Just Because I Could

I made myself pancakes this morning. Whole wheat, oat pancakes rolled up with strawberry jam filling. Ever since was a little girl I have preferred jam in my pancakes. There is no love loss when I am out of maple syrup. Its the jam and preserves that take over the door of my fridge not the sticky golden nectar.

With a stack of the hot, golden wonders I push aside a tower of the books and note books that litter the coffee table. Putting my ever present cup of Earl Gray down on a coaster I slide the plate out of the other and it steams next to my key board. NPR is streaming through my lap top telling me about today's good, bad and ugly as I take a pancake and smear a generous amount of strawberry jam down the middle. I roll it up in my fingers and eat every one just the same.

With a pancake in one hand and Earl Gray in the other I wonder silently to myself, "Why is it that I have never made pancakes for just me until now?" Well the fact of it is, this is my first pancake morning alone and since I make the best pancakes I have ever had I don't think this is going to be the last.

Letter, To Chiuaua Owner

(I run into a few characters while I am out and about in sunny California and this man and his dog caught my attention.)

Dear Chiuaua Puppy Owner,

Your Chiuaua is the cutest puppy I have seen in years. (I should know as I regularly check a website called cuteoverload.com.) I was taken by our brief glance. Your puppies bright, black eyes meeting mine, in the double left hand turn lane off of Fremont. Its little damp nose streaking your minivans window as you struggle to keep it from jumping on the dash was a heart warming moment I will not soon forget.

You also looked over for a moment and I have to say that I was taken by you too. Your clean shaved head in concert with your long, dark brown beard that swept at the collar of your rock'n'roll t-shirt that was in turn engulfed by a black leather vest was something to behold. As if you could not have planned your look any better the tattooed sleeves that so colourfully covered your arms must have extended up your neck because more of it was dangerously close to your left ear. Ah! That left ear that held the gold earring that just made the look complete.

The wonderful contrast of one of the largest, most menacing looking men I could ever begin to describe. With the tiniest, cutest Chiuaua puppy squirming in your overly large tattooed arms. While franticly licking your face as you drove will make not only my night, but perhaps my week.

Kind Regards,
Fidelia

Adventures in Hiking: Half Dome

I am a novice hiker. I do about eight miles on average each hike and I find that to be more than enough challenge and fun for me. Last summer was my summer of hiking. It was epic and unforgettable. However, this year with so much moving and travel my hiking has gone by the way side for adventures of a different kind. There was one hike that toped my mile list last summer; it was 11 miles of beauty. Legging Half Dome at 16 plus miles puts them all to shame.

To start, the drive was four hours to the hike itself. We all met at 8pm, drove into the night, and started the epic hike at midnight after joining some fellow hikers. The moon being just past full meaning we could go without using our head lamps for much of the way. This was part of the beauty I was looking for. Seeing a mountain landscape by the light of the moon is hauntingly beautiful. The full moon also meant our little party of seven was joined at the trail head by over 25 more eager hikers. By the end of the night we will have seen more than 50 hikers populating the trail and peppering it with their bobbing head lamps above and below.

The plan was to make it to the top before sunrise and have a breakfast befitting such an epic struggle as the sun peaked over the valley. I was by far the slowest in the group, but that did not matter much after the first two gruelling miles of pavement (yes, the first leg of the trail was paved) up to The Stairs. Much like Gollum leading the hobbits into Mordor we climbed huge carved chunks of blasted rock made into the steepest stir way I have ever experienced. By this time it was just Tim and I, the others having gone ahead long ago. The beauty of the Mist Trail is in the falls that almost constantly soak the stairs in a fine mist. With the light of the moon on the huge gulf below and the sound of the water rushing by it was the experience of a life time.

After the stairs was a long stretch of flat sand with a slow moving stretch of river next to it and then more steep up. By this time I was no longer paying attention to my surroundings. The temperature was clod enough for a jacket, but too hot to hike in. The last two miles were the hardest thing I have ever done. I have hiked one 14ner (that's a mountain over 14,000 feet high) and this was much more of a struggle. Every step was the greatest effort and I did not want to stop till we got to the Cable Route. I knew I would not get to the top when told what the Cable Route was. You see I am afraid of heights, but I was going to get as close as possible.

