healthy. Probably because he goes from table to table suckering people like me and Tech Support into tossing him chicken and shrimp. He knows how to work it too. he ignored our table until we were served, then came and sat next to us until we were done, at which point he promptly disappeared.

Thunder storms rolled in late in the afternoon. It poured on and off all through dinner. The cooler (but not by any means cool) air was welcome. it stopped long enough that I got to see my first ever fire-flies in person as we walked back to our Cabana from dinner.

Tech Support let me have the window side of the bed because I was so hot. Air blowing in from the windows helped me get to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, pelted by rain coming through the screen, then went back to sleep.

Waiting for Transporter Technology

2010-07-09T22:18:00.000-07:00

(originally written 7/3/10)

Except for hour-long flights to and from San Jose, I hate flying. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Unfortunately, I love being in new places.

Yesterday's plane ride was not the one to change my mind. For starters, we had to get up at 4am. I'd only gone to bed around midnight and had not slept well. In fact, I felt like I'd only fallen asleep when Tech Support turned the light on.

I do like seeing that city that early in the morning. We were almost the only car out. We passed another taxi. I resisted the urge to wave.

After that it all blurs into a dull misery of lines and small seats. I dozed for most of the ride to Phoenix. On the plane to Cancun I read about people dying in cold and miserable Sweden. Our seatmate turned out to be an ex-patriot. Once a marine who'd been to South Asia, he now lives in Playa Del Carmen with some dogs and a bunch of chickens. He doesn't eat eggs, he just likes the company.

When we arrived in Cancun I was instantly overwhelmed. Seemed like everyone wanted to talk to us, sell us something, etc. We pushed through the mass and found our ride after a wrong turn, and after an hour and a half of driving through the jungle, we were shown to our little cabana by the sea.

It was beautiful, and hot, and wonderful, and I was too exhausted to really appreciate it. My head hurt, and nothing felt familiar. We took a walk on the beach, discovered a conspicuously empty sushi bar, naked people, and the pleasure of warm water on our feet.

At night it got dark, real dark, since there is no electricity. We lit candles and giggled as we slid across the inclined floor from our rustic bathroom to the main area. I settled under the mosquito net and fell asleep at about 8:30pm. Even though I woke up a few times, by morning I felt better.

First thing we went down into the water. Perfect temperature. No good for boogie boarding though. We saw more naked people, these ones less burned than the ones from yesterday. A topless lady exercised with a hula-hoop while her robust husband took pictures. Though this was not my crowd, I was having a great time watching them.

After a breakfast that involved jalapeno peppers, we headed back to our Cabana. Today's plan is to take it easy.

When I sat down to write this, a dozen feet from our front door, some kids were playing. They chased a very large lizard past my chair. When I looked up I noticed there were more, half a dozen, sunning themselves on some rocks nearby.

I've never been into lizards -- I don't even like dinosaurs. But now I get it. These magnificent beast-lizards are nothing like the drab little tail droppers I grew up with. They are handsome iguanas. And if you stand still enough, they'll get pretty close.

While standing on the rocks watching the lizards we spotted another naked man. He flailed inelegantly on the rocks below, an odd counterpoint to the beauty of nature we'd been admiring.

2010 So Far...

2010-01-03T15:48:00.001-08:00

The Hyper-Realist Place on Earth

2009-10-16T08:28:00.001-07:00

I know I'm supposed to look on the place as some kind of gluttonous monument to capatalism, a wasteful, overpriced, and unnatural way to spend the afternoon.

And even my boss, who does not view the place as any of the above, expressed confusion over my reference to a day spent there with Tech Support as romantic.

And yes, I guess I can see how spending an overcast and drizzling day in a theme park based, loosely, around a talking mouse and his friends and the dreams of a man who died over 40 years ago, might not be considered the perfect date. But then, I've never really been a champagne and chocolate strawberries kind of girl.

This morning I asked Tech Support: "Do you think Disneyland is romantic?"
"What?! Huh?! Yeah, I guess," he exclaimed defensively. He had only gotten out of bed about three minutes earlier.

The day was cool, the sky overcast, intermittent rain drifted down and scared away crowds, keeping the lines short. We walked around for hours, chatting about things both deep and shallow, and laughed over the ridiculous. Then, with Tech Supports thrilled whoops of joy from riding Space Mountain still lingering in my ears, we went home.

But we did not go on It's A Small World.

Sweat The Small Stuff

2009-09-25T08:53:00.000-07:00

The other night I had an epiphany. I'd known for months that part of the reason writing my book has taken so long is because I spent almost a year trying to polish scenes and plot points that didn't work -- an effect that is like constantly rearranging furniture in a house with no bathroom or windows. But I hadn't fully understood why I did this, besides being buried in denial about having built a house with no bathroom or windows.

Then it came to me -- I'd been too obsessed with the details. Why? Because I love the details in books. That's what make books worth reading to me. Those little bits of information that build onto a whole and offer insight and truth.

But you need to have a whole first.

I remember watching the movie about Ed Wood years ago, and thinking that he had all the enthusiasm in the world but didn't realize he needed to pay attention to the details. Part of the reason I decided not to go into film despite having a degree was my hatred for the details involved. I hated figuring out the fstop of lighting, the frame rate of film, where the music needed to swell. I loved the stories, I didn't care at all about the technicalities.

Meanwhile, I love working on the details of my real house (which thankfully has a bathroom and windows). At some point in the last two years I realized that if I wanted my house to look a certain way, I'd have to Do It Myself. Perhaps if I had a large disposable income I could hire someone, but even then, I fear I'm too much of a control freak.

I don't have any particular style or goal. I don't know Interior Design, but I know what I like -- A little Jane Austen, a little Steam Punk, and anything else that hits my fancy.

I made those curtains. I'm proud.

The apartment overlords must have realized I'm on a home decorating mood, because they helpfully removed large parts of the trees outside (a bit too much perhaps) and now my patio is getting more light than ever.

Details... details...

Paperback Writer

2009-09-20T12:31:00.000-07:00

The first real completed draft, the draft where the importance of having a good plot on which to build good writing finally sank into my dense skull, is done and weighs in at 104,233. At 250-300 words per page, I've written a whole lot of pages.

Time for a break. Step back, get a little perspective so I can be critical of the New Improved Plot. Get back to the blogging I stopped doing when life got busy and I got so focused on my writing that writing anything else inspired mental tantrums.

Meanwhile though, I have continued to use the donabe.

I love that all you need to do to make something in the donable is chop some stuff, saute some stuff, and then throw the lid over it. Nothing takes more than 1/2 an hour to prepare.

Here's a picture of my writing partner and his associates. Every morning I get up before Tech Support, around 7am, make tea, and do some writing -- and I never lack company. Now that I'm on break from writing, I'm not sure what I'll do. I'll figure something out. And I'm guaranteed company.

The Paradox

2009-08-17T19:23:00.000-07:00

Last month I was overwhelmed with house guests, conferences, work and fun. I had a lot to blog about but either lacked time or energy. This month life has returned to normal and I've got time and energy and not much to blog about.

Sure, I could toss up another picture of a donabe and yakisoba and you'd show polite (and perhaps genuine) interest. However, I must admit my own creative inspiration needs a little more to work with than, 'look! yakisoba! yummy!'

So, nostalgia!

The Blackirby B & B hosted the young Kitchen Gnome for another visit, and at the same time the Aunt from Santa Cruz came down for some fun.

We overcame a combination of laziness and weariness of the Los Angeles Freeway system and made it out to Pasadena and the Gamble House.

I'd been there before, years ago. I don't rave over everything Arts and Crafts, but I admire it. The houses in the neighborhood I grew up in were beautiful, turn of the century bungalows of a similar asthetic. Sometimes I miss them.

All the polished wood, the carvings, the carefully chosed furniture, made me want to run home, tear down the apartment building, and start over. For now, I'll settle on continuing to work on the parts of my apartment that I can change (more on that someday...).

(I advised Tech Support that this would be a fun place to take his Mom.)

After the Gamble House we went over to the Huntington and had lunch. We wandered through the exhibits, finding even a little more Green & Green for my Aunt's inexhaustible appetite. We then went out and sweltered with the plants (it was a hot day).

And then we were done. (Except for some traffic, but we're being nostalgic and have already forgotten about it).

And for just five dollars more...

2009-08-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

As promised, the night before last, Tech Support came home to curry yakisoba.

I'd planned on saving some for lunch the next day, but wound up finishing it off instead.

Then, last night we did the Kurobuta Bulgogi.

That too was delicious. Both dishes were too easy to make, requiring only a little sauteing, piling everything up and putting the lid on top for a few minutes. I feel like I'm cheating, or part of an infomercial for obscure Japanese clay pots.

Entering My Experimental Phase

2009-08-11T19:02:00.000-07:00

I've been reading Naoko's blog for at least two years. Who knows where she gets the energy to work hard, make dinner, and then blog about it almost every day, but I'm grateful. Over the past year or so she's started using and importing Japanese Donabe, clay pots. She makes it look good.

I wanted one.

I had a birthday.

Tech Support is a wonderful boyfriend.

And in return for being so, he gets a large share of smoked salmon and asparagus. Tonight he's getting curry yakisoba, and later this week he'll get kurobuta pork bulgogi.

One Thing (One Thing) Leads to Another...

2009-07-12T09:29:00.000-07:00

I figured out how to make ricotta gnocchi sometime within the last year. Since it was so easy to freeze and cook up and so tasty I wound up making it 5-6 times within a number of weeks. Tech Support's eyes turned the color of tomato cream sauce and he said "Ricotta gnocchi again?" like a man facing a firing squad. After finishing up the last frozen bag-full I laid off of the ricotta for several months.

Months and months later, the Kitchen Gnome in town, and Meggish and her Nick due for dinner, it was time to dive into the gnocchi once more. For kicks I decided to make the version from Apples for Jam which is simpler than the Cooks Illustrated version, but has a tomato pesto sauce.

Good food and good company go well together.

Though I'd seen it done and understood the basics, I'd never made pesto before that night. The tangy, garlic infused sauce inspired me and within the same week I had to make it again. I also made focaccia (a name I will never pronounce correctly), using Apples for Jam's recipe for that too. I laid it all out with some feta cheese.

Despite having forgotten to put salt in the focaccia, it made a wonderful, snacky dinner.

I'm going to lay off the tomato pesto for a bit though, to make sure Tech Support doesn't get sick of it too soon.

Don't Do It Half-Way

2009-06-30T09:56:00.000-07:00

When we got to the booth the lights were on bright. Everyone sat down, but after a moment I got back up again and headed for the knob on the opposite wall.

That's better. Karaoke was not meant to in the harsh light of reality. After all, who are we kidding? We're not there because we're talented singers on the way to the top. We're not practicing. We're not going to be the next White Stripes or Patsy Cline.

But we like to pretend.

To karaoke properly you have to put your whole body into it. That's why I don't do karaoke bars. I'm not interested in exposing myself to strangers that way.

In the comfortable companionship of friends and family, the lights dim, the sound turned up loud -- we rock. I lay down across one seat and start taking pictures at odd angles, timed to be blurry and indistinct.

I'm operating on far too little sleep. The plot of my story still vexes me. Everyone else is dealing with the stress of daily life. But belting out Major Tom, 1234, Kids, Wheel of Fortune, I love College, Starlight, and whatever Japanese songs have tickled J-Po's fancy, who really cares about such petty crap?

After all, I can do a mean version of Jealous Guy.

I think embarrassed is spelled wrong

2009-06-27T08:34:00.000-07:00

If I were in charge I would spell it emberass. Actually, I spell it that way on a regular basis, but an awful red underline forces me to change it into the 'correct' spelling. Pah!

Moving on. Though I can put on a good show, I've discovered that having a single night of bad sleep can throw me off for the next several days. I slept poorly on Tues, okay on Weds, and well Thursday night, but by the end of work on Friday I was falling asleep on a student who'd come in for a private lesson. Luckily I still managed to help her fix her lace, which she proclaimed 'saved her life'.

On the bus ride home I contemplated dinner. We were supposed to do burgers. I was so tired. Yawning tired. I ran through a list of local restaurants in my head, and argued with myself internally.

