Thanks and Giving

Highway 12 in Sonoma at Thanksgiving time.

Just a few minutes from our house.

Lots of us Americans sat around the dinner table yesterday, gobbling up turkey and gravy and stuffing and potatoes and biscuits and cranberries and pie, pie and more pie (with whipped cream this time), until our stomachs broke. And what better reason than Thanksgiving? (For an amusing look at the history of Thanksgiving ... http://www.thanksgivinghistory.net/)

Three generations of Thanksgiving girls.

Left to right: Samantha, Nayla Rose, Joanne

There's a lot to be grateful for in these changing times, and if you're on our blog list and reading this, then you know that you're one of the folks we're most grateful for in our lives. Why else "do" life if not for family and friends and the myriad of experiences that come with that? I remember one of the last questions my Nana More asked me just a few days before she died was, "What was that about?" And I loved that question ... that crazy, tender question that has over 6 billion answers — one for each person on the planet.

(One of my favorite answers to this question is from Gertrude Stein who said, "There ain't no answer. There ain't gonna be any answer. There never has been an answer. That's the answer." ... always makes me smile!)

So in looking down a mental list of what this life is about for me, and what I'm grateful for, one of the latest things had to do with a recent phone call...

About a month ago our niece Amanda called and told us that she and her boyfriend Mark were getting married, and they wanted me to perform the wedding ceremony. Okay, it'd been a while since I'd lead ceremony, and after a tiny moment of self-doubt, my heart opened up full-on, full-out and I said, "YES! LET'S DO THIS!"

They chose the Pelican Inn in Muir Woods for their reception site and they wanted a blend of non-traditional and traditional ceremony on the beach a short walk away. Muir Beach can be pretty cold and windy in the middle of Fall, but miraculously enough (thanks to the voodoo of Amanda's & Mark's sisters) the day was sunny, clear, and absolute perfection.

Devon, a friend of Mark's, built a beautiful fire and as we began, Ted beat a drum and everyone filed by the fire tossing in sage bundles to fill the sea air with good wishes. We gathered in a circle around the bride and groom, and with a bit of structure provided by yours truly, everyone offered a piece of themselves to the ceremony with full open heartedness and loving intent.

(photos courtesy of Ted and Mark's sister, Jessica...)

Muir Beach, November 13, 2010

Grandma (Ted's mom) waiting for the festivities to start.

Could the beachy weather have been any more perfect?

Fire & sage bundle procession

The bride and groom.

Soon both had shed their shoes!

Amanda's friend Shannon made the wedding gown.

Haute, haute, HOT!

Lighting Unity Candles

"...do you both commit to making your relationship

the best it can be, now and always?"

Together, they both said, "Yes!"

The bridesmaids, "voodoo" sisters, Shanna & Vanessa.

Thanks for the great weather you two!

Mark and Amanda called us yesterday to wish us a Happy Thanksgiving from their honeymoon on the island of Kauai. The memory of their wedding is now a piece of my answer to Nana's question, ... for me, it's about enjoying as many experiences as I can, loving my family and friends, breaking my stomach on the delights of a Thanksgiving table, and everything in between. Thank you all for including us in your lives ... and for being in ours.

Peace out and hope you all had Happy Thanksgiving!

Hanai Halloween

(Hanai Family photo left to right:

Lola in Alphonso's lap, Mee, Bella in Lee's lap)

In Hawaii there is a deeply loving tradition called Hanai. Children without parents are "hanai-ed" into a family and become part of it, or a couple without children might be given a hanai child by another family or community member. It's a longtime practice that came from the highest place of loving and caring for one another. In fact, very early on, the first born child of a couple was often given to their parents as a sign of their deepest love and respect.

Our Hanai family lives in Tennessee. Years ago we somehow serendipitously found each other, not by intentional calculation, but by what I like to think of as "The Hand of God" moving us around like puzzle pieces and by all of us allowing ourselves to be moved. For sure, A Grand Design "hanai-ed" us together and we all just seem to fit in the deepest, most inexplicable way.