I made it to my summit at 6:00am. It was just 3/4 of a mile from the top, but the 3/4 of a mile that was strait up. I laid on my rock, had a small snack with Tim and sent him off to the Cable Route. I took sunrise photos of the valley below and slept for almost two and a half hours laying on my pack, bundled into my coat and gloves as the sun warmed everything it touched. It was glorious. The guys came back down and we cooked breakfast, ate, rested, and talked of the beauty surrounding us. Instant coffee never tasted so good.

Coming back down we were four once again and played on the rocks, looked at the landscape in the morning light and chatted. We stopped by the over look to the falls and I rinsed my face and neck in the icy cold water as a rock squirrel tried to eat Tim's pack for breakfast leftovers. Seeing the trail in the light of day is like hiking a different trail altogether. The world opens wide and you can see now what you only heard before.

We got back to the car exhausted, dirty, hot, and triumphant. We stopped at a roadside diner and had a great meal of burgers and milk shakes. The drive home was long, but quite as the passengers were dozing. Again coffee never tasted so good. I pulled Andrew's car in front of his place and Tim and I packed up our car, said our good bye's and drove home to much deserved showers. All told it was 24 hours of adventure and thought at some points I struggled it was worth every step.

Sweet, Swirling, Steaming Sensation.

I bought a new mug. Its the most expensive mug I have ever bought. A gift card was given to Tim for a referral and he in turn gave it to me. $20 won't buy you much from Starbucks, but it will get you two very expensive overly large (clearance) mugs, one pastry, and one small frozen all too sweet beverage. I have also just bought a new tin of lose Earl Gray and have reveled in each morning sip since opening it a few days ago.

My poetry will not be making me any money, but I liked this one and thought I would share...

Tea.

Tea is Comfort.
Steaming in my favourite mug,
every morning, waiting for me.
Swirls of dark perfume,
wisping sweetness of beauty.
Speaking of the day to come,
longing for the mornings.

The Glass Is Half Full

After a hard day touring Liechtenstein, what with all the beautiful mountains and cool stuff to see, we were exhausted. I was in need of a beer. My brother and I decided to split one because the bottles are full pints. Its not that neither of us could drink a whole pint, its that we didn't really want to have a beer, but its the done thing when one is on holiday in the Alps. We order at random, my MO when traveling, then that first sip tells me that this is the best beer I have ever had. My brother grins across the table at me and we order another.

Going Home

I am heading home in less than 24 hours. I will miss this wonderful place and all the adventures that have been had, but those will have to wait until I get home. I will be posting more of my time here in the Alps from home, but as I have no pictures I want to have those when I post some of the things I have seen.

Until then.

Not In Kansas Any More

I am looking out at another beautiful day here and am reminded of the storm we had a few days ago. This is an excerpt from my journal...

"Right now there is so much wind raging outside it feels like a tornado is coming down the valley! The dark clouds are gathering over the mountains and foothills and a violent wind is crashing against everything! Its crazy. The trees are half bent over and things are creaking, snapping, and flying all around.

I have not seen anything like it in a very long time. The sky looks almost like its boiling. The open windows are slamming in protest to the wind's assaults and Jen is securing the last of them in the living room. Batten down the hatches!"

Ever since that day on every outing Jen and I have there are signs of the storm everywhere. Down trees ripped out of hill sides with roots as tall as me twice over. I see crews of men cutting off branches that are dangling awkwardly and removing large old trees that fell victim to this great wind.

Today, however, is beautiful and I have already been to the Saturday market here in Lustenau. I think another great bike ride today is in order and perhaps some swimming in the river.

It's Not What You Think

I have been having a great time in Austria going many many places and doing even more in those places, but all the adventuring aside there is one kind of adventure that all travelers understand. Not all places have castles, or big lakes, or oceans, or mountains, or expansive rocky shore lines. People in these unknown places travel in different ways. Some travel by bike, or car or foot, or cart and donkey.

However, most of us are prepared for those kinds of surprises. We know that there will be language complications and at some point we will falter and get rice instead of noodles in some back corner stall in the night market. All of these things travelers expect to see and experience, but if you find yourself traveling through a foreign land there is something that no matter where you go is universally strange. The food and let me tell you its not always what you think it is.

I have walked into a local market and been shocked to see that there is no shampoo, or toothpaste, no you get that at the apocathary around the corner. Better still I once realized that in one place all there produce was sold in market only twice a week. Even in the States in many places you have to go to a different store to buy alcohol. The buying of food is set by tradition. It can very from town to town even.