Pro: I am tired and won't have to do anything if I let those nice peoples make my dinner.

Con: I will feel like a weak failure and probably won't enjoy the ill-gotten food that much.

The fact that we were eating out all weekend pushed me back into the "no, I will be STRONG!" arena of thinking (though I suffered a setback when I realized I had also planned on making fries). Then a blast of inspiration, what if I topped the burgers with caramelized balsamic onions and brie? Memories of the burger at the Bistro in Independence tantalized me.

I think this is why I get lazy about cooking sometimes, I seem determined to always make more work for myself.

But surprisingly, the fries and the onions were very easy to make and didn't require much more than slicing and putting over heat.

Tech Support came home and I put him in charge of the burgers.

In about a half an hour, we had brie burgers. Not quite as good as the ones in Independence, I think we needed a milder brie, but delicious anyway. Very satisfying after a long day of saving lives.

In The Family

2009-06-25T14:41:00.001-07:00

On Sunday a Kitchen Gnome showed up.

And I got him to do the dishes somehow. He also helped me make Pasta alla Norma which I discovered in the latest issue of Cooks Illustrated. I like eggplant, but have had issues with cooking it before (so have other people, I've received eggplant dishes that were entirely too firm from restaurants). This dish had some creative way of cooking the eggplant to guarantee it wouldn't be chewy and unpleasant.

And it wasn't.

The next morning the Kitchen Gnome got to work with my Cooks Illustrated baking book, and by the afternoon, this had appeared.

Yum!

Poseidon Worship

2009-06-22T09:07:00.000-07:00

June gloom has been aggressively persistent this year. I didn't even realize it was summer until the sun came out about a week ago. We were all set to go to the beach on Sunday with Meggish and her husband, but Meggish's schoolwork got in the way. The morning was cold and overcast, but I still demanded we go down to the beach and say hello to the summer ocean.

Intimidated by the cloudy sky, we didn't get into our bathing suits -- a mistake. Once I touched the water I wanted to get my whole body into the waves. But, there are still several months of summer. We settled for getting significantly splashed.

I haven't been food blogging lately because I've been making a lot of dishes that I've already blogged about. I'm quite proud of my repertoire, but at a certain point it comes off more like taunting and less like a journal. Ala: I made Chicken Tikka Masala again last night, and it was even better this time. You shoulda been here.

Sunday night though, I pulled out Let's Cook Japanese Food! and tried a new one. Spicy ground beef curry with vegetables. Tech Support was in charge of vegetable prep and I think he did a delightful job.

I love colorful food. I think that presentation is definitely a part of an enjoyable meal, though sometimes I'm too lazy to bother. Of course, after cooking these vegetables for a bit and adding the bright yellow curry, they had lost some of their shine.

Perhaps not the most beautiful presentation, and my shots are still coming out blurry, but it was pretty tasty.

Rainy Days and Mondays...

2009-06-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

I've made a lot of mistakes writing my book. The kind of mistakes I had to make in order to learn how to be a writer. But still. Big Mistakes. Frustrating Mistakes. Tiring Mistakes.

I spend hours in my kitchen/office. From the window and brief ventures outside I see the sky is clear and blue. The morning glories or the jasmine or some flower is blooming. Birds are chirping in one of the trees. Southern California has gorgeous weather and wonderful days 95% of the year. They're hard to escape.

I let the blinds down low. I stare at the computer screen. I angst. I need to go get some whipping cream for desert tonight but I can't get myself to go outside again.

Monday something clicked. The writing flowed. Went places I didn't expect. New places I was excited to go. Tuesday I'm still going. Nervous flutterings have started in my stomach. This can't last. This won't last. There's something horribly wrong that I'm not seeing. Tomorrow I'll look over what I wrote today and discover that it's pure trash.

Wednesday morning I go over yesterday's writing. I like it. I love it. I have to go to the work that actually earns money.

Wednesday night sees me at massive coffeehouse chain. There were no seats inside so I'm stuck outside, waiting for over 45 minutes (at least I was forewarned) for Tech Support to join me for dinner at the intersection of two busy streets. The day is gray, it rained earlier. The two men sitting next to me are having a loud conversation in a foreign language. My drink is too hot and every time I put it down a little bit spills.

What a wonderful day. I can hardly wait for the next.

The Long Road Home

2009-05-27T21:15:00.000-07:00

We'd stayed in a B&B, a roadside motel, a cabin, a chain hotel, and we finished up the trip in a suite with a view of the ocean.

I enjoyed each style of lodging for very different reasons. On the last day of our trip I took great pleasure in sitting by one of the windows with the ocean view, breathing in the salt air and looking at the ocean through the binoculars they'd provided.

I'd missed the sea. The mountains along the 395 had a jagged majesty that overwhelmed the landscape. Traveling alongside them, I'd seen how someone might be a mountain person. Waking up in the morning and looking out at the massive landscapes, always part of the view no matter how built up the city, had been a pleasure.

But I'm an ocean girl. I love the cool breeze, the crash of the waves and even the smell of rotting kelp.

After another continental breakfast, I dragged Tech Support out for what was to be a short walk.

We headed up the wooden walkway, toward the park at the north end where Meggish and Nick got married over a year ago. There was road construction in the way, so we couldn't get all the way there without climbing along the shore.

We met two little bunnies along the way. The lady at the Fogcatcher said they were some kind of dwarf cotton tale, a wild version of the dutch miniature. They definitely weren't much larger than the fat, fat squirrels which threatened to chase us down and paw through our pockets for food.

There were beautiful wildflowers in bloom.

On a whim, I decided to drag us down to the beach to look at the tide pools. I read Cannery Row for the first time about a month ago, and Steinbeck's vivid descriptions had stuck with me. But I didn't see any octopi murdering any crabs, though I did see some crabs.

And sea anenomes.

And star fish.

And eventually we noticed this handsome harbor seal watching our progress toward him. We watched him with equal care, until eventually we noticed we were surrounded by at least 3 other harbor seals sunning themselves awkwardly.

This one climbed up onto the rocks while we watched, and then proceeded to do his best imitation of The Little Mermaid.

While standing out on the rocks we met an older couple who'd seen otters out in the ocean the day before, when they hadn't had their cameras. They had an accent, but I couldn't tell if they were from Britian or New Zealand. They'd been in Palm Springs and found the chilly weather in Cambria a bit shocking. Their son was trying to decide between medical schools in San Francisco and San Diego, and had almost been seduced by the sunny weather of the latter.

After all those comments on the cold weather I became convinced they were from New Zealand, as I think England is cold year-round.

We were feeling pretty cold by then ourselves, and were startled to discover we'd been out and about for over an hour. We packed up and got back on the road about a half an hour later than we'd intended.

In Lompoc we had a picnic and movie date with my parents. At their complex we found an ill acting little sparrow sitting in the middle of the road. Tech Support attempted to transplant the poor thing onto the grass using a newspaper, to at least get it out of the street, and ended up re-enacting a scene from "The Birds" instead.

We had our picnic at La Purisima, which has to be one of my favorite of the missions. They have a lot of land to hike around on, as well as animals and gardens.

After lunch my mother and I had to pay our respects to the resident bull. We both have a crush on bully, which my mother has written about on her own blog.

Next road trip I go on, I have to remember to take a hair tie.

My father, wanting to be sure we wouldn't be late for the movie, took us on a whirl-wind tour of the mission buildings.

He hikes around the mission about 3-4 times a week, leaves flowers on the grave of the padre, and has favorite pieces of art and furniture.

Apparently one day they even let him up on the bell tower.

After the mission I had to stop by at a nearby fruit stand and pick up a half-flat of strawberries for half of what they would cost in Los Angeles.

Thanks to dad's speedy tour we were more than on time to see Star Trek. Though I'd already seen it twice before I was happy to see it again. I also knew that the only way I could get my mother to see it was by dragging her there myself.

Determined not to confuse anyone about what goes on in the building, their local theater is called "The Movies." Tech Support, used to Los Angeles prices, had two twenties out and ready before the cashier told us the total was $14. About half what it would cost in Los Angeles.

The theater was about half of a Los Angeles theater too. The screen about half as wide and tall. The volume about half as loud. At least they ran the entire movie. The experience was charming.

My mother loved the movie.

After that interlude we were back on the road again.

"Zoom!"

We hit that part of the 101, just north of Santa Barbara, that snakes through some hills and spits us out by the ocean and always makes me feel like we're on the home stretch.

Then we hit that area of Santa Barbara that I hate.

Traffic was not something I missed, but since it was memorial day weekend I was expecting it. We crawled along behind a green Toyota Corolla for about an hour. The navigation system in Tech Support's new Element cheerfully kept us apraised of the fact that this should only have taken five minutes.

At one point we saw smoke, and worried that another big fire was up ahead. It turned out to be someone's car, the entire thing engulfed in flames. The traffic continued on for another fifteen minutes before we finally picked up speed again.

Another train to wave at.

We stopped in Oxnard at Cabo, recommended to us by my parents, and absolutely gorged ourselves on mexican food. By the time we were done we wanted a nap far more than we wanted to get back on the road.

The navigation system was far kinder to us this time, reassuring us that we were only about an hour away from our final destination. I convinced Tech Support to take the 1, so we could return home along the coast rather than traveling through the valley on the 101.

The ocean was an endless darkness to our right. Eventually I saw bright lights, and knew we were almost home.

Back To The Coast

2009-05-26T07:44:00.000-07:00

The best night of sleep I got on the trip was in the clean, functional room of the Holiday Inn in Fresno. Thanks in no small part to the blackout curtains, which efficiently kept out all rays of sunlight. We got up and stumbled around a little later than usual, getting ready to leave in time for our next stop.

Down in the lobby I competed with an entire wedding party for attention. Their arrangement for an early check-in had gone wrong and the young women of the party were not pleased. I couldn't blame them, and didn't want to get in their way. At my first chance I checked with the lady behind the desk to make sure they didn't need anything else from me, and fled the scene.

Downstairs in the parking lot, more of the wedding party stood together looking anxious and impatient.

Tech Support and I backtracked up the 99, headed for the Forestiere Underground Gardens. It was conveniently located across the street from a McDonalds and we had just enough time to get breakfast, shove it down our throats, and be the last people they let into the gates.

The underground gardens were pretty interesting.

A citrus farmer from Sicily had come to the US in the early 1900s and bought terrible land unsuitable for any kind of farming. Instead of farming, the man became obsessed with digging an underground resort, and it seemed like eventually he was just obsessed with digging. He was at it until his death, about 40 years total.

We skipped on Hearst Castle, which we had done before but I wanted to do a different tour, in favor of doing this and in the end I was glad. Wandering around the cool, hobbit den of this farmer in Fresno was a very unique experience. Tech Support was fascinated and delighted, even though he had to duck most of the time since the man who'd dug the place was 5' 8" and hadn't imagined that anyone taller would come into his tunnels.

Since he was a citrus farmer originally he did have some trees planted down in his underground lair, with plenty of open sunlights above them. Not only that, but he was majorly into grafting. There were lots of decades old trees there with some of the original grafts remaining. It made me think of Uncle Bob and his experiments with rose grafts on apple trees.

After the roughly hour-long tour, it was time to get outta Fresno.

In my family, you always have to wave at the train.

We continued along on the 41, which took us from the farmland covered 99 highway to the farmland covered 5 highway. The view provided mainly farmland. Eventually we hit an aquaduct, with egrets poised along the edges of the water, and that was pretty exciting.

There had to be some kind of old-car-festival-thing going on, because we passed at least 20 restored vehicles that were at least 50 years old. They didn't come all at once, but in clumps that we saw throughout the day. Unfortunately, moving vehicles are difficult to take pictures of from other moving vehicles.

We damaged ourselves at a fast food restaurant for lunch, then continued into Paso Robles area, heading north on the 101 until we got to Mission San Miguel.

I'd never been there before, at least not that I recall. It's a sweet little mission that is being used by a Novitiate of Franciscan Monks (I have no idea if I've said that right at all) and is heavily under restoration.

Outside was a bell that had a large, laminated sheet of paper on it saying "Do Not Ring This Bell". So of course while we were there a man came out, grabbed the warning sign, and rang the bell. I wanted a hoard of angry monks to descend on him, but it didn't happen.