About nine years ago, Ted and I were the "accidental" conduits for Lee and Mee meeting each other. (It's a long story involving Mee's search for Angus, and Crystal Skulls and Teotihuacan). Mee lost her mom when she was 18. I call her the Woman of Many Mothers because she's pulled wonderful mother figures to herself over the years, and I've been graced to be one of them. And Ted, "Bubba" to the kids, is more a father figure to her than her blood dad really could have been. But more than parental roles, we all feel like we've played interchangeable roles for each other for an enormity of time, before and beyond this lifetime. Does that make sense? Oh well, sense or no sense, we love this family dearly and their children ARE our grandchildren, blood or no blood, sense or no sense and that's just the way it is, and we couldn't be happier about it.

So, we went to Nashville for Halloween to get some good Hanai-lovin' and whooo weeee doggies! did we git it bigtime!

(Ozzie? Is that you?)

(Love potion number Off Da Charts! And oh DJ ... Boo Gabba Gabba!)

(Avatar Bella - she did a lot of her make-up herself!)

(Lola Bug)

(Mr. Mysterioso)

(Day of the Dead at Cheekwood)

Autumn in more ways than one.

It's raining. The weather's getting colder, and the vineyards are being shocked into reds and golds. Pickers in slickers (love the rhyme) have frantically pulled in the last of the harvest for what has ended up to be a very challenging year for growers. Too much fog in the early summer caused late ripening, too much heat in August dried up grapes on the vine, resulting in about a 20% lower crop overall. What will this mean to the 2010 vintage? We'll see ...

And did I mention it's raining? For a couple of days now. Fall has definitely arrived in Sonoma county and all we want to do is cozy up around the fireplace and watch baseball. BASEBALL?! Really? Yep, I've turned into a Giants fan can you believe it? And yesterday they won the right to show up at the World Series. I'm surprising myself by being so excited. I'm not a huge sports fan in general, but when the competition gets down to the nitty gritty, something inside me perks up, and I'm all over it.

When I was growing up in Los Angeles, I loved baseball and followed every single player on the L.A. Dodgers team. In 1959 I think (the same year they won the World Series against the Chicago White Sox), my dad, brother and I were at a game at the L.A. Coliseum, and my dad (or was it my brother?) caught a baseball (foul ball between home plate and first ... we had great seats then) and took it down to the dugout to have star pitcher Sandy Koufax and catcher Norm Sherry sign it. Dad gave the signed ball to my brother, but somehow over the course of life, I inherited it and it sits on the mantel over the very fireplace we're cozying up to today.

(Look at Sandy GO!)

Last weekend, Ted, Joanne (my sister) and I drove up to Oregon to see my dad (now 89 years old). Since both my dad's younger brother (my Uncle Al), and my mom recently died we've had concern about how he'd react to losing his lifelong partner, but wow ... we were all pleasantly surprised. He seemed GOOD. Better than we'd seen him for a long time. My mom's declining years were intensely stressful on him, and although he misses her, the release of all that stress has smoothed out his life so he can just relax and "be". My brother (bless his pea-pickin' heart), lives with him and makes sure he's fed and takes his meds. Dad's also got a dog, Billy Boy who smothers him with unconditional doggy love, and Dad's grandkids visit whenever they can. One of them, Tifa, the family's lovable wild child, is pregnant, so he's also looking forward to his second great grandchild. Although he complains alot about his ailments and forgetfulness and all the vagaries that come with age, life is pretty good for the old guy and we're grateful.

(left to right: Me, Ted, Tifa, Dad, Joanne, Larry, Leslie)

I love what Maira Kalman (illustrator/author: http://www.mairakalman.com/) once said that all she thinks about in life is "how to live and how to die." As I watch my elders pass through their last phases, and I dip my toe into the water's edge of my own Autumn years, thoughts of "how to live and how to die" become more amplified. As much as I want to plan it all out and control it and hold on tight, I remind myself that I can only prepare so much, then I have to trust in something greater than myself and let life unfold as it will, and have faith, and love myself and others as best I can, and do what my dad does ... enjoy what I can and let go of the steering wheel and let life "be".