Well now that you have located the food what is it? That tea you are buying looks good. Just some plain loose black tea, tea is tea, right? Not always true, but you get lucky and it is. You look for things you might recognize. Brands that might be familiar to you and then you realize the world is being taken over by Nestle and Kraft. Their every where. The water you're drinking is Nestle water! But it doesn't matter, you don't know what you're buying even if you do recognize the logo.

The worsted is what has happened to me countless times. I think I am out buying something common, how silly of me, and see the word emblazoned on the front of familiar packaging. Zucker, you know what that is because its in your 15 word repertoire of this language. Excellent! You pick up the bag, its smaller than they are at home, but that is not surprising. On inspection you know its sugar, feels granulated (You remember that powered sugar incident, lets not repeat that one.) and you believe you are buying something to sweeten your afternoon tea.

Triumphantly you pay for it, take it home, and put the kettle on. Cheerfully, it comes to a whistling boil and you pour some gurgling water into your waiting cup with tea already inside. You add the zucker and ah, first hot sip. Strange did the tea taste like that before? *Sip* You ignore the strange flavor for the first cup because you believe its you. Its been a long day and you're tired. That's it, yes, tired.

You have another cup in the morning. Same thing. What is wrong with my tea? Its...sour. No. Not sour exactly. You try, but you can't shake it. This feeling its your newly acquired prize. You stick your finger in the bag and taste the contents. Its sweet for sure, but its sour too. Not like a sour you have had before. Its a good kind of sour. The sugar looks at you daring you to look at the ingredients list. You do and with a sigh you see there are seven very long words you don't understand. Sugar should only have one.

On a second inspection you realize your folly its made from fruit. That sour taste is the fruit showing you its there. You have a 1000g of it. You look at your tea. Take another sip. Its not so bad. You could get used to this.

Kettles whistling and I could use another cup...

My Germany

Waking I see the weak sunlight on my walls and hear the soft rhythm of rain outside. The first of the concert of birds are congregating for the morning performance. Looking out the window I see the sun just peaking over the tips of the mountains and I know its early.

I wash up for the day, get dressed, run down to the bakery downstairs and buy breakfast in my broken German as the shop women look on me with endeared amusement. Then, back with pretzel in hand, I make coffee and set a simple breakfast of cheese, fruit, and a pretzel. I have done this every morning with only one exception. Setting it up and eating this simple meal with a book each morning is predictable and never varies. However, It has not lost its power to excite me, this trip to the bakery, and I find great amounts of pleasure in trying every kind of cheese and fruit the markets have to offer.

Its the simple things that make up my Germany. The castles are a fairy tale and a dream of the past, but this simple breakfast I take with the birds each morning and the long walks in the beautiful country side with so many Germans riding bicycles and gardening are what make it Germany for me.

Beauty Thy Name is The Alps

We are winding our way through the hills surrounded by villages that look strait out of old WWII movies, but from the old black and white films turned vibrant shades of deep greens, pale blues, and rich browns. The air is crisp and cool as only the mountains can know. There are Alpine lakes the color of deep blue and as clear as glass. I walked through the cool wet grass towards one of them and felt as if I could just reach down and snatch a fish glinting sunlight off its scales just below the surface. The sight of the mountains reflected in this natural looking glass fills the blood with adventure and daring you did not know you had.

Driving farther along the road I see the white spire of a castle in the distance, then a turret, then the great walls. It springs from the ground of the tallest hill top like a great white spike through the green and mist threatening a take over of the heavens above it. No wonder some one thought to put a castle here. This is our destination, to explore Neuschwanstein and the surrounding area.

We went on the stock tours through the great halls and told about the Lords and Ladies that resided there. The same dry script for every tour, every 30 minutes, for 8 hours a day, but that is not why I come to these places. I come to imagine what it was like for those servants creeping around the narrow passage ways between the drafty walls to get the fires lit. The walls have ears. Ever wonder where that saying came from? Its from what the servants (and others wanting to spy) heard from those cramped tiny passages about the lives of their masters while trying to not be seen or heard, but always seeing and hearing. A haunting thought.

My First Cup!

As most of you know I am in Austria for the next few weeks staying in this "swap" house with my sister-in-law. There is the language barrier as neither of us speaks German. I speak and understand about 15 key words and she understands a few less than that so she defers to me for the translation. You can see how this is all going to go, but we are both seasoned travelers and have done more difficult things than work out a language. It helps that the locals in this sleepy little town are uber nice and speak rapid (most slow down when they see we are perplexed) German to us trying to explain where the supermarkets are.

