Where is home?

One thing that's been difficult to explain to various people that we've met along the way is where we actually live... Dick, of course, likes to say that we're homeless - I'd rather describe us as nomadic! If home is where our friends are, we have many homes... the Bay Area certainly feels like home, as we had several serendipitous meetings while we were there. When visiting Cafe Oliveto in the East Bay, we ran into my colleague Debby Kelly from Tilia, with her husband Patrick and new baby Emma... while shopping in Mill Valley, who should wait on us at Tyler Florence but an old friend from Muir Beach, Barbara Herwitz... and of course we saw many former friends and foes on the tennis courts... nowhere to hide! I think the truth is that in this modern world, home is wherever we are, as long as we have our cell phone and computer.

We finished our California visit with a grand stay at Margaret and John's in Fairfax - including fun tennis, truffle pasta, fine wines, and an excellent Memorial Weekend party on Sunday. John was kind enough to drive us all the way to the airport on Monday (early) morning, and we set off on our bon voyage to Paris. Whee!!!

Walked off our jet lag with a dose of beauty at the Musee D'Orsay today, and look forward to two days at the French Open.

Hot Tubs and Peacock Feathers?

The cliche image of Marin County is that 70's idea of hot tubs and peacock feathers... and although I will admit to a bit of hot-tubbing in my day, the Marin County we know and love is so much more than that. We experienced the best of it this week with our friends Pam and Jerry. Waking up to the sunlight through the trees in Madrone Canyon, drinking coffee and watching the sun rise over the Bay, smelling the good warm redwood smells of the forest - that's the real thing.

We spent a day with Pam in West Marin at Pt. Reyes, which I'm guessing is one of the great small towns in this country. Lunch at Stellina to celebrate (belatedly) Pam's and Dick's birthdays - all locally grown ingredients and the freshest tastes on earth. Walking down the street, we noticed signs in the store windows to mourn the loss of one of Pt. Reyes' young men in Iraq - such a waste. He was obviously beloved in the town, but he'll never again shiver in the morning fog, then enjoy the slowly mounting warmth as the sun burns it away... never taste a briny Tomales Bay oyster, smell that beery, cheery smell when someone opens the door of the Western Saloon, or whiff the sharp tang of cheese in the making at Cowgirl Creamery. We're grateful for his sacrifice, and for the reminder that life is to be cherished.

Days of Wine and Roses

Yes, roses! Thousands of the beautiful, blowsy blooms everywhere we look - in the gardens at Filoli, on the lawns of Marin County, at the ends of the vine rows in Napa - red, yellow, coral, purple, pink. Roses were traditionally planted at the ends of vine rows to serve as the "canaries in the coal mine"; apparently they are botanically similar to grapevines, so if the roses begin to show signs of mildew or other disease, the vineyard manager knows to check up on his viniferous charges. That's fascinating and all... but the important thing is that the roses look magnificent against the perfect emerald green rows.

Saturday night was a reunion with old Wine Country friends - it seemed as if we had never left - great conversation and great vintages combined to make it a memorable evening. And everyone in the group seems to be at a crossroads in their life, as are we... interesting times.

Greg (our encyclopedic friend - who needs Google when we have Greg?) quoted a wonderful poem that's going to be our new motto:

"We're on the road to come what may
Over the hills and far away..."

California Here We Come...

… right back where we started from... sometimes I feel like the luckiest person on the planet. I’m sitting in our room at Michaela and Greg’s in Napa Valley – the sun is coming up and I have a corner view of green vine rows stretching to the horizon, birds chirping, olive trees shading the window. Yes – this is where we started from –and where my heart is, whever it is we may live.

Have had a whirlwind first week back in California – two days with ML, Peter and their two long-haired dachsunds, Sunny and Shadow (AKA “the girls”)… lots of tennis, laughter and catching up. Then a stay with Melanie and Andy in their charming home in the Berkeley hills, meeting their friendly and erudite neighbors and making a girls day trip to Filoli, a garden estate in Woodside that’s in the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

The estate was once owned by the Cunard family, of the Cunard and Matson shipping lines, and there was an interesting family connection for me… my grandparents traveled to Hawaii on the Cunard liner Lurline in the 50’s. Each night on the ship passengers were presented with the evening’s menu, printed on heavy paper, the covers illustrated with fantastic Gaugin-like paintings of Hawaiian native life. My grandmother brought these home to me, and I used to spend hours in my room, studying the illustrations and fantasizing about a life spent visiting exotic places...one of the sources of my lifelong wanderlust.

The connection? When Mel and I were touring the house – there were the menus – framed and lining the walls of the kitchen… just as colorful and exotic and fascinating as those childhood memories.

While the girls were admiring the flowers and the Hawaiian menus, Dick and his friend Peter Mock did a locals tour of Chinatown, enjoying a lunch that included many dried and delicious delicacies...

Golden Days...

Sorry we've been out of touch for a few days... we were happily lost in the Gold Country at the home of our friends Gabriele and Peter - no internet access... just golden hills, green oak trees, balmy weather, a fabulous full moon in clear starlit skies, and good friends to share it with. They have a beautiful home in Coarsegold, California, near Yosemite National Park. Coarsegold isn't easy to get to - it took us three days from Colorado, including a night in Las Vegas, where Dick won $141 playing poker - woo hoo! We stayed at the Paris Casino, which we thought was apropos, since we'll soon be seeing the real thing...