Happy Autumn Everyone!

A Pact

Years ago our friend Frank made a pact. He promised that at every Solstice and Equinox, he'd show up at the Bodega Headlands (cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean), to express gratitude to everything that Life gives us ... including the challenges that make us look at our lives in different ways.

The Autumnal Equinox was on the 22nd this year at 8:09 pm and was enhanced by a full moon rising just as the sun set (only happens maybe every twenty years or so I've been told). Ted and I bundled up and drove through vineyards and farmland to join Frank and others to honor this spectacular event.

Ted and I spend a lot of time indoors in our little 10'x10' office, glued back-to-back in front of our computers until our eyeballs bleed. So I was thinking the other day that all I wanted to do was run outside and get SLAPPED in the face by Nature. She didn't let me down.

We arrived at the Headlands just at sunset. In the west, the sun looked like a giant egg yolk dipping into the sea. At the same time, the full moon floated up and they seemed to nod at each other as they switched places in the evening sky. A cool, sharp wind SLAPPED me in the face and I laughed out loud.

(Moon rising photo courtesy of Rogelio Herrera)

As we all stood at the Headlands, holding hands in a circle, honoring the four directions, being blessed by a full Harvest Moon, giving thanks to Life for our lives, we were blown open by the Mystery of it all, forgetting the small details of our day-to-day existence and just fully experiencing the magnitude of being human.

Thank you Life ... and thank you FRANK!, for making a pact, and sharing it, and reminding us of what it really feels like to be wondrously, miraculously ALIVE.

"Oy!"

I have rich memories at this time of year, of family dinners at Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. As a very young child, my grandparents, and a great grandparent or two, were still alive - living links to an ancient lineage. Holiday time brought us all together at the dinner table where the Lineage Baton was being passed from the elders to the younger generations.

As sweetly sentimental as that may sound, my experience of those dinners was both wonderful and slightly torturous. I loved the energy and excitement of having lots of people in the house but by the time we all took our seats at the table I was always ravenously hungry. Surrounded by aunts and uncles, and old grandmothers with thick accents and equally thick heeled shoes, and large men with suspenders and tallits and yamulkas, I remember fidgeting at the table, bored by languages I didn't understand (Yiddish and Hebrew), smelling food from the kitchen that peaked my already roaring stomach, and wondering why there was so much "special" talk (prayers) over candles and bread and wine, and why we just couldn't EAT right NOW.

I didn't fully appreciate those rituals until later in life, when older relatives passed on, family members moved away and holiday dinners dwindled. I missed them and realized that joining together for a meal at holiday time not only continues personal lineages, but connects us to all human lineages that are thousands of years old — Rosh Hashana, Christmas, Ramadan, Diwalli, Kwansa, Cavepeople celebrating their Mastodon kill — whatever the holiday, whatever the form, the substance is the same ... people enjoying each other at special times of the year, building memories, and expressing love through food.

And that brings me to a story about this year's "High Holy Days" ...

Ted and I are finding joy in being closer to family up here. For Rosh Hashana we all gathered at my sister and brother-in-law's house for ... Chinese take-out? Yep, as much as I reminisce about those holiday dinners of my youth, Chinese take-out eaten casually around the table with lots of beer and laughter at Jewish New Year is equally as evocative, memory-building and loving. Where I enjoy tradition and it definitely has it's place, I'm also for new traditions in the making.

Enter Neela.

Neela is an East Indian woman who owned a wildly successful restaurant in Los Angeles called Bombay Café. Her talent was Indian home cooking and Oh Man her food was gooood! Neela moved up to Napa with her Cuban-American Jewish husband Franklin, a couple of years ago (about the same time we did), and opened "Neela's" some months later. Having loved our Bombay Café experiences down south, we were happy to discover her up here, so when we got her email about her Yom Kippur dinner — Jewish traditional food with Indian influences — who could resist that?