We are having a great time and this is my second morning here. Yesterday was spent convincing ourselves that the sun should be up and so should we, taking walks around the village, and getting a Sunday morning treat from a bakery. The weather could not be finer, the village could not be cuter, and the people could not be nicer.

The sun is starting to peak through the retreating rain clouds from the nights magical rain storm. They remind me of Colorado rains as I am surrounded by mountains, but with a bit more order to them, and the smell of fresh baked pretzels is filling my bedroom.

It's Monday morning for me and after paying too much for really good coffee in a cafe/bakery yesterday we bought some espresso grounds. Well this morning was my first go with this espresso maker. To tell you the truth, looking at it I was concerned I would not get an in-house cup for my remaining time here (Where does the water go?). But this morning I produced a not-too-bad pull of espresso and steamed some milk to go along with it. I think everything is going to be smooth sailing from here.

My Mother

My childhood was blessed with family, companions, places to adventure freely, and the best mother anyone could ask for. It is not always what you are taught, sometimes its how you are taught that makes the lesson. I could thank my mother for a great many things, but I think I will only mention one.

My brothers and I were encouraged to roam freely, explore, and adventure through the long hot summer months. Swimming, fishing, climbing, biking, boating, and exploring. This was our childhood packed with Koolade and peanut butter sandwiches. We even had cousins that were adept at getting into mischief with us. We were more like The Dirty Half Dozen with fishing poles, pocket knives, and buckets at the ready. It is a testament to the resilience of children and our parents first aid skills that we all made it out of childhood with all our limbs in-tacked.

I wonder if my mother ever thought, “That's enough!” after so many stitches and broken bones, ours and hers. If it ever crossed her mind she never spoke of it and because of this freedom in childhood my mother raised three very adventurous strong children. As Mother's Day creeps up on us all the days get longer and warmer transporting me to those great days of adventure and coming home to a cold glass of ice tea and a hug.

I am about to take yet another adventure in the coming weeks. Though I live many states away and am an adult she will be concerned as I travel across the Atlantic. There is no doubt that my mother worries about her children, even now when we are all grown, she is our mother and for that I will be ever grateful.

I Have Some Gear

I have enough adventure gear to keep me busy for a lifetime. Well in an apartment that is this compact what do I do with it all? Hang it on the walls! Yes, that is my mountain/road bike in my eating nook inside the kitchen just out of reach of the fan. That's my wine rack right next to it. Surrounded by books, tea and adventure gear. What more could you want out of an apartment?

Excellent Finds!

On Saturday last weekend Tim and I went for breakfast just to have some excellent hashbrowns. After breakfast we had formulated a plan to get the planting done for the pot garden in the front of my place. I don't have much green space, but I do have this 20' by 15' slab of concrete right out of my door. A blank slate, excellent. I have been working on plans to make this a pot garden and patio sitting area. There is a lot of afternoon sun and perfect shade for a little table and chair set. I found these pots and shelf on craigslist for a steal.

I have been haunting the local second hand stores in the area looking for just that; things to use for my outdoor space. So, on Saturday, as is custom for me, we went looking at a Goodwill I don't normally get to for garden things. We did not find any garden things, but what we did find was most exciting. We found the matching couch to the love seat and chair set I got off of craigslist.

There it was just sitting among the other furniture looking just perfect. I was elated. The luck of finding the missing piece to the set was almost too overwhelming. Speaking of overwhelming, looking at the size of the piece was giving me some second thoughts about getting it. Would it even fit in the living room? An inner debate was raging between wanting extra seating for guests and the worry of it consuming the living room like Godzilla.

I began my deliberation by checking the price, $99. That was excellent. I gave it a looking over for any damage that might have caused it to be given away. The sofa was without any visible marks. The whole thing looked good, but then I sat on it and discovered it was missing a support slat. Easily fixed and now I knew why it was here.

Tim went and paid for it, $70 on sale, as I disassembled it with one of the staff who kindly supplied me with an allen wrench. We packed it in the car (I love furniture that comes apart) and were off, dropped it off at my place, took some quick measurements for the missing slat, and went to get the gardening supplies for the day.

We then spent the rest of the sunny afternoon potting. Here's the start of the garden! I will post more pictures of it when its bushy and green. Planting was so much fun. I really love plants; there is something wholly satisfying about growing your own food.