Tech Support spent a lot of the day ducking.

After that we were back on the road again, going down the 101 to Templeton to visit Tech Support's Step-Grandma Sylvia. Sylvia's parents had started a winery there quite a long time ago, and though the winery has been sold in the last 10 years, Sylvia got to keep her house. From her living room you can look out on hills full of vines and baby olive trees and horses, with very few buildings to mar the view. Sylvia says her friends keep asking when she's moving into town, but she isn't planning on anytime soon, despite the troubles she's been having with raccoons lately.

After a too-brief but pleasant visit, we headed out of vine-country.

Our stop for the day was Cambria, where I'd booked a suite at the Fogcatcher Inn, a place I've stayed several times in the past. We had over an hour to kill before our reservations at a nearby restaurant, so we went outside to look at the ocean.

But it was so windy, I couldn't really see much. I need to remember to bring hair ties on these trips. Still, after spending several days away from the salty sea air, it was nice to be back.

Once again we re-discovered the aggressive Cambrian ground squirrel.

These guys are fat. And some of them charge at you when they see you, hoping you have a peanut or something else wonderful to feed them. Don't let their small furry bodies fool you, we were a bit intimidated.

Tech Support is getting good at the one-handed photo.

For dinner that night we went to Robin's Restaurant, where Meggish had her wedding reception a little over a year ago. I was very excited because I knew the food would be good. Even better, our reservation got us a cute little table tucked into a quiet nook off the main area. We could look out and see the others, but it was like we had our own private area. Very romantic.

And the food was good too.

California is a Land of Contrasts

2009-05-23T22:04:00.001-07:00

All along this trip we've come across information boards that say things like "Wilderness Has Many Intrinsic Values" (which sounded like a justification) and ask questions like "How else have these animals adapted to the climate?" (which is what I wanted the board to tell me). At some point in Bodie, I believe, we came across one that said "Bodie is a city of Contrasts." As per usual, we were not impressed.

However, I can now say that California is a land of contrasts. We started out the day in a cute little cabin besides a bubbling creek, and ended it in a business hotel attached to a casino.

Let's start at the cabin.

An absolutely adorable lodging at the Virginia Creek Settlement just outside Bridgeport. The creek could be viewed from our porch or the windows of the living room area.

Our first dilemma of the day was where to eat breakfast. Unfortunately we had two strong possibilities in the area, the well known Whoa Nellie Deli near the enterance of Yosemite and the Hay's Street Cafe in Bridgeport. Ultimately we decided to go with the cafe, which had been recommended to us by Virginia in Kern River and again by my mother.

Fishing is a big deal in Bridgeport. Our cabin had fishing paraphernalia all over the walls and we watched kids sit on the creek with little rods and tackle. The Hay's Street Cafe has different hours for "Fishin' Season" and "Freezin' Season" and I could imagine a lot of the patrons there doing both. Breakfast was delicious and we enjoyed an almost 360 degree view of the mountains from the windows.

We took the 395 back down through Lee Vining and took the 120 into Yosemite. Here was our first contrast, as we climbed altitude and entered some kind of alternative winter wonderland.

It was cold, and the lake was still partially frozen over.

The east enterence to the park is closed for the winter and had only recently been opened. The roads were lined on either side with snow that had been plowed out of the way.

After going back down a couple thousand feet the snow dwindled into little puddles. Tech Support got out and decided to be silly.

As we got closer to the Valley, the snow disappeared entirely and it got hot.

Down in the Valley it was crowded. I'd been forewarned, but I was still overwhelmed after being spoiled in Manzanar and Bodie with relatively few other tourists. We were directed to park a short ways away from the visitors center, and entered the fray around the area.

After having our fill of exhibits on granite, John Muir, and the Awahnee people, we went and had lunch at the Awahnee.

Tech Supprt fretted over what hike to take. Half Dome wasn't going to happen (it's 16 miles long), that was for sure. We were still feeling tender after Bodie too, so a short hike was all we wanted. In the end we decided to hike from the Awahnee over to Yosemite Falls, about 1 mile. It was crowded, but worth it.

While in Yosemite I learned something about Tech Support that I hadn't discovered in our almost 6 years together: He has a crush on Half Dome. The entire time we walked around the valley he kept angling his head and pointing through the trees and saying, "If this branch weren't in the way, you could see Half Dome," and "Don't worry, we'll get a really good view of Half Dome from Glacier Point."

I wasn't worried.

When pressed on this obsession with Half Dome he explained that there were very few sights in the world that were so unique. The way Yosemite was formed, the granite, the sheer scale of the mountains, these things impressed him.

But his cool reasoning didn't convince me. If that were true, he would have been looking for El Capitan too. No, the man has a crush on Half Dome. Matters of the heart cannot be explained with plutons.

We did get a few good views of Half Dome from the Valley.

But the better views were up at Glacier Point.

How can I compete?

After Glacier Point we'd had enough of people and traffic for one day, and got back on the 41 to head down into Fresno. So far in the day we'd been on snow covered mountains, a hot summer day in the valley, and now we entered cute little California towns with names like Coarsegold.

And for ten minutes it even seemed like we might be in Illinois.

In Fresno we hit the first highway with over 2 lanes that we'd seen since we left Los Angeles.

And we found our hotel. I'd booked the Downtown Fresno Holiday Inn for some reason or another that I couldn't remember. We weren't planning on spending much time in Fresno, so a functional chain hotel seemed a good idea.

We got off in the empty, industrialized downtown of Fresno and discovered our hotel was attached to a Casino. Across the street from our room was the courthouse.

And when we went to get something to eat at the closest restaurant in the area (though, does McDonalds qualify as a restaurant?) we discovered there were at least 5 bail bondsmen within walking distance of our hotel. When we got on our elevator to go back up to our room we were joined by smiling older people who tried to talk to us in German.

Do people really come from Germany to go to a Casino in Fresno?

We were now far away from the cabin and the bubbling creek. The king sized bed was nice though.

Bodie Bodie Bodie Bodie Bodie Bodie

2009-05-22T21:23:00.000-07:00

After Manzanar we went further north along the 395 until we reached the town of Independence. There was no need to look up the address of our motel, because it was easily located along the roughly 4 block stretch that made up the entire city.

Ray's Den Motel inexpensive, no frills but clean little place run by a laid back Den Mother named Linda. She gave us our keys and told us with a hint of a smile about "Mule Days", coming up this weekend. The Mule is an important animal in the area.

Tech Support was still exhausted from his long week, so we lolled around our room and watched a man across the street do something in his yard. He was every kind of small town stereotype of an old man, stooped over and fussing around his packed dirt yard with his dog in a very focused way. When we walked by the place later we couldn't figure out what he'd been up to.

Considering the size of the town I wasn't too optimistic about dinner. But when I went online I discovered that there was actually a French Bistro in town, across the street from a Subway (there are Subways EVERYWHERE).

The Still Life Cafe is a legend in the area. The place is run by a husband-wife team and boasts long wait times and irregular hours. However, reviews said the food was supposed to be wonderful.

After a few bewildering calls between Tech Support and the husband, where we tried to determine if they would be open tonight and the husband wasn't quite sure because his wife wasn't home yet, we wandered over around 7pm. Luckily for us the wife had arrived.

Tech Support and I relaxed and enjoyed the wait, prepared by the reviews and aware that the wife was the only one in the kitchen.

I had the best Brie Burger I had ever had. It was so, so, so good. Worth the wait, and it wasn't like there was much else we had to be doing anyway.

Now over two hours later, it was dark outside. We made our way carefully to the motel since there weren't too many street lights and the sidewalk came and went. Full of delicious French Food and delighted with such a unique experience, we went to bed.

Breakfast at the motel was simpler. Cereal, milk, muffins and yogurt were laid out in the tiny office for us. Since the motel was half the cost of our B&B in Kernville, and also cheaper than our dinner, this was very fair. We packed up and headed out of town, bound for Bodie.

We passed the Mammoth area without stopping with some regrets, but I wanted to be sure to have enough time in the Ghost Town that had inspired this entire trip. We did take a little time to check out Mono lake.

Swallows flittered all around the exterior of the Information Center, and had made their nests in the eaves of the building. Inside we learned about local wildlife and history. Mono Lake is another one Los Angeles attempted to drain as recently as the 80s. I considered telling anyone who asked that I was Canadian. Luckily the issue never came up.

Another place I will have to return and explore more.

We pressed on, turning off the 395 and onto a road that appeared to go on forever.

We turned off that road, and started up a pitted and rough asphalt road that promised to lead us to Bodie. The road was a shakey mess, but it was lined with pretty purple wildflowers.

After a bit the road ended.

And a little while after that we saw the town.

Bodie met every expectation and then some. When we got there it was hot and bright. The light was just perfect for my funky hand-me-down camera to take absolutely gorgeous photos with little effort on our parts.

Going up to windows and peeking in we found deliciously Silent-Hill like deteriorated interiors.

As the day went on the skies turned dark and ominous and wind whipped over the grass and into my hair. There was even thunder and lightning in the the distance. A perfect taste of how miserable it must have been to live here.

Why is this house covered in fabric?

Forget Tombstone, it's all about Bodie.

We explored as much of the abandoned city as we could before dehydration (and maybe a little altitude sickness) got to us. We'd done our best to keep hydrated, but we're just too used to being sea level and weren't doing too well at 8000 feet.

Despite that, I couldn't be more pleased by Bodie. I'd love to go back sometime, maybe when we explore Mammoth and Mono lake.

Roadtrippin'

2009-05-21T16:02:00.000-07:00

The beginning of our road trip has been fraught with difficulties, but on Weds around 3 we were finally on our way.

Due to the lateness of our departure we had to skip a planned excursion to Calico, but it is well within driving distance of LA at least. Some other time.

Our first stop was Fort Tejon, mainly to stretch our legs and let the B & B we were going to be at for the night know that we'd be a little late. While there I read up about a failed attempt at a Camel Army of some kind.

"The Camels proved ill suited to the to the American southwest." I would imagine so, but I guess sometimes you have to try something to be sure?

We hit the road again and headed up the 5 to the 99, and then onto the 178, a road I had never traveled before. Instead of heading up parallel to those mountains, we headed straight for them. It was exciting.

And the silver lining of not going to Calico was taking the 178 through the southern end of Sequoia National Park. An ominious set of signs warned, in both spanish and english, that 242 people had died since 1968. The signs went by so fast that I wasn't sure entirely how they had died, but I was worried anyway.

I'm guessing it was these winding, rocky roads that did all those people in. We were rather cautious, pulling onto turn-outs quite a few times to let more confident locals wiz on by.

Though he looks calm and collected, Tech Support was quite exhausted at this point. As soon as we found our adorable little B&B by the Kern River, he was done.

The Innkeeper seemed to think we might want to go out and eat and get beer or, I don't know, take a walk. She let us know when the back door would be locked (9:30pm) and that we were free to come and go out the front door as we pleased.

This was all moot. We'd eaten dinner at an In-N-Out at some tiny little town a few hours ago, and we were officially done. We tucked ourselves into the bed and were getting ready to sleep around the time Virginia locked the back door.

The next morning we got up and had our breakfast, a feast prepared by Innkeeper Virginia. There were three other couples staying at the Inn the night before and it was fun to chat with them about their travels. One older couple had traveled back and forth across the US several times and seemed to have been everywhere.

Another couple from Colorado told us about a deadly curve in the road near where they live, where someone went over the edge and when they went to retrieve them, they found another car and the body of a man who'd been missing for 5 years. Sounds like the great opening to a novel, doesn't it?

We went back up to our room and were joined by one of the locals who wanted to do an inspection of our luggage.

Max, the local 3-legged kitty, was afraid we might have tried to smuggle kitties across the Los Angeles County Line. No reassurances we could offer would appease him until he had carefully sniffed the entire bag.

Then he had to relax a bit.

Unfortunately for him we had to kick him out so we could take a walk.

The Kern River was directly across from our Inn. It rushes by and is a very popular place to go rafting.

The mountains surrounding the area are also quite impressive.

But the cuisine is not.

We said our goodbyes to the kitty and the Innkeeper, and hit the road again. The long, empty road.