Yom Kippur Dinner at Neela's:

ON THE TABLE —

Raisin Challah (no Bernie, not as good as yours, but good)

Yogurt & Walnut chutney, Red Onion-Tomato Chutney, Fruit Chutney

Manischewitz wine.

Really! Manischewitz wine! For those of you who don't know Manischewitz wine, it was a staple at our family holiday dinners. It's sweeter than sweet, very syrupy, grapey and only 7% alcohol, but as a kid it used to make me loopier than Crazy Googenheimer. The waitress poured us a huge pour and guess what ... yep, loopier than Crazy Googenheimer.

STARTERS —

Latkes with smoked salmon and creme fraiche

Indian spiced deviled eggs

Smoked Trout with spiced garbanzo beean spread crostini

Pearls of Wisdom Soup with mini matzo balls and chicken meatballs in a chili-cilantro scented broth and a mirepoix of vegetables

ENTREE —

Brisket au jus with whole spices

Savory Kugel with cabbage and carrots and jalapenos

Asparagus with garlic and green chili

Pineapple and Avocado salsa

DESSERT

Apple Strudel with Cardamom Ice Cream

Raspberry Rugalachs

So how do you say "groan" in Hebrew? Or should we say it in Hindi?

Well in the Universal Language of Overindulgence, we'll just say, "Oy!"

Four 5-star weekends ...

Honestly, we're amazed. In May and June we spent four, 5-star weekends of deep, soul satisfying enjoyment. It's almost embarrassing how much fun we had and if I were a person who looked for "the other shoe to drop", I'd be hiding in a 1950's bomb shelter right now. (Okay there was that big 'ol Doc Marten that kicked our butts a bit ... a transmission gone wonky that had us leave our Ford Exploder in Coos Bay Oregon to drive home in a rental ... but let's not focus on that wee mishap shall we?)

FIRST WEEKEND:
Dennis and Karletta picked us up on a Saturday morning in late-May and we all drove up to Mendocino for the weekend. Dennis scored a vacation house up there and except for trying to break into a house we thought was the right one but wasn't, everything went smoothly. (The damp jeans we saw from the window, drying over the handlebars of a funky old exercise bike, and the general unkempt look of the place might have tipped us off, doncha think?!)

Ahhh! We found our "real" vacation house surrounded by huuuuuuge flowering rhododendrons, and redwoods conspiring in the ocean air. Like children, Karletta and I explored the woods and strange locked sheds that had us imagining all sorts of eerie madness inside. Dennis and Ted cooked a beautiful sausage pasta with salad and we had my new favorite cake, Semolina Orange Cake (so much fun to say out loud) for dessert.

Next day we met up with The Rose Lady.
This darling little gnome of a person walked us all over town to introduce us to her wonderful friends, the Heritage Rose Bushes of Mendocino. (http://www.mendocinoheritage.org/MHD-Sponsor-Gardens.html) And really, she talked to those bushes very personally, complimenting them on how well they came through the winter, or how they were or weren't being properly treated by their current owners (some of her rose bush "friends" were over 100 years old). And of course, since Karletta is of Portuguese heritage, we had to secretly poach a cutting or two from an old Belle of Portugal Rose with the hopes of rooting them at home. (Sadly mine didn't make it ... how are yours Karletta?)

We'd been told along the way that "Mendocino is all about Wine and Weed" and although we passed on the latter, we fully enjoyed the former. Stopping at Roederer Estates on the way into Mendocino, and Goldeneye on the way back, Anderson Valley consists primarily of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Gewürztraminer and White Riesling. There are also small acreages of other varietals such as Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Gris, Cabernet Sauvignon and Zinfandel. And no, we didn't try them all, but did get a good "giddy" on from the ones we had. Love that Roederer champagne!

Thank you D & K, for another fine (and completely overindulgent) adventure!