Well the missing slat was easily fixed. I cut, sanded, painted, and fastened it together in about 30 minutes on Sunday. Here it is in the living room. I love it, but I am not sure I am going to keep the set-up like this.

What Is That?

That is a sweet red bean shake. I have come down with a slight cold and Tim ran out to get me my favorite Asian pick-me-up. This drink is made with whole sweet red beans, crushed ice, coconut milk, a bit of sugar, and some clear bean noodles.

Though I know some or most of you to be revolted by the thought of having such a thing even in close proximity to you its one of my all time favorite Asian things. Ok, I am going back to my book and getting some tissue on the way.

Coming Along Nicely

I spent a day and made curtains out of this old silk duvet cover I've had for years. I loved this duvet when I bought it, but realized the first night sleeping under it that it was the worst possible thing to put on my bed. The blanket inside the duvet was always slipping to the bottom of the bed and I was perpetually cold and frustrated.

Though I kept it as I loved how attractive a color and fabric it was the fact remains it was very impractical and not of much use in a closet. When I was packing to move to California I discovered it once again, forgotten in a box, and pronounced it the worst possible thing to pack half way across the country. My mother protested telling me to keep it and make pillows or anything really as it was real silk and no one should ever just discard real silk. I being of a crafty nature at once knew she was right.

This is my first attempt at working with real silk and I must say it was a pleasure to work with. Being a natural fiber it didn't have the nasty stretch that marks the frustration of some sewing projects and it has this wonderful beauty only raw silk has. It really complements the pillow cases I bought in a market in China. With that and the beachy look of the love seat the whole room is turning out to be quite casual with a bit of vibrancy that truly is a hallmark of my particular style.

One For Me and One For You

I wanted to give the upstairs neighbor something as she has been so kind and I thought what's better than home made bread! I grabbed one of my tried and true cook books and found just the thing. A glazed raisin yeast bread. Simple 50's cooking at its best.

I decided that I wanted to make something a bit more intricate than just the loaves so I rolled it out after letting it rise once and cut it into strips. With some of the strips you can see I made balls and placed then into a large muffin pan. You can see it only holds six muffins at once so it was perfect for this bread. The other strips I took two at a time, twisted them together, then curled them into pinwheels and placed them in a 9" cake pan.

Baked everything for 25 minutes in a 375 degree oven, put them on the rack to cool, topped the final product with slivered almonds and a light drizzle of simple glaze, I think it made it bit more fancy. I also added some cinnamon to the dough for a bit of interest.

Not a Typo

This is a store just down the street from me and I just had to post this. It cracks me up every time I see it.

Another project

I have been working on my apartment trying to furnish it with as little money as possible. Its a project and a passion; everyone needs a hobby. I found this cool chair and love seat on craigslist for cheap. They are a beachy style black and white. The chair has this cool black and white tropical feel patter to it. I am using the love seat in the living room and the chair in my reading corner. They both appeal to me, but the reading chair needed a foot rest and all the ones I have seen are $50 or more. Well that just won't do.

On Monday I was perusing Goodwill hoping to find a night stand to refinish when I saw the perfect foot stool! There it was on top of the ugliest coffee table I believe I have ever seen. It was $10 on sale for $5! I went right out and bought some black paint, white mung fabric and got to work.

The sanding took a few hours, but it looked great when I was done. I on the other hand looked like I had been rolling in saw dust. I then got to the painting to have it match the rest of the furniture. Pretty easy really. Its all black so it took very little time to spray on and then I just needed to wait till it was dry.

As it was drying I took the top and covered it with the white mung fabric I bought. I just flipped it over, hammered some upholstery tacks in to it and it was all white then. I put it back together, tightened everything down and it was as good as new! I put it right into my almost finished reading corner with the chair. What do you think? Oh yah I know it looks like there is a flaw in the fabric, but its not. That's a wrinkle I need to steam out of the fabric so its nice and smooth. I think I will do that today.

It matches the place now and for about $10 I have the foot stool I was in need of. It looks like I am still on budget and ready to start refinishing that night stand I found! I'll keep you posted on that as it comes along.

The Edge of The World

This is the edge of the world for me. I took this in a place where there are no fences and the boundaries are so far off it doesn't even matter that they are there at all. It is an image that I look at every time I log into my computer just to remind me how big the world really is.

An old friend brought me here once and I will be forever great full that he did. My life being better for the journey, the constant rain, and the yaks.