In search of ice, we first stopped at a tiny convenience store where Tech Support went in solo, and came out reporting the electricity was out so there was no ice. Also, the clerk and a local had been discussing whether she should keep drinking or perhaps do drugs instead. She wasn't into the latter idea. After about 30 minutes of more empty road, we stopped at the loneliest little gas-station/subway combo I have ever seen, which was filled with a group of Italian Tourists who'd just come off their bus. Ice acquired, we carried on until we reached the next part of or trip.

Can you imagine being removed from your home, your business, your city, and taken here to live instead?

The mountains are beautiful, but it is hot and dusty. Tech Support pointed out how impermanent their structures were meant to be, very little remains except for occasional cement foundations.

The High School Auditorium, which later became more of an events area for those interred here, is now the Interpretation Center.

Which you can see behind me, but in front of the majestic snowy Sierras. Inside was an impressive, well kept and well air-conditioned set of exhibits. It was interesting to read about how the camp members built their own little city under the watchful eyes and night-search-lights of the guards.

There was also some information about the people who'd lived in Manzanar before, the Piute Indians who'd been pushed out and then returned, and then were pushed out again with the farmers when Los Angeles decided they needed the water.

We came out and discovered that despite being covered in a thick sheen of splatted bugs and sap, Tech Support's new car had made a friend.

We took the auto tour of the place, which was mostly more scrub, occasional cement foundations, and signposts for where various buildings had been. There were a few occasions to step out and meet the natives who'd stuck around during all this turmoil.

I was impressed with the coloration of the lizards, which was the same light color as the rocks all around. They could also run very fast, though they weren't too shy about stopping a few minutes to be photographed.

We got out at the cemetery, which is probably one of the most photographed parts of Manzanar.

So far so good.

Food and Cats

2009-05-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I finished doing laundry and didn't feel like folding it right away. If you have ever had a cat, you know how this story goes. Well, in this case James beat Sylvester to the punch, but she wasn't going to let him have the best spot all to himself.

Last night I made Chicken Tikka Masala. As mentioned before, cooking chicken and other meats always makes me nervous. So I got an instant read thermometer, which would let me know if the meat was done. Still, I jabbed it nervously into the chicken and stared at the numbers, trying to figure out if the slow rate they were increasing meant anything.

J-Po, sitting across the kitchen, told me quite sternly that the chicken was done and he'd eat it all if I was really afraid. Luckily, it didn't come to that.

I also managed to squirt tomato all over myself while attempting to convert diced tomatoes to crushed tomatoes with a potato ricer in a hurry. Who knew that was a bad idea?

Despite that, the food came out great. I'm feeling my kitchen Mojo returning.

Teri and Oliver

2009-03-20T20:40:00.000-07:00

Oliver was a black man who had to be at least in his forties but had a youthful appearance. He took an interest in my knitting and told me about the clothes his mother used to sew him back in New York when he was a kid. She was apparently rather strict. He knew how to do some crochet, but hadn't done it for years. He had a fast way of talking, words tripping over each other as they flowed from his mouth. He thought I had to be from out of the state, no doubt picturing me as some country girl come to the big city.

Teri was 55, he told me so himself, and looked like he could play the sheriff in some old b-western. He was shocked at my age, and wanted to know why I had a degree in film that I wasn't using. When given my usual vague explanations about nepotism and Hollywood, he told me that you could even find that in alleyways. He then related to me stories about living on the beach in the 80s, and being ticketed by the police, and how he'd almost gotten his associates degree. He wished he had a job and focused on taking care of himself even though he lived in the alley.

Both men made allusions to how drinking had gotten in the way of their lives, and seeing their charming smiles, hearing their colorful life stories, and smelling the alcohol on their breath, I felt sad.

The Boy and I have been watching the first 48. A vast majority of the murders on that show are in some way or another drug related. The Boy and I agreed that while we had no real moral, ethical issues about getting high, the violent and ugly nature of the business really soured us on the entire institution. Drugs may not be evil, but some of the people involved in them are.

I realize the world is numerous shades of gray. Boiling things down to drugs and alcohol = bad, prohibition = good is overly simplistic and ultimately not useful. The violence and murder and drugs in the first 48 also has a lot to do with poverty. Both Teri and Oliver no doubt have demons they don't bring up at bus stops, and if they didn't drink alcohol they'd find some other self-destructive outlet for their issues. I've seen people spend money on yarn in a way that made me feel they were searching desperately to fill some hole in their lives, not a few relaxing hours of knitting. People's demons find all kinds of outlets.

Still, I'm sticking with tea these days.

Found the Macro Setting

2009-03-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

So now I will subject you to pictures like this:

Mountains of roast potatoes with spicy caramelized onions, an old favorite from Cooks Illustrated that I have done many times. I love fingerling potatoes with brightly colored insides. Slicing them up is like opening little presents.

A hastily tossed together dinner, another winner from Apples for Jam. I had asparagus, but wanted something a little more filling. The boy remarked that he was surprised how well the egg and asparagus went together. The Parmesan didn't hurt either.

The Cabbage Stalks At Midnight

2009-03-12T16:58:00.001-07:00

I didn't sleep very well. For that I blame this:

Thai Style Salad. An excellent way to hone those knife skills, learned back in January. Yet eating copious amounts of this mostly-cabbage mixture left me unsatisfied, despite the Ma Po Tofu accompaniment. I slept, but the leafy greens and fish sauce haunted me with vapid poppy store music, repeated endlessly in my head.

Today I'm wandering around the house, confused as to the time of day it really is thanks to a time change that I've yet to adjust to. The cats look worried. The housework watches. The writing waits. I'm taking it easy.

Getty Villa Lite

2009-03-08T11:12:00.000-07:00

Lately the sun has been out but the air is cold. I go on long walks and start out with two sweaters which I shed along the way. Inside the house I keep an extra layer on all day and the cats stare longingly out to the patio through the closed window.

This morning was a little warmer. Thanks to spring forward I was a little behind before I even woke up, and scrambled to put together the pot roast in the slow cooker. Despite this inauspicious beginning, the sun inspired me to throw together breakfast and bring it outside.

The Boy commented it was like eating at our own Roman Villa. I hope to have more breakfasts and dinners this as we wind our way into Spring and Summer.

Going Barn Red...

2009-03-02T09:59:00.001-08:00

Besides trying to do more home cooking, I've been trying to do more home making. With that in mind, about a month ago I purchased Milk Paint with the idea of improving some of our bare wood (read: easy to get dirty) Ikea furniture. The weeks passed by and I didn't get to it, and then someone took matters into his own hands.

Isn't he cute?
I'm happy.

Is February Over Yet?

2009-02-28T07:22:00.000-08:00

I'm still here, but I'm ready to be done with this month. First I was exhausted from work, then I floundered with my writing, then I got a cold, then I got my wisdom teeth out. During all this I didn't do too much cooking.

Honestly, I think that was a mistake. Cooking is hard work, sometimes I screw up, and it's really not usually a joyful activity. But it is a satisfying one. When I've put together a tasty meal, or at least something new, I feel like I've accomplished something. I needed more of that in February.

March will be different. I'm already in the baby steps of planning a dinner party with a friend. I couldn't help but pick up another book by Tessa Kiros. Her cookbooks belong on coffee tables, they are so beautiful. I've been watching and reading Pride and Prejudice lately, and though I know none of the Bennet girls cooked or did housework, for some reason it always puts me in the mood to do just that.

Unfortunately, thanks to the wisdom teeth removal, I'm still on soft foods today. Tomorrow though, I may try something different.

Meanwhile, I'll leave you with two things I managed to snap pictures of that the boy made with a little bossy oversight from me:

Sweet Simmered Beef and Onions over Rice from Let's Cook Japanese Food! I like beef when it's done Japanese style. Sliced thin, cooked well, and over a bed of rice.

Hot Chocolate from Apples for Jam (one of the Tessa Kiros books). Wow, this stuff is decadent.

See you in March!

I do things besides cook...

2009-02-09T11:36:00.000-08:00

I also work. Oy, did I work for the last week. We got a lot done but in the future, we aren't going to pile things on that way.

And you'd think that spending so much of the week in a store full of yarn, that would be the last thing I wanted to deal with when I got home. Instead it was all I wanted to do when I got home. New fun cooking fell to the wayside (pasta and salad anyone?) and knitting a multitude of projects was all I did.

Now that work is back to normal, I hope to get back to writing and cooking too. Still, today I find myself resisting the call of those metal knitting needles...

The Second Time Around...

2009-01-29T08:52:00.000-08:00

We made Japanese Hamburger's again and this time they came out better. The first time they were yummy, but rather meat-loafy. The second time they were fantastic.

What did I do different? I wish I knew. I hate it when I do something better (or worse) the second time and have no idea why. It's taken me 3 times to be *almost* certain that my favorite brand of Silken Tofu is just TOO soft for Ma Po Tofu. When I add the cornstarch it winds up looking more like what I imagine Menudo looks like than Ma Po. It's delicious, but nothing I'd show on the blog.

Next time I'll use their Firm Tofu instead, that'll be the final test.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to make Japanese Hamburgers in an attempt to figure out what I did right. This is not something I'm dreading.

On the subject of Transcendental Foods, the parents brought me half a flat of Strawberries from Oxnard. Some kind of bribe I think. I had to do something with them.

This may not look like much.

But this was delicious. Strawberries + Homemade Sponge Cake + Whip Cream = Happiness. Plus, I'm very proud of myself for successfully making Sponge Cake! That's a lot of egg-beating.

Beautiful Days...

2009-01-27T08:27:00.001-08:00

... lead to falling behind on the blog.

Finished the first book of 2009. Fledgling by Octavia Butler. I'm aiming to read more than one book a month, but had a rough start with another book that couldn't keep my interest. Now I'm reading Titus Groan by Mervyn Peake, which I am enjoying but is dense, dense, dense. So it may take a little while to get through.

Meanwhile there have been:

Delicious breakfasts. The only way I'm willing to eat eggs besides the (very) occasional egg salad or deviled eggs.

Baked Shrimp Scampi from Ina Gartens Back To Basics, another Christmas present. Delicious, easier to make than usual scampi, and would definitely be a great course for those dinner parties I'm going to have someday.

Beautiful days at the Getty Villa, where someone else made lunch for me, and I sat and enjoyed the view far more than the art.

Repulsion Cuisine

2009-01-21T21:12:00.000-08:00

Around midnight one evening, laying in bed but not yet in asleep, I turned to the boy and said: "What's the opposite of fusion? Repulsion maybe?"

One of the many reasons I love this man is he always takes me seriously. He stopped and thought for twenty seconds. "Yeah, that sound good."

Earlier that day I'd been presented with a dilemma: What to make with potatoes. The potatoes were important. They were growing old, were probably already a little past-done, but salvageable. I knew I could make roast or skillet potatoes pretty easy. But while I had a ton of ground pork and could easily make Ma Po Tofu for the dozenth time, I just couldn't stomach the idea of Ma Po Tofu and Potatoes. That wasn't the kind of fusion cuisine I liked, it was more like repulsion cuisine.

I did have some drumsticks that the boy had purchased and then, like many grocery store inspirations of his, left to die in the freezer. The problem? I have this neurosis about chicken. I'm terrified of undercooking the pale pink meat. I'll eat it when others make it without batting an eye, but I fear my own abilities. Still, chicken and potatoes sounded much, much better than Ma Po Tofu and Potatoes.

Battling my fear, I paged through a new cookbook I'd picked up on the recommendation of a friend, Apples for Jam. Chicken Drumsticks and Wings with Orange Tomato Glaze caught my eye. I like the word glaze, so that was a good start. The basic ingredients were encouraging. The 2-2 1/2 hour cooking time sealed the deal. I could eat chicken that had cooked for that long.

Finally, I had a complete meal.

Please Don't Hit Me With Your Car

2009-01-20T08:10:00.000-08:00

A Quick Note to Drivers Out There:

Please come to a full and complete stop when approaching the pedestrian crossing the street, legally, at the cross walk. While you may know that you aren't going to hit her, she does not feel so confident as she eyes your Range Rover rolling in her direction at a speed that would still hurt on impact. Let me remind you that she is less than 1/10th the size of your car, and considerably less durable. I know stopping in front of the crosswalk means approximately 10 seconds you cannot devote to Your Life, but at that moment the pedestrian is fearing for Her Life. So please, just stop the car for a moment.