We also visited Baker,("Gateway to Death Valley!" "World's Largest Thermometer!"), Barstow, Bakersfield, and other not-so-scenic spots en route. And we discovered, while having cocktails with Gaby and Peter's neighbors in Coarsegold, that there is a Tarantula Festival in Oakhurst, which includes a Hairy Leg Contest, usually won by one of the local ladies. Who knew - this is creative entertainment at its best!

Saving the West

If there's anything that we've learned in driving around the West for the last month, it is that the natural beauty of this country is unique and uniquely worth saving... it's a treasure far beyond our economic woes.

The effects of global climate change are evident in the Rockies - the Ponderosas have been infested with bark beetles - the trees are in a weakened condition because of drought and are dying by the thousands - the grey skeletons of dead trees and the rusty red foilage of the dying ones create a nightmare scenario around Dillon and Vail.

And the kind of sprawling development we witnessed makes us wonder what (or if) human beings are thinking. We drove last night through Spanish Fork, Utah - possibly one of the most stunning places we've ever been - the amazing mountains and meadows are covered with ticky tacky brown box houses, as far as the eye can see...

Dick and Melanie had a fantastic time as fellow photographers these last few days, documenting the beauty of the area. I hope our generation can ensure that when our nieces and Mel's grandchildren come to visit the mountains in a decade or two, that beauty is still there for them to see.

Rocky Mountain High

It's so satisfying to see that the world has not lost its wackiness - we're visiting small towns around Estes Park, Colorado, with friends Mel and Randy... and wondering if it's the altitude that causes the excellent eccentric behavior in these parts. We spent some time today in Ward, Colorado - unarguably the best junkyard we've seen. Once a year, on a specified date, a hermit comes down from his place in the mountains above the town of Ward, dressed in a loincloth, and challenges all comers to a "rassle". Each year several of the town's strongest take him on - but nobody's beaten him yet. Randy thinks this has something to do with the loincloth thing...

Then there's the "Frozen Dead Guy" Festival in Nederland, Colorado. Apparently when one of the local guys lost his beloved grandfather, he decided to keep Gramps around by putting him on dry ice in the Tuff Shed behind his house. This amateur cryogenic technique actually worked - he just brought in new dry ice periodically to keep the temperature consistent. Some of the more uptight citizens of Nederland (didn't know there were any...) took him to court, as they were concerned about health issues - but they lost. So, in celebration, there is a Frozen Dead Guy Festival every year in March, which includes a hearse parade, coffin races, toasts to Gramps (he's still chillin'), and other festivities - sponsored in part by Tuff Sheds, of course.

Life and Love - they sure taste good

We have been nourished in so many ways on this adventure of ours... nourished by the warmth and strength of old friendships, by the beauty of the landscape, by the velvety muzzles of horses and the goofy smiles of dogs. But the strongest bond of all, it seems - the thread that ties it all together - is food, glorious food.

There's a reason that breaking bread and sharing wine is the foundation of religious ceremony around the world... nothing is more symbolic of shared life and love. Our friends have shared their homes and their delicious food with us for thousands of miles now - and we're truly grateful. The ultimate dining experience of the trip for us happened this week, at Frasca in Boulder, the restaurant owned by our friends Bobby and Danette Stuckey (and their partner, the talented chef Lachlan McKinnon-Patterson).

At Frasca, where they specialize in the wine and food of Friuli, you feel that there's a genuine delight in sharing the excellence of the meal... this is not a temple of haute cuisine, but a room full of happy people, talking, laughing and enjoying the food, the company, and the moment. The energetic, fresh-faced, bright people who work there truly understand what they're serving - they all go to Italy together each year to visit the wineries, restaurants, artisan bakers and cheesemakers of Friuli so that they can assure the most authentic experience possible. (And, as a former manager, I'm thinking a bit of bonding goes on there as well - the staff's friendship and teamwork are palpable).

My wish for all my friends is that they might have the chance to experience it just once - awards and given rave reviews are great, but you have to taste for yourself... buon appetito!

This cowgirl definitely doesn't have the blues!

All my childhood cowgirl fantasies were realized this week in Durango. I used to want to be Roy Rogers (never Dale - what a wimp!) or Hopalong Cassidy... riding horses uphill at a breakneck pace, or chasing the bad guys across the desert. Luckily for the grown-up me, we spent two days with our friends Ben and Birgitta, their son Sam, their five horses, three dogs and two cats, on a fabulous spread in Bayfield, just outside Durango, Colorado. Heaven on earth for fantasy cowgirls! I got to ride bareback (a first) and then charge up and down hills (after a minor meltdown) just like in the movies.

Dick had a small mishap when his horse, Spirit, decided to run under a tree - but we decided that the scar looks very distinguished - kind of like a dueling scar, don't you think? (See photo). Luckily, he's a very good and calm rider, so no bolting or serious excitement.

Ben is a childhood friend of Dick's - they spent many happy hours gossiping about everyone they've known since grade school... and Birgitta taught me so much while we hung out happily with the herd. We went to Sam's track meet (they almost set a school record!), visited the hot springs in charming Pagosa Springs - and the guys solved all the world's problems, from the stock market to potential new sources of energy.

Then we drove on two-lane "blue highways" through the Rockies to Boulder - breathtaking in terms of scenery and in terms of oncoming cars. Safely at the Stuckeys - Happy Trails to You!