Peppermint Tea

Its time. I have an appointment with a dentist who speaks Hindi, Punjabi and I really hope English, but that was not one of the "spoken" languages on the list describing her practice. However, she looked like the best choice as I was looking over the list provided to me by my new PPO. One thing I did notice is that not one of the dentists in my area graduated from any US school and they all seem to be from Iran or India. Ok there was one from Ohio, but really its the same thing. I picked the first one that “jumped out” at me and I will see her today. I know I need to go, but I really dread being yelled at in Hindi for what I know to be a crack in this back right molar. On the bright side I won't understand her.

I have been having trouble even eating for the last few weeks, I just know its cracked, but as I knew I would need insurance to cover this I have been waiting. Now with insurance card in hand I will be stepping into her office at 4:30 this afternoon for some chiding about waiting and hopefully the start of a new crown in the coming days. Therefore, I am sipping unsweetened peppermint tea, checking my email, reading my web comics, planning dinner (in hopes that I will be able to eat), and dreading what a small disappointed Indian woman might sound like swearing under her breath in Hindi. She could always do it in Punjabi I guess.

Ah, Paris

Tim and I found ourselves in San Fransisco yesterday, hungry and with sometime on our hands. Driving around in hopes of finding a nice cafe for some coffee for me and some breakfast for the both of us. Turning off the main streets we found ourselves in this little U neighborhood encircling this wonderful little park. We stopped at this little cafe next to historic South Park; we had no idea it was anything but a neighborhood till we saw the signs declaring it historic.

We got out to a bright and sunny morning with a crisp chill in the air and walked to this little cafe that I shouted, a little too enthusiastically, that we must go there. Walking through the doors we hear two people conversing in French, the host is in all black, there are only male staff and they are all in black too, and impossibly skinny. It is then I realize that this little experience is going to cost more than I wanted for just a cup of coffee and omlette. Searching over the menu my suspicions are confirmed. Breakfast is going to be over $15 each, but we stay as the atmosphere reminds us of a little Paris cafe, I do love that city.

It was everything I had hoped for when I shouted so emphatically the first time I saw it. The food was good, but the coffee, service and atmosphere were amazing. One sip of that coffee and I was in the kitchen of a wonderful French woman I met a few summers back. It was an amazing breakfast and could not be more pleased with it. We won't be going back unless we are willing to shell out a pretty penny, but it was worth every dime when the check finally came.

Fried Twinkies, Chocolate Covered Bacon, and Air Hockey

Tim, Jennie, Cesar and I all went to the pier in Santa Cruz this weekend. I have never done anything like this before so it was a really new experience. Its a fair on a boardwalk. There are roller coasters, cotton candy, an arcade with air hockey (a personal favorite of mine), and even fried twinkies. That's right, fried twinkies. Now unlike all the others in the party I had never heard of such an abomination. Apparently you can get them in other places too; like Las Vegas.

After acquiring some ride tickets the first stop was The Giant Dipper. An old wooden roller coaster that looked less sturdy than I would have liked. What do you know? Its a historical land mark. Great just what I want in my danger, a geriatric coaster. You only live once right? I went on it and now I can say I never have to do that again. I came out with three bruises, a whopping one on my right elbow, and a healthy fear of falling. The others seemed to think this was the best thing since sliced bread most likely because this thing was built before sliced bread even hit the supermarket shelves.

We went on to the arcade, my favorite place really, but first a stop at the salt water taffy stand. I got watermelon and its the best I have ever had. As I was watching this young woman behind the counter pack my little bag with the sweets I spot something behind the glass. Its chocolate covered bacon. Really, just another thing I never thought should happen to food right here in the case before me. Tim has made chocolate chip bacon cookies in the last few months and it looked like just the thing he would want to try.

With bacon wrongly disguised and taffy in hand we hit the arcade. Before we get to the games my sweets need to be sampled by all. Everyone agreed the chocolate covered bacon was either pointless or just plain gross. Just one more thing I can say I have tried so I never have to do it again. My taffy was fantastic. The games were as you would think at a place better stocked than Fort Fun. I played as many games as possible and even got a game of air hockey in with Tim. He beat me. I said I loved it; I never said I was any good at it. The Whack A Mole was broken and that was the most disappointing part for me. Tim and I took our tickets to the counter. I got a silly bottle opener and some temporary tattoos of the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo which I will be waring over this weekend.