Thanks.

Combinations

2009-01-18T22:28:00.000-08:00

Maybe you know already, but I've got this thing about cooked fruit. I don't like it. Numerous times loving family members have presented me with just-out-of-the-oven homemade pies, and I've remained unmoved. Warm berries? Hot apples? No thanks.

Except for jam. I dig jam. Only, I don't like toast that much (I know, I know, wait until I tell you about my issues with cooking chicken later this week), so I am always on the lookout for good Jam Vehicles. Scones, for examples, are excellent at carrying jam. Lately though, I've been casting my eye in the desert realm. Enter, Jam Thumbprints.

I used Cooks Illustrated's recipe, and first made these around Christmas, and they were eagerly gobbled up by my father and brother. The cookie is tender, moist and dense and the perfect vehicle for the sweet jam. They were a winner from the first bite, and I had to make them again.

The thing about these cookies though? They taste great after dinner of course, but there is an even better way of eating them.

The slightly bitter green tea cleanses the palate and makes each bite taste like the first. I love combination's of food and drink that belong together. Things like apple and gorgonzola in the same salad, or the way feta, parsley and kalamata olives belong together in all kinds of dishes. But I'm also always looking for components of a meal that enhance one another. Like how homemade burritos taste better if I'm drinking a Corona. Or the way clam chowder needs a good sourdough. As the flavors come together in my mouth, they become more than the sum of their ingredients.

As part of my self-education on cooking and food, I'm seeking more of these transcendental moments.

Cooking Loves Knitting

2009-01-15T08:36:00.001-08:00

I think that becoming a skilled knitter has actually helped me become a better chef as well. Patterns for more complicated knitted garments can be intimidating and overwhelming. Time and time again I've watched people read through patterns like they were some kind of novel and exclaim: "But I don't understand what it means here in step 10."

In such cases I always urge the customer to just go ahead and start, and if they take the pattern one step at a time, by the time they get to 10 it'll make sense. (Of course, occasionally a pattern is poorly written or wrong, but usually by then you can also Figure A Way Around It.)

As another side note, I've heard the occasional novice knitter refer to patterns as "recipes."

Which is all to say that I'm a lot less intimidated by long recipes these days. I do them one step at a time, and at the end I usually have something tasty, if not always what I was going for.

Or I can just keep making a recipe I've already made once. "Ebi no Chiri So-Su" from Let's Cook Japanese Food! is a new favorite of mine. The main ingredient in the sauce is ketchup -- which illustrates why I'm really loving this book. While the accomplished Japanese chef may wow you with their tempura and sushi, the average Japanese person is more interested in how they can get more mayonnaise or ketchup into their diet. And since this book represents the latter, they are also very simple.

Too bad taking good pictures of food at night isn't like following a recipe...

Next Year I'll Ask For Photography Books...

2009-01-06T08:13:00.000-08:00

This year I asked for, and thus received, a fair amount of cooking related paraphernalia for Christmas. I've already used two of these gifts.

The Le Creuset Dutch Oven (which I may occasionally refer to as 'my precious') was put to work to make this Almost No-Knead Bread recipe from Cooks Illustrated. I've wanted to make this forever, but even after I got the dutch oven I had to wait for a good time with 8 hours to rise.

Whenever I wait to do something though, I tend to end up doing it on impulse when I can't stand to wait any longer. So, on a Friday night at 11pm I sent the boy for a quick trip to the local store for the instant yeast I thought I'd had, and then threw the dough together in about five minutes. It was supposed to be left standing at room temperature, but since it's chilly here I put it in our oven where it was kept a little warmer by the pilot light.

Saturday friends came over and I pulled this baby out for it's almost-no-kneading and second rising, and then popped it in the oven. It cooked faster than expected, and burned on the bottom, but it was still absolutely delicious. I'm going to invest a few $ in an oven thermometer, because I suspect my oven sometimes runs a bit hot. Next time I make this (which will definitely be soon) I'm going to do the Rosemary-Parmesan version.

My younger brother gave me "Let's Cook Japanese Food!" by Amy Kaneko, and I've already tried out two recipes, including the shrimp seen in my previous blog. Those were delicious.

So was this, "Mapo Nasu", spicy pork with eggplant. I've made "Mapo Tofu" using another recipe, the main difference (besides tofu vs. eggplant) was this one had no miso added. I missed that flavor, so next time I will try adding it to this recipe.

I was pleased with how the eggplant came out, since they have given me trouble before, though one of them was a little tough. I think I'm going to blame that individual eggplant since the rest were quite yummy.

I've still got a few Christmas gifts to experiment with, some money at amazon that might go towards cooking gadgets, and I think I need to work on my camera skills...

This year I am going to...

2009-01-03T08:13:00.001-08:00

Keep cooking new things...

Keep reading...

Keep going to the beach...

Keep having a good time with the boy...

And blog more about it.

Some days...

2008-11-22T19:55:00.000-08:00

... success is homemade Ricotta Gnocchi, made using homemade ricotta.

The Show

2008-07-17T07:31:00.001-07:00

Home made Samosas, Vegetable Curry, Tamarind Chutney and Mango Lassi. Store-bought Chapatis and rice.

Mmm.

A preview...

2008-07-14T17:53:00.001-07:00

Take it for Granted

2008-05-14T11:52:00.000-07:00

After a week in Copenhagen I was ready to go home. It's hard to describe fully my feelings about the place. J-Po commented to me earlier today 'Did you like anything about Copenhagen?' which at first I thought was a bit unfair, but I do so like to complain to him that of course he might get the wrong impression.

And there was a lot about Copenhagen that put me off. There was definitely a tinge of unfair "well, this isn't Japan" coupled with discomfort at things being different. There were more legitimate complaints, such as the otherwise excellent Metro systems continued insistence on not accepting bills. There was the odd feeling as I walked down Stroget, which reminded me so much of the busy 3rd St. Promenade, that some things were even too familiar (I hate the Promenade when it is busy). And my flat out dislike of being around so many people who were publicly drinking, no matter that they never did anything to me.

But there was a lot to like about Copenhagen. The convenience and speed of the public transportation system. An admiration of how many people were out their on their bicycles, and the way some people used them instead of cars. Also, I liked the lack of cars. The parks were always full of people just enjoying a nice day. Tivoli was magical. The museums were fantastic and I'd go back to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in a heartbeat. The countryside was gorgeous. Wandering around underneath Hamlet's castle and seeing the sleeping viking something I will never forget. History was in the air and one never gets tired of walking past castles.

No matter my feelings on everything, a week was enough.

So I was a little surprised when I woke up Tuesday morning feeling really rather sad. The reason, of course, was simple.

The boy asked me, when I was a bit tearful thanks to a potent combination of exhaustion and missing my brother, if I missed the now Theo or a younger Theo. I knew what he meant, Theo being 18, traveling, on his own, soon to go off to college, means a lot of changes. The boy wondered if I wasn't missing the times before.

It only took a moment of reflection. I missed the now Theo. The one who could take care of himself and cook me pasta for dinner. The one brave enough to go off to Europe all by himself. The one who spoke with evangalistic passion about how he thought others should do the same.

We'd had such a good time, wandering all over and talking about everything from our parents influences on our personalities to what reminded us of Silent Hill, that I didn't really realize how much fun we were having until it was over. That's how it should be I think, enjoying the moment rather than reflecting on ones enjoyment, but I was taken aback by my sadness. I'd be seeing him again soon enough, and I hadn't been nearly this sad when he left in the first place. Still, it was hard to shake.

We dropped our stuff off at the airport and then went into town for a last bit of wandering before we went on our separate ways. Neither of us knew what to say I think. In times like that things get quiet. Since we still had a few hours together it seemed to much to expound about anything too deep, drawing out the moment into some kind of endless final lecture. Yet, talking about frivolous things felt too light for our last hours together in Denmark. We settled for silence broken up with brief bursts of conversation about our trip, where he was going next, what I was going to do next, and what we'd do as soon as we were back in the states.

Luckily, there were things to distract and amuse us.

The time drawing near, we settled down for a meal at something like a Danish Sizzler, and I picked at my Ceasar salad, managing to eat most of it. The weather was finally living up to expectations, and we were quite cold.

Then, we took the Metro back to the airport, saw two of the drunkest men I'd ever seen in my life, picked our stuff up, and said our goodbyes. I took a half a dozen blurry photos before I finally got this one.

My gate was a mile away and it wasn't until I got there that I let myself sniff a tiny bit before reading my book. The flight was long and I sat next to some very nice Danish men who drank my weight in alcohol but seemed to remain clear headed.

Ten hours later, when I arrived in Seattle, I was done. Unfortunately, since I was in Seattle, I really wasn't. I got picked out for a random customs inspection, made friends with the British guy in the line with me, and tried not to blush when the young woman in customs opened my bag and "Sex and the Immortal Bad Boy" stared up at her, along with Theo's 007 book.

My flight was delayed, the plane wasn't even at the gate. I got to talk to My Boy for the first time in a week while I waited. I sniffled with my mom on the phone. And then settled in for the last leg of the flight.

I wish I could say that my reunion with The Boy in LAX was magical, but I'd fallen asleep on the Seattle flight and woken up too late to use the restroom and by the time I got to baggage claim (there were no bathrooms on the way) I was desperate. He got a hug, a kiss, and my carry-on as I ran off in the other direction to the ladies.

I fell asleep easily that night but woke up at 5am on Weds and couldn't get back to sleep. The morning found me in that exhausted, weepy state that I sometime get into. The Boy has dealt with this version of me before so he was very sweet with me and we walked together down the street to a local bakery.

The Boy and I walked back, me chomping on my coconut-chocolate croissant, I felt a little better. Already I made plans to go there with Theo when he got back, then maybe we'd play some Silent Hill on the 46" LCD screen that had appeared in my living room while I was gone.

I miss Capitalism

2008-05-12T12:30:00.001-07:00

Today, more trains. We went to the airport (only a few stops away) so Theo could check out some ticket info. We discovered the way we should have been handling the Metro ticket situation (anyone going to Copenhagen in the near future -- come to me first). And then we were on our way.

Well, once our train came. Unlike yesterday however, figuring out how to get to the Castle was relatively easy. We'd walked about five steps from the train station when I spotted it in the distance.

"Let's head that way."

First though, we had a little lunch.

These hotdogs, with their crunchy bits of onion and huge sweet pickles and 22dkk price tag rate as favorite meal #3 on this trip. That taken care of, we started across Hellsingor toward the castle.

Hamlet's Castle, Kronborg Slot to those playing along at home, far beat out the other castle for Sheer Coolness. Shakespeare likely never visited the castle of course, but he did pick a neat one.

Because I care about the Danish Economy I got the Super-Cool ticket that cost more and got us into the Church, Royal Apartments, Maritime Museum, and Casemates. We did the Royal Apartments first. After having seen so many rooms of old furniture, walk hangings, and paintings they start to blur together, but there were still some impressive paintings. And impressive rooms.

We then went onto the Church, which, surprisingly, was just a one room church. Oddly relieved, we went onto the casemates -- which turned out to be the coolest part. Of course I had no idea what a casemate was, but turns out it involves going underneath the castle. Down there it is Dark and Cold and you can imagine all kind of horrible things are going to come after you with rusty knives.

Luckily this guy is here to protect you.

He is some kind of Viking dude who sleeps until Denmark needs him, when he awakes and does -- something good. I don't think he's done it lately.

We kept exploring again. For some inexplicable reason they have 2 mannikins of soldiers down there. Demonstrating, I think, how exactly this was useful to the castle. Unfortunately having only 2 serves to be more creepy than useful because our reaction went something like "Huh? Where'd he come from?" and then some nervous laughter.

After that we went to the Maritime Museum, and since it was mostly model ships we moved quickly through. Toward the end we wound up at some stairs with a sign pointing up that said "Tower". With no other explanation needed, we went up.

And up.

And up.