One more ride for the others, I was not about to do another, and then it was off to the twinkies! Jennie and Tim both seemed to really want one and some how Cesar got one too. I think he gave into peer pressure. With the deep fried twinkies we walked down on to the sand and watched the sea gulls attack anything that looked like food and watch the sun start setting.

I did taste the twinkie and it was just as horrible as I had first suspected, but this year I resolved to try more things, be less judgmental and more adventurous. However, twinkies were not meant for eating deep fried or not, bacon was never meant to be covered in chocolate, and someday I will win a game of air hockey.

Old Pictures...

Just looking through some of my old pictures of my summer in Europe 2007. Check this out! mmm Dinner in Italy!

Sunday Bacon

You remember when everything was all hurry and rush in the family home on weekday mornings? Dad had to go to work and mom was so busy getting everyone off with breakfast and lunch (some mornings getting ready for dinner too) that it was a cold bowl of cereal and a quick kiss before the bus was there. Off to school and just another day in Junior High. (In my house mom was off to work too; it was crazy busy.) But remember Sunday morning? You get to sleep in, mom has gotten up to get a nice breakfast ready; pancakes or French toast, waffles if your lucky, eggs, hot coffee peculating in all its caffeinated glory, and bacon. Oh yes, it was Sunday morning, there was hot coffee, no where to run off to and crispy hot bacon. So, when I really love something like I loved those mornings sinking into a hot cup of coffee, some syruped waffles, and wonderful bacon; I call it Sunday Bacon.

I made a cake yesterday, red velvet with butter cream frosting. I made the frosting too. I am sitting here having a slice of that moist, not too sweet cake and a cup of hot Earl Gray with sugar and cream. Its the best cake I have ever made and I don't know if I dare to make a different one in the foolish hope that it too could be this damn good. I will have to try my hand at a chocolate cake next, but alas I may never make such a cake as this one. It was most definitely Sunday Bacon.

Sunny Sammie

I think he likes the new table.

I Have Arrived

A great many things have happened since I wrote last. I have made my move to California and am settling into my new apartment. I like to get myself situated as fast as possible, so needless to say I have one last box to empty and some books to take to the used book store downtown Sunnyvale today.

I am in desperate need of a love seat, some book cases for Tim's books, and perhaps a reading chair, but all that will come in time as I plan on furnishing most of the place with only things I find on Craig's List. I have been looking for a backers rack and I believe I will be picking one up this weekend from someone holding it for me and then the kitchen will be complete. I have two pictures here of the inside kitchen wall. There is no storage in this kitchen, seems to be a running theme in CA, so I built a pantry in the unused space. Does it seem that I might have too much tea?

It has been a challenge moving into a place of my own as I have never lived alone. Its a strange feeling waking up to no one, but Sammie. I have gotten out and found a nice cafe in downtown and a few other stores of importance, like Safeway, but I have yet to find my spot. I keep looking for the place that will make me feel like I live here, but I suppose as the furniture it too will come in time.

Ok everyone that's the update for now. I will write more here soon. I just seem to be busy getting my self settled so I have found little time to write, but do call if you are thinking of me. I almost always have time to chat. Just not while driving, I guess its illegal out here.

The Owner Is Packing

Sammie is my Maine Coon. If any of you know what that is you know I have a handful. He is one of the largest breeds of cat, long haired and not too happy about all the boxes. I have been getting myself ready for my move to California to be with my fiancé. He has even gotten me an apartment that will accommodate me and Sammie and I am looking forward to being with him, but it seems that Sammie has other ideas.

I begin to pack a box and he sits in it. If I take him out and continue packing he howls at me, I really mean howl. These cats have some lungs are not afraid of being vocal. Let’s just say he can wake the baby one floor down from her. Well he howls and then gets back in the box. I think he might be unhappy about moving again. I am told this breed is really adaptable, but I think the two moves in one year are getting on his nerves. Can’t blame him really I don’t want to move again for a while after this.

On top of the howling and sit-in protests in my boxes he has not let me sleep one night since I started past 6am. He also sits on me. He never does that, I mean I have had this cat for over 7 years now and he is sitting on me. He also won’t let me out of his site. I am told when I leave the house he mourns. Pacing around the house and howling. It’s not like he is alone, but he seems to fret that I might not return.