And my calf muscles started to seize up in protest, and then--

We were there. It was windy and cold, but very cool to be at the top of the castle.

Going down was easier.

Worn out by 7 days of travel, we decided to end on that high note and head back to the B&B for a relaxing evening and some packing. This is what tired looks like.

We wanted to get some kind of vegetables, but it seemed that Denmark had conspired against us. We'd wondered earlier when the Information center in Hellsingor was closed, but as we looked for a grocery store we discovered most places were closed. My capitalist American brain was already grappling with the idea of so many stores being closed on a Sunday, but today was a Monday! They were supposed to be open!

Except that apparently today was 7 weeks after Easter. And that is a Holiday worthy of closing most stores.

Where My Shorties At

2008-05-11T23:58:00.000-07:00

Sunday we did a new thing. We rode the S-Tog.

Which is just the friendly local train system with a name that makes me giggle for no good reason. S-Tog. Tee hee.

Luckily since we already had the Metro figured out the S-Tog wasn't too difficult. Theo even got to ride for free thanks to his Eurail pass.

We rode it for about 10 minutes and then found ourself out in a more rural area taking a local train. This train was really not much more than a bus and the stop was not quite bustling.

We got off at our final destination and found an absolutely beautiful little suburb. There was a huge park off to one side with a lake where kids were swimming, canoing, and fishing. It was like a scene out of one of the Dutch genre paintings we'd seen.

Unfortunately the scene was missing directions. While my guidebook was very complimentary about the Frilandsmuseet it was not eager to divulge the location. Nor were there any maps of the area, or signs. We walked in one direction but saw that area was mostly residential, and turned around and went the other direction. At the next corner, thankfully, there was a big sign pointing right that said Frilandsmuseet. Good thing too, because the map there was totally useless.

Frilandsmuseet is an Open Air museum that actually started over 100 years ago. There are lots and lots of Farms from various parts of Denmark including the Faroe islands. You can walk inside most of them. This is where we discovered that the Danish of a few hundred years ago were short.

Okay, but there's short, and then there is SHORT. Here, *I* am having to duck my massive 5' 2" frame in order to get through the door.

Yeah. It didn't get any better.

We really enjoyed ourselves. It was a nice break away from the busy, people filled city of Copenhagen into a patchwork of the past. Some of the houses were quite spread out and you could imagine this was somewhat like how it might have actually been.

The roofs on some of these places were amazing and made me think both about The Little House On The Prarie (actually, the one where they go to some house that is almost underground -- I forget what it was called) and the Hobbit Houses from Lord of the Rings.

This one actually had succulents growing right above the door. And I loved these houses from the Faroe Islands. I was bummed that the interiors were closed for repairs.

I imagine it is these thick, grassy roots that helped keep the interiors so cool because it was HOT HOT HOT out.

There were a few more modern examples, like this Co-Op from the turn of the century.

There were a few people around dressed in period outfits, and also some animals which I assumed were also in period dress.

Wild Yarn.

After wandering around the museet for a few hours we were both feeling tired and sluggish, so we headed back. We'd been planning on making an earlier day anyway, since we'd been out so late the night before and Theo had some things he wanted to get done on my computer.

Back at our B&B we spent a long time video chatting with Mom for mother's day, while I tried to recover from a blistering headache brought on by too much walking in the sun with too little water. This seems to happen to me at least once every trip. After far too many hours I felt better, and we went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Kids, don't do Frijoles

2008-05-10T21:29:00.000-07:00

The continued insistence of the sun on being Bright and Up at 5am and refusing to go down until 9:30pm makes me feel like some kind of cranky new mother who doesn't get enough sleep. At this point (with only today and Monday left before going home on Tues) I give up on normal sleep patterns.

Yesterday we planned on being out late, so we opted to get out of the B&B late as well so as not to exhaust ourselves too bad. We were going to grab some pastries but one thing about me and Theo -- rather than the Authentic, Magical, Perfect experience we go for the Silly and Perverse.

So we had Mexican.

Never do Mexican in Denmark. Theo had some in Sweden too and he feels confident in declaring that one should never do Mexican in Scandanavia. His poor enchiladas are naked and lacking in cheese. My Tostada reminded me of the food I used to eat at the dorms. Everything tasted like it had been canned.

And there was a slice of pineapple that I refused to have anything to do with.

(This is just a cool picture, there is nothing more to it)

In the interest of Not Going Hungry we ate our Danican lunch and went over to the Nationalmuseet. Here they actually had some Danish History stuff as well as Egyptian, Greek, Roman and an impressive coin collection.

We took a little too much time wandering through the Medieval/Renaissance and Coin sections and wound up having to rush through the 1660-2000 section. I was a little sad, but still got a good run through. War, poverty, absolutism, more poverty, social-scientific-political change, more poverty, etc.

After that it was time for...

Tivoli!

We had grand plans of staying up late and seeing the lights, but we were already tired. The rides looked neat but there wasn't much we felt like riding/we couldn't find in the States and I couldn't get Theo to go on this one.

We wandered a little bit. Saw pirate ships.

Sat and stared at pretty trees.

Tulips are in bloom all over the place and they are beautiful.

We decided that a good way to pass the time until it got dark (in HOURS AND HOURS) would be to grab some lunch. We wound up settling at a place that reminded me of PF Changs, only it was Japanese instead of Chinese.

It was better than the Mexican, not as good as the Sushi. Meanwhile there was this marching band comprised of young boys that wandered around the park every fifteen-thirty minutes.

There was a mix-up with our receipt. First they gave us a receipt for the group prior, then they gave us our receipt but without a charge for the delicious coconut ice cream we had before finally giving us the correct one. The waitress explained exactly what had happened with the mix-up and was very thankful in a formal way and Theo and I laughed about what it would have been like if the same thing happened in LA.

"Yo Dude, you didn't charge us for desert."
"Really? Shoot, my bad."

Anyway, after that we still had HOURS and HOURS until darkness. Our spirits were flagging but we wandered around more and sat down.

The band came by more than once.

Theo remarked in an off hand way that this ride depressed him.

Something about seeing grown ups on such a little train. Gradually, it became darker, and the birdies started to go to bed.

Until we finally got to see Tivoli all lit up. Definitely beautiful, and hard to capture with the digital camera.

At this point we had to stay for the 10:40pm light show. A sweet little thing with more heart than sophistication that lasted about ten minutes.

After that we walked back to our B&B. I insisted on traveling down the more populous Stroget street rather than the more deserted side streets. As soon as we were on Stroget though we were surrounded by people clutching beer bottles, talking loudly, and even someone on the ground with a large gash on their head. I wondered if the deserted streets wouldn't have been better.

Of course there were also still families out and no real danger. We made it back to the Metro and as we got off I passed a teenage girl holding a 6-pack of beer as she got on.

It was time for bed.

Better Than Herring

2008-05-09T12:03:00.000-07:00

It was bound to happen. Sure, I tried not to give in to those dark urges, but I'm afraid once they had a hold of me there was no stopping them. They even bled into Theo until he too felt the need. And today, we gave in.

MMmmmm. Thank you KB, for the generous funds. Of course it was nothing compared to Japan, or some of the better Sushi places in LA, but the charm of a young Danish man mumbling a thickly accented "Irrashimase" would be impossible to find anywhere else.

Before the sushi though, we went to the museum. This entailed our usual trip on the Metro and wandering past enigmatic buildings that had to be of some import which we were unaware of.

Luckily, the museum looked important too.

This is the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, which is somewhat similar to the J. Paul Getty Villa only with better art and less forgeries. Like the Getty Villa though, the museum is almost more beautiful than some of the art.

Poor Theo was so exhausted from staying up Far Too Late reading his Jim Butcher book that he spent most of the time wandering from bench to bench. Though my hips and legs were killing me, I was enthralled.

Here I look so awkward because I am restraining myself from embracing the statue. One of the museum people was totally watching me, ready to jump in and drag me away if needed.

There was also a small but intense collection of french impressionists and post impressionists that included beautiful bronze statues by Degas, some early Picasso, Guagin and all those important people with important names.

We spent so much time there, and were so tired, that we decided to save the other museum for tomorrow. Instead we hiked down the street to the aforementioned sushi place. Afterwards I was too stuffed but Theo still had some room.

I saw no new birds today, but did see this.

To cap the day we wandered through a department store. There were all kinds of neat housewares that I didn't buy (but may yet wander back for a few of them) and Theo was sweet enough to get me a little stuffed toy. Her name, according to the label, is "Mew". She and Sleepy Time Kirby have already hit it off.

So tired. Tonight we go to bed at reasonable hour, and tomorrow we go to Nationalmuset and Tivoli.

Birds Eye View

2008-05-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

Waking up when your body is absolutely convinced that it is midnight is difficult. However, once awake this morning I felt significantly less glassy and confused. Thanks to our 2-for-1 ticket yesterday we already knew what we were going to start the day off with -- Amalienborg Slot.

Since we got a late start we were there in time for a changing of the guard. This in the end was an unimpressive show that involved a lot of men in fuzzy hats trying to stare each other down.

After about five minutes, at which point we decided that they were not going to start shooting one another, we gave up.

Far more impressive was the courtyard itself.

The castle too was not as interesting as Rosenberg, which was far older. This castle had a smaller, far more modern museum that mainly consisted of the outfits of Queen Margrethe and the rooms set up as they had been in the 40's. Still, I enjoyed the juxtaposition between that and the castle we'd seen yesterday.

We then wandered around more of Northern Copenhagen, up to a park like area with a pretty church.

And the little mermaid.

Now, for the bird watchers in my family, a brief show of the birds I've seen which I (may) not have seen before:

Magpie (figured that one out)

Black headed Gull (I think, gulls are confusing)

This guy was very shy, I think he's a Jackdaw

This guy was even more shy - a grey heron I think?

Not Pictured: Common Wood Pigeon, which I have seen a bunch of but taken No Good Pictures of. We've also seen Swans, Coots, and Greylag geese, but those are common enough in the states.

Ahem. Anyway.

We then wandered around Kastellet, a fort that is still in use by the military, but also kind of a park like area. It had a pretty moat.

And a windmill.

After that we were hungry so we wandered through the shopping area again for a long, long time.

We passed a familiar friend (another one for the Boy):

Finally we wound up at this place that had Danish Meatballs, which was what Theo had. Getting into the spirit of things, I had herring.

A very, very bad idea that I will never, ever repeat. After choking down three pieces I couldn't eat any more, but since I didn't want to appear rude I made Theo eat them. He wasn't too fond of them either, but they didn't make him want to throw up.

Just the next block over we found the Radhus. The outside was impressive.

The inside was intimidating, but beautiful. All city halls should look that imperious.

Next door was Tivoli, but we are saving that for another day.

Instead we wandered around a lot more, looking for a Power Converter. On Day 1 our combined brain power managed to fry the one Theo had (oops) and so we needed another. One major difference I've found between Denmark and Japan -- the Danes do not share the same fetishistic love of electronics that the Japanese have. In fact, finding an electronics store was rather difficult.

But we did find one with some help, and got a new power convertor.

Exhausted and done, it was back to our B&B for more Pasta, beer with 10.6% alcohol, and much needed rest.

Rosenberg Slot Machine

2008-05-07T13:07:00.000-07:00

The B&B is a little funky, but there was nothing wrong with the bed. I slept like the dead until 5am.

And then I was awake.

I puttered around for a few hours. Theo slept through a few of my coughing fits. I think I heard some of the other boarders move around. I chatted online. I watched my computer clock (still set to CA time) move toward late night. And when it was 10:30pm in LA, I fell asleep again.

I woke up around 9:45am and this time managed to get up, though I was feeling distinctly groggy. Theo seemed to have some kind of plan so I followed him and we successfully navigated the Metro without any further coinage or translation issues. We went out to the park we'd been to yesterday.

I dunno what this tree is about, but I like it.

Just past the enigmatic tree is Rosenberg Slot. Slot means Castle in Danish. And as odd as that sounds to me, I wonder what Slot Machine sounds like to the Danes. Does it speak towards great wealth? Or musty smelling old buildings?

Anyway, we laid down our Kroners and went inside. The place was a mix of opulence, darkness, and that musty smell. The inlaid tables were beautiful, the huge tapestries intense, and the ceramic busts creepy.

The real fun part though, was the Treasury. The two young men holding the Big Guns right outside were disconcerting, but we passed them and went down. Along with swords and guns with gorgeous details and mythical figures depicted on their handles were the most intense crowns I've ever seen. One of them was called the Crown of Absolutism and I wouldn't argue. Unfortunately we didn't take any pictures.

The Statens Museum for Kunst was just a hop and a skip away so we went there next. Entry was free and the place was beautiful. One room depicted the different genres of painting and the walls were covered to the ceiling with examples. Lots of different examples of Dutch art. I only wish I'd been a little less sleepy.

We ate at the Museum Cafe for sheer convenience and enjoyed Tea in the oddest cups. My salad came with a new experience: Pickled Tomatoes. Now one can enjoy the sensation of vinegar without any other flavors to get in the way. I could only eat one. The rest of the meal was tasty though.

Another pretty bird. The picture doesn't do the dark blue feathers on the back justice.

We were both pretty wiped after that so we made our way across town, picked up some food stuff for dinner, and braved the Metro once more.

A picture for The Boy:

We laid around and recovered, and then Theo made me some Pasta for dinner. He also had some sushi. We were just sadly lamenting our lack of Soy Sauce when he opened the thing up and...

out popped some soy sauce!

After dinner we went out to Amager Strand (strand = beach).

Since we're Quite North it was about 8pm and we were still enjoying beautiful sunshine. We capped the day with some ice cream and went back to our B&B.

Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen

2008-05-06T11:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Copenhagen,

First, just to get it out of the way, some requests for clarification:

1) Why does your Metro system demand only coins that we do not have yet and Credit Card Pin #s that we do not know? What's so bad about bills? We're trying to be lawful about this whole thing, but really, you make it difficult.

2) What exactly happened when we were stuck 1 stop away from our stop for 10 minutes, then went backwards to the last stop, then forward again? Someone kept trying to tell us what was going on, but as it was all in Danish, I'm still confused.

3) While the explanation on the pay phone was really simple and easy to understand, it had no basis in reality that I could discover. Why would you do that?

But meanwhile, thank you for the good food and good company.

Love, Sara

The flights were relatively easy. I find the amount I worry about these kind of things is inversely proportional to how easily they turn out. My seat companion for the Long Flight from Seattle to Copenhagen was a 70 year old German woman who lived in Tacoma. We talked pleasantly of travel, marriage, raw fish, and I had a feeling she had a really interesting life story underneath it all.

Finding Theo in the airport was shockingly easy. Having grown up with LAX I am always prepared for Airports to be miniature cities - and usually surprised when they aren't. Getting from the airport to our place via metro was surprisingly difficult (see above). Also, Theo was unable to get to his wallet because the zipper of his pants was jammed. Once at our B&B there was a heroic effort to fix that:

Eventually the Swiss Army Knife was brought into play.

After that we decided to go into Copenhagen itself, since our B&B is in this bucolic suburb. We still did not have correct change, and didn't know where it get it. So we walked.

And walked.

And walked. (Did I mention we didn't have a map? That's how I roll.)

A bird for dad.

Luckily, long walks in Foreign countries are always cool.

We found a cute little Italian place where I had some Spaghetti Marinara (pictured above) that made me very, very happy. Then we wandered around a little more before heading back to our little Bed and Breakfast.

At 7:45pm the street looked like this.

Which reminds me:

Dear Copenhagen,

Do you realize how hard it is to acclimate to a time change when it is Bright Out at 9pm? Yeah. Hard.

Having a great time,

Sara

Writing About Scones, Sorta

2008-01-13T09:04:00.001-08:00

Sometimes my head gets buried too deep in the computer. I spend all my time either writing, or trying to write and feeling bad that I'm not. There are many problems here of course, but one of the big ones is that is hardly the kind of Full Life to inspire writing.

At the very least I risk becoming one of those writers who write about writing, which is not dissimilar from filmmakers who make films about film. They're not all bad, some are quite good, but there are too many and one gets the feeling that these people just don't Get Out Enough. Or Do Enough.

So I'm taking a few days off. Yesterday, on my second day off, I found myself standing in my kitchen thinking: "Now what?" I didn't have to turn my computer on and open up Scriviner -- so what should I do?

Make some cream scones of course.

I left out the currants (my pantry does not feature currants) and thought that I was making the same Cream Biscuits that I'd made a few times. These scones were FAR superior to the biscuits (amazing what 5 tbsp of butter will do) and paired with clotted cream and Aunt Kitty's wine jelly, well, I'm going to be making a lot more cream scones in the near future.

To help with my writing, of course.

Happy New Years

2008-01-03T23:42:00.000-08:00

Like others we went down to the shore to greet the new year.

Our friends were waiting there for us.

A year ago my interest in birds was minimal. They had beaks and feathers and made noises and that was all very well but nothing to get excited over. Lately though, perhaps in part thanks to my father and aunt, I find them a lot more interesting.

Who wouldn't be impressed by this beak?

These are a few of my favorite things...

2007-12-23T19:20:00.000-08:00

Baking with my brother.

Fresh bagels.

Two of my favorite guys.

Why do I like these guys?

2007-11-30T12:43:00.000-08:00

They're difficult. They make bad choices. They don't see what should be right in front of them because they're caught up in their pasts. They can be self destructive. They could use a few hours on the therapists chair. They don't do what I tell them to do, and sometimes go off in their own direction entirely. They bring things to a standstill when they don't like what is happening and won't move again until they get their way. They make waves, and can never leave well enough alone. And if I leave them alone, they do nothing at all.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I like the main characters in my book.

Pieces of Maui

2007-11-26T23:56:00.000-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving

2007-11-22T21:03:00.000-08:00

Perhaps A Day Late

2007-11-01T11:44:00.000-07:00

Tech Support and I were watching something together the other night and somehow it led to my speculating absurdly on Morgan Freeman. He has such a dignity about him that seems to come with age, that I wondered if he'd existed as a young man. I imagined he'd appeared on the earth in his late 40's and proceeded to carve out a successful film career.

To test my theory we went to the imdb and discovered he'd at least been in his early 30's when he appeared on this planet. In fact, he'd spent several years on the Electric Company at that time.

YouTube was consulted, and a wonderful discovery was made:

All Day Sunset

2007-10-28T12:50:00.000-07:00

"Those hot dry winds that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen." -- Raymond Chandler

When I was eleven or twelve I stood on our balcony and watched what looked like I imagined snowfall would look like, white flakes raining from the sky. The Santa Ana's were in town and Malibu was on fire.

That's one of the things I noticed this time, no ash. On Sunday we stood on top of the parking lot at the Grove, and saw the smoke coming down the coast from Malibu. Tuesday the air near my work in West Hollywood was so thick it made breathing hard. According to the news the worst air gathers in Long Beach, there residents like my friend Meg were advised to stay indoors. In San Diego some of my family evacuated, and thankfully their house made it.

Wednesday morning at the Farmers Market on the promenade a man in a suit yelled "There's no air here" to no one in particular. Yet I found Santa Monica clear and blue, the air free of that ash and smoke quality.

That same day we went down to the beach. The sun was blazing and the coastal view had turned to mud. Above the city the sky was clear and blue, but out over the pacific was another story. The sky was brown, the water reflecting the sky was brown, and the wet sand on the shore was brown. No picture can capture the surreality of the situation.

Besides the beach I might never have known there were fires except for the light coming through my patio window. Golden yellow, all day long. As though there was a constant sunset.

It's Hot, And Things are On Fire

2007-10-25T22:31:00.000-07:00

The cat is overcome.

And the sky is melting into the ocean.

... don't know where, don't know when ...

2007-10-22T00:09:00.001-07:00

Lion 1987-2007

Miss you bad already. See you later, I promise.

The picture is from my 8th grade page in the yearbook. For a more verbose eulogy check out my Lil Bros Blog.

Bowing to my Spider Overlords

2007-09-28T16:32:00.000-07:00

Today the boy came back into the house after giving me a sweet kiss and leaving, he'd forgotten his other girlfriend, his laptop.

"There is a huge spider out there. You have to see it."

There's no way of missing it.

While I can admire this creatures size and the amazing spotting on it's belly, I cannot bring myself to walk by it, rendered defenseless by the dirty clothes filling my arms, to laundry room. I can wash my clothes later.

Full House

2007-09-26T11:02:00.000-07:00

I've been a lousy blogger lately. Here's what I wrote for the OCC RWA Blog

Perhaps it's the cold given to me by a recent house guest, but I'm feeling a low on both Pop and Culture, so this month's post will follow suit.

Last night I was relaxing in bed and enjoying the premier of season two of Heroes (there's the pop culture part!) when a news spot comes on and a woman starts talking about this house that has been sitting on the shoulder of the 101 for over a week, complete with footage.

"Hey-" I start even as the boyfriend's eyes widen.

"That's our house!" He says.

Back to the beginning. I'm at my writing spot waiting for the words to pour forth when this horrible jackhammer noise starts up. It sounds like it's right outside my window but it's actually across the street. They're finally getting rid of the house that has had the notice of demolition sign up since we moved into our apartment three years ago. Soon we'll have 'affordable' condos there instead.

Only, despite some very vigorous jackhammering and other intrusive construction noises, the house doesn't actually appear to be getting demolished. Then one day, when I pull on my sweater and decide to take one of those clarifying walks, when I stop short in front of my apartment. There is a house parked across the street. I pull out my cell phone and take a picture.

Then retreat back into my apartment, not prepared to deal with the kind of world where a house is parked across the street. Later I peer out long enough to see that it's gone, and figure that's the end of the madness.

But when I join my boyfriend in the car that night to go out for dinner, we see the house, now down the block and parked at the end of the cul-d-sac, two police cars parked outside. We try not to stare, but it's hard not to. We're almost disappointed when we get back and the police are gone, though the house is still there.

And it stays there for at least a week and a half. Prompting various guests to greet me with: "You know there's a house parked down the street from you, right?" And a series of jokes about real estate and the new neighbors.

It goes on long enough that we have almost forgotten about it until we're in the car again, miles from home. The traffic report drones on underneath our conversation, but during a pause in conversation I hear a warning about the 101. Traffic is jammed for miles, and has been for hours, thanks to a house lodged in a freeway underpass. Startled, I ask the boy if he's heard that and then have to repeat the whole story to him.

"Think that's our house?"

"How many houses can there be moving around Los Angeles on any given day?" He asks.

Sure enough, the house was no longer down the street. I looked online to see if there are any pictures, but traffic in LA isn't a big enough story. A week later though, after I see the spot on the news, I can find dozens of pictures that confirm that it is my house (okay, the one from across the street) lodged underneath the freeway. I can understand the distinction, a house in the middle of a residential street for a week is nothing to write home about, sticking out into 101 for too long and the LA Times will take notice.

For more information on this strange debacle, just google "house 101 Freeway".

The Results of A Crafternoon

2007-08-31T09:39:00.000-07:00

The cat is one of my favorite gifts that Tech Support's mother has given me. The red bib is something I've seen all over Japan and been wanting to make, my mum helped me.

Aunt Kitty made this, and it outclasses all the other magnets on my refrigerator. Unfortunately my camera phone cannot take good closeups.

I want to finish posting about Japan, but I think I shall mix it in with other posts from now on.

Endless Summer

2007-08-16T21:59:00.001-07:00

Originally Friday, July 27th

I dragged Tech Support out of bed early on Friday to hike up a mountain with me. We went over to the train station to get our passes with my mother then left her behind as we took the bus to Nanzenji.

We walked past the main temple with intent and started up the mountain path. I led us past the point we'd gotten to before and only a short while later we came to a big split in the paths and stared with confusion at the map, entirely in Japanese. Some nice men pointed in one direction and said "Daimon", and since they appeared convinced that was the way we should go I was happy to follow their direction.

Also, I realized only a few minutes later that Daimon was the name of a rather famous mountain in Kyoto.

Then we walked, and walked, and walked. My ability to read Kanji just good enough that I was able to keep us heading towards Daimon anytime there was a split in the path. Most of the way trees obscured our view, but there were a few breaks.