Well all this aside I think he will like being in California. Tim was always his favorite person and if I could just get it through to him that’s where we were going I am sure he would settle down. Sadly he is a cat and as such cannot be reasoned with so I will continue pushing him out of boxes and turning the music up to keep the howling from getting too beyond my threshold for paranoid cats.

Taxes And A Two Year Old

Waking up to the sunshine streaming into my windows I look at the time, ugh, 6:45. I lay in bed for about two minutes till Sammie decides I should be up. As the cat continuously paces on my chest, tries for my face, and is chatting at me like some gossipy teenage girl about the latest cute boy I realize if I am to get everything done for this move I have to get my list down to a manageable size. Pushing a protesting Sammie off my stomach I get myself up and ready for the morning.

PJs; check, contacts; check, coffee; check, breakfast; check, and last but not least all the forms I might need for my state taxes. Firing up the computer I sip my first cup with every intention of getting my state taxes filed before I do anything else this morning. The front door opens as the pc hums to life and I hear in a small sweet voice, “Good morning Aunty Heather!”. I look behind me and see Kaylee; she is a little over two years old and coming into her own personality. Her mother looks at my mother and wearily proceeds to tell her that little Miss Kaylee is uncooperative this morning. Great.

Well the taxes are nothing compared to a sly two year old who thinks she can get the upper hand. There are rules and I know them all, but Kaylee thinks I might not or that I might give in if she cries enough.

Breakfast; I am flipping through all the tax codes to find the deduction information I need and she proceeds to remove the towel off of her lap and begins to remove the bib. After thusly removing all clothing protection she goes to take her drink, but I remove it from her reach stating she may not have it till we replace the towel and bib. Those are the rules. She cries, loudly, hiding her face in her arms in typical dramatic two year old fashion.

Taking a sip of my increasingly cold coffee I look up from the tax booklet and ask if she is done with breakfast, she has had none of her oatmeal and one sip of her milk, she cries louder. Then she does something that makes me laugh. I know you are not supposed to laugh, but I can’t help it. She is rubbing her eyes in that fake crying that all children do when they are not getting their way and through her crocodile tears she pears up at me to see if I look concerned enough and if I will let her have her way now. I burst out laughing and tell her,” Those crocodile tears didn’t work yesterday on me. Why would they today?” This only makes her glare at me with the comprehension that this is not working and she immediately stops crying and tells me she is done with breakfast.

Enter Granddad; I ask if he knows where I might find the information I seek and he shows me where I might find it. Great just five more lines to work out! Kaylee sees her new mark and asks Granddad if she can have her cup and he begins the whole process of the towel and bib again with similar results. As she tells him under no uncertain terms will she be using the towel and bib this morning I am at the computer on the Colorado State Revenue site trying to get this paperwork filed. I ignore the screaming and chatter from the table and have almost finished when the site seemingly freezes. Great. It’s saved I will just get back to the previous page and start again. Almost finished now with less scream and crying in the background and more happy chatter.

Yes! Filled! A wave of satisfaction washes over me and I take one more sip of my now ice cold coffee. Ok, out of the high chair and now Grand mom needs to get Kaylee’s shoes on so they can go to the museum. That was a horror in the making. What’s up with this kid this morning? Shoes; on, jacket; in hand, stroller; in the trunk and finally child and grandparents out the door.

I need more coffee.

I Quit!

I quit my job. This is my last week and a chapter is closing in my life. I have been here for so long I almost can't remember what it is like not to get up and come to this office.

My desk is almost cleared of all its clutter of stuffed animals, stickers, scraps of paper, footballs, lotion, and books that I have collected over the years. The cards I have received that mean something to me placed in my purse, the strange things posted on my wall taken down and discarded, and the stuffed dogs given away. There is no longer anything left on the wall of my office save the fax number.

I am looking forward to moving to California and starting my life out there. All the adventure it will bring just waiting for me. My last day is on Friday and I am looking forward to moving on.

On Existence

Yamaoka Tesshu, as a young student of Zen, visited one master after another. He called upon Dokuon of Shokoku.

Desiring to show his attainment, he said: "The mind, Buddha, and sentient beings, after all, do not exist. The true nature of phenomena is emptiness. There is no relaization, no delusion, no sage, no mediocrity. There is no giving and nothing to be received."

Dokuon, who was smoking quietly, said nothing. Suddenly he whacked Yamaoka with his bamboo pipe. This made the youth quite angry.

"If nothing exists," inquired Dokuon, "where did this anger come from?"