We worked well as a team. One of us would fade at a time, saying something like, "well, I can go a little further but we've got to stop soon" and as soon as they were ready to give up the other would say "No, I see some blue, there is a beautiful view just up ahead."

This went on for almost two hours.

Finally I was just about ready to expire but Tech Support wanted to jog ahead further. I told him I'd walk slowly behind him and we'd meet up at some point. I followed after him, and after just a few minutes he disappeared from sight. I came to a split in the road and worried he might not know which way to go, but went in the directions I was fairly certain he'd gone.

And I walked, and walked. I worried again that he'd gone a different way at the split, but knew it was far more likely he'd forgotten about time altogether. I pressed on, panting like a dog after a rather steep incline, and only worried when I got to an even bigger fork in the road. From the map it looked like something ahead was worth getting to, but first you had to go up a rather step incline.

I climbed up. Another fork, this time no signs to help you. I looked both ways. I mumbled Tech Support's name loudly, then, worried, I started back down again. He would find me when I headed back.

I paused at the bottom to look at the map one more time, and that's when I heard my name. Tech Support was at the top of the hill, and so pleased to see me. I followed after him and after a few minutes, we saw our view.

Pictures can't do it justice, we saw all of Kyoto. At once. We could see the station, where our Ryokan was, the tiny orange gate that was the massive Tori for the Heian Shrine, everything.

We sat down for a moment. Another couple was there, and older Japanese one, she was trying to talk to JR about something she'd lost on the train and was having trouble getting reception up the mountain.

Tech Support and I had run out of water, poor planning on our part, and were already dreading a bit of the downhill. While the slope was hard on our knees, we only took about an hour, half the time it took to get up, to get back down. But by the time I recognized things as being down by the base I was terrifically thirsty. It was hard not to run through the temple to the soda machines.

We caught the bus back to Kyoto station and then walked over to our Ryokan where we showered and rolled around on our futons, groaning. Tech Support got some laundry together and went down the street. I went over to visit him but the heat was so bad that even walking on the street was difficult.

(Probably my favorite shot from the trip.)

I left him with the laundry and wandered around just a tiny bit more, taking refuge in the air conditioned crafts store, then going back to meet with everyone at the Ryokan.

We had Okonomiyaki at the train station, a fun experience that involved cooking our own crazy pancake-type-thing on our table. Then went across town to Gion where we got our own booth and Karaoke'd for a few hours. Lil Bro's tempo was off but his voice surprisingly like Bob Dylan's, J-Po made everything into heavy metal, and I was totally unable to carry a tune.

Karaoke is always deceptively fun. I think an hour is enough time to sing with friends, then suddenly almost two hours have gone by and it's time to get back to the Ryokan before curfew.

Key Oh Toe

2007-08-14T09:48:00.001-07:00

Originally Thursday, July 26th.

Thursday was the first full day in Kyoto, and also my father's birthday. Unfortunately by the time I'd remembered that he'd already disappeared, with my brother, to the coin laundry down the street. We had breakfast at the Ryokan, very tasty, and me, Tech Support, Mom and J-Po set out for some sight seeing.

Most of us had already seen some of the major sights, so we let J-Po lead us to some smaller shrines and temples over on the East side of Kyoto. First we got a little lost and talked to the cutest little Japanese lady who set us right. Our first Shrine was dedicated to Susanoh-no-mikoto, Kusanagi, and bunnies. Yes, it was a fertility shrine.

The sky started dropping big fat raindrops to add to the atmosphere at the small, quiet shrine. We checked out the little charms for purchase, all adorable and adorned with bunnies, but none of us knew anyone pregnant so we could not justify the purchase.

We slipped next door to an even smaller and more unremarkable temple. The main sights there was a well that some famous monk had seen his reflecting in, and a plum tree.

There was some other atmosphere as well.

Then we climbed up the hill to a much larger temple and wandered around the grounds. It was still raining and the quiet and rain added to the solemnity of the experience. There were no loud bustling crowds in the temples, and we could enjoy the experience without feeling hurried by the people bumping against our backs.

Japanese graveyards are wonderful. I have an odd fondness for graveyards anyway but I do like theirs the best overall. We walked through a few large ones and enjoyed some of the odd headstone type things we came across. We chatted with J-Po and caught up with him on some things.

Then we came down and went several blocks to Nanzenji, a temple I'd been to before and quite liked. We went up the gate, which had steep stairs I'd completely forgotten, and then looked out at the beautiful landscape at the edge of Kyoto.

We came down and walked over to the aqueduct where some people were doing art, and then climbed up to the mountain behind the temple. Ever since I'd been there last year I'd wanted to go further up to mountain, but unfortunately neither mum nor Jason were up for that. I only got a little further than I'd gotten before, just far enough to perk my interest.

I told Tech Support I wanted to go up there again, and he said he'd come with me.

At that point people started getting hungry and tempers started getting short. We went down to the bus and shot over to the Gion area, where we took another bus to actually get into Gion. We went down a sweet little street full of places to eat that had closed about a half an hour ago (it was about 3:30pm by now). Tempers fraying further, we finally found a Muji Deli and enjoyed a peaceful little lunch.

The department building we were in of course had a Muji, but I'd already found all the clothes I liked, and a large bookstore for several floors. I explored the bookstore but despite the expansive section of cookbooks and childrearing books, found little that interested me in the Knitting/Crochet section.

We then explored Gion, an area Tech Support had wanted to explore since last year. We didn't have too much time, I found a bookstore that did have some neat craft books, Mum left us, and we found some bizarre, hip hop style shirts.

We had to hurry back in time for a bizarre birthday dinner with my father at a little restaurant called Cafe Beret. The Prosciutto Sandwich that most of the party had consisted of one sliver of prosciutto, lettuce and mayonnaise on wonder bread. An opulent banquet it was not.

Dad headed back to the hotel and the rest of us went to get some pastries for him to enjoy. We split again and the boys took the pastries back while mom and I went to a craft store we'd been to before and I found a book I'd been looking for.

Back at the ryokan I enjoyed a little down time with my parents, eating half of a rich pastry with my mother. We also found out that ours was not the only group where tempers had become short, which was a bit of a relief. I went out to find a karaoke place with Tech Support, Lil Bro, Meggish, her fiance, and J-Po. Meggish and I were fading fast and the two karaoke places by the station were both busy and had a questionable number of english songs so we went back home instead to collapse.

Raw Fish Raw Fish

2007-08-10T23:11:00.000-07:00

Wednesday was our last day in Tokyo. Determined to finally see the Tokyo fish market, Tech Support and I set the alarm for 6:30am. We'd gone to bed at around midnight, so this was quite the commitment. The alarm went off, whimpers ensued, and we got Meggish, her fiance, and Theo to join us in the adventure.

Too bad the fish market was closed. Sad and tired, we consoled ourselves by eating raw tuna on rice from a Blade Runner-esque street-side shop. It was delicious, and we almost felt healed.

We packed up our stuff and checked out, spending our last hour in Tokyo by going to a previous favorite, Trunks Ya. Then we got our stuff and headed to the subway, and then Ueno. We spent the next hour in an exciting bit of bureaucracy, messaging Jason and trying to coordinate ourselves on the bullet train. We made it on the 12:40 train. I spent the 2 1/2 hour ride catching up on blogs-to-be-posted, and then passing out against Tech Support. When I woke up, we were in Kyoto.

Tech Support and I had previously stayed in our Ryokan so finding the place again was as easy as sushi. We met up with my parents, who were having a grand time and had even rearranged the rooms to our advantage. After a brief rest the girls ventured out to Kyoto.

We wandered around the fair sized underground shopping area for a few hours (at least 1 hour too many). I remembered many of the shops from previous visits, but there were a few new faces as well. I scoured the bookstore for craft books, but passed on the lovely, but expensive, clothing.

Then we joined up with most of our party for another old friend - the Kaiten Zushi place at the South Exit. The sushi is okay and the price is cheap. To my surprise I ate a moderate amount, losing steam faster than I filled up. Tech Support and I left by ourselves and spent a few more minutes exploring the station, and finding another bookstore, before we went back.

Tech Support had reserved the public bath for us, and it was my first chance to share the bath with him. Unfortunately while Shimizu is lovely, their bath is scalding hot. I enjoyed showering and then poured lukewarm water over myself to try and combat the heat of the day and felt satisfied despite the lack of soaking.

Carp vs. Swallows

2007-08-06T22:47:00.000-07:00

Originally Tuesday, July 24th

When I woke up Tuesday I was in a completely different world than when I'd gone to sleep. Any trace of the fog was gone. Outside Mt. Nantai was tall and impressive and it was hard to imagine we'd been totally unable to see it until that point.

Since it was 5am I had to try and sleep a bit more, but as soon as it hit 6am I got dressed and ran out. The others were asleep and I wasn't going to wait around. I walked down the street to the parking lot with the freaky vending machine. In the daylight the place was pretty benign so I continued along an asphalt path.

The area was beautiful. My mind wandered freely along with my feet and I regretted not exploring my own area of the world more this way. I only had about an hour and a half and no watch, so I walked as far as an old Italian Embassy.

I climbed along an empty riverbed with stairs that lead nowhere until I was back on the asphalt road again. The air was cold but I'd managed to myself up with all the walking. Thankfully my foot wasn't hurting much.

I got back and found that the other room, which held Meggish's crew and Lil Bro, was still asleep. Tech Support had gone off to shower and my parents were laying on their futons. They were all impressed with the change a day had made on the scenery.

We ate our breakfast, another fantastic meal prepared by the lovely people at Miharashi, and got our stuff together so take we could get going. My parents left first since they had to go all the way to Kyoto, and the rest of us ambled after. We waved at them as we went by, on our way to Kegon Falls.

The mob scene started there. Dozens of children from several different countries were running around. Still, we enjoyed our view of the huge waterfall, and paid the extra money to take an elevator down to the base and get splashed by the mist. As we got onto the elevator I realized I'd left my cell phone charger behind. My cell phone is my favorite camera.

Tech Support and I left a little ahead of the others, with him jogging ahead, to run back and get the charger. Despite our best efforts we had no chance of getting onto the next bus. Unbeknownst to us, the rest of our party hopped onto the wrong bus while we ran around. They would spend the next hour and half traveling to the top of a mountain and back down again, arriving disappointed and upset to have missed all chance of seeing anything more in Nikko.

Totally oblivious to this, Tech Support and I caught the correct bus and went down to the shrines.

We saw the famous "hear-no-evil, speak-no-evil, see-no-evil" monkeys, and heard a monk clang together two pieces of wood that made metal in the walls and ceiling reverberate. We looked at pictures of the sleeping cat and grave of Tokugawa Ieyasu rather than paying the extra 520 yen to see them in person.

The sun may have made the lake beautiful but it made walking around the shrines miserably hot. Add to that the crowds and I was already wishing it was like the day before again. I had a good time hanging with just my boy, but my pleasure was subdued by the conditions.

The sacred horse from New Zealand was a little strange. No really, that's what it is. No, I don't understand.

We managed to visit everywhere but one Shrine, but as time was running out we decided to meet up with the others. This is when we finally discovered what had happened. As we boarded the train back to our hotel in Tokyo everyone was a little quiet, because everyone was a little miserable.

The day was destined to be long however, so we went back to our hotel and rechecked in. Shigetsu Ryokan in Asakusa is lovely and they had our rooms all ready for us. After about an hour everyones feelings were mostly repaired and we headed out for a baseball game, we were going to see the Carp versus the Swallows.

Forget the game itself, American baseball fans have nothing on their Japanese counterparts. The sheer effort involved with supporting their team was noteworthy. They chanted, banged things together, let off balloons in unison and waved very large flags around.

There were also half a dozen girls wandering around with large beer dispensers strapped to their backs, which a few of us took advantage of.

The day was not quite over however, because we enjoyed an abortive effort to get dinner and a little shopping done in Shinjuku. It was too late and the shops were closed and we had to get back to our hotel, so mostly we wandered around Shinjuku at night. By then I was exhausted and mostly just wandering around, following them.

We got to our hotels just shy of 11PM and feasted on donuts for dinner before passing out. Tech Support and I set our alarms, eager to try and get to the Tokyo fishmarket for once.