SECOND WEEKEND:
Our second stellar weekend was spent in San Francisco with long-time friends Bob & Marni, Wally & Shauna and let me tell you that having deep history with people you adore is the best soul food ever.

Bob & Marni and Wally & Shauna travel periodically together and they have this running game about who will get the best room. This trip, Wally was in SF for a convention and booked the rooms. When Bob and Marni showed up they'd been booked into a handicap room, so asked if there were any other options. Ohh yehhh ... their option was a full suite with master bedroom & bathroom, full living room, kitchenette and guest bath. And ... it was right next to Wally & Shauna's single bedroom. I think Bob and Marni won this round, right?

A huge benefit for us was that there was a pull-out bed in the living room, so Ted and I were able to stay overnight without having to drive to Santa Rosa and back each day (about an hour drive, traffic permitting.) And oh yeh ... did we have FUN! It was the basketball playoffs that weekend and I can't even tell you how exciting that was, even on TV. The Celtics vs The Lakers had us yelling and jumping around like headbangers in a mosh pit (do they have mosh pits anymore?). And when the Lakers won ... GET OUT!

Oh yeh ... and we ate really great food (of course) and walked around The City and shopped and clowned around (Bob's a natural comedian and funny as hell) and laughed and told stories and packed in two days of intense enjoying-each-other-to-the-max time. We just love these people.

THIRD WEEKEND:
The following weekend, friends Chris & Bart From Seattle came to visit. Bart was just rebounding from a victorious heavyweight bout with throat cancer (whew) and ready for adventure, and Chris is looking to change homebase because after spending years in the mostly-grey Seattle weather it's beginning to wear on her. They love Healdsburg, so they came down to check out the area as a possible re-settling place.

Healdsburg is a few miles up the road from Santa Rosa. It's toney, charming and unfortunately one of the pricier places to live up here. A shopkeeper once told us that people who were born and raised in Healdsburg can't really afford to live there anymore. I think Chris & Bart's hopes for that particular spot were wrung out a little, but we took them around to as many other places we could to show them other options. Oh yeh, and ... "we ate really great food (of course) and drove all over wine country and drank great wine (Bart shared a bottle of bio-dynamic Benzinger Pinot Noir - my current favorite - http://www.benziger.com/Our-Story) and laughed and told stories and packed in two days of intense enjoying-each-other-to-the-max time" (sound familiar?).

FOURTH WEEKEND:
My brother Larry & sister-in-law Puna, and my Mom and Dad moved up to Coos Bay, Oregon over twenty years ago. Larry and Puna raised their family (3 daughters, 1 son) there and in June their youngest, Talo, graduated from high school. Since my sister Jo and I missed the other three's graduations, we wanted to be at this one so she, and Samantha, Rudy and Nayla (our niece, nephew, and grand niece) and Ted and I packed up and drove north. (Ray stayed back to be with his brother who was settling out some personal issues.)

Larry & Puna's kids are just phenomenal people. Half Caucasian, half Samoan, they're all gorgeous ... inside and out. In birth order, Tifa's a Spitfire & a Beauty, Bonni's a Brain & a Beauty, Leslie's an Artist & a Beauty and Talo's an Athlete & handsome as all get-out. They were all athletes really, but Talo thinks he may make Sports Medicine his career. Anyway, these kids ROCK!

So the graduation was the BEST ever. There were about 200 kids in the graduating class and they all sat in chairs, in rows on the gymnasium floor. There was an amazing feeling of history and comradery in that gym. At one point people who had previously graduated from Marshall High were asked to stand up and nearly half the audience did. There's a lineage at that school that is often missing in the transient populations of larger cities, and that lineage translated to a strong sense of community pride that was palpable.

Talo got his share of accolades (one of 6 valedictorians and other honors) and it was heartwarming to see how well liked he was by his friends and teachers. At the end of the ceremony, the choir came down from the bleachers, held hands in a circle around the entire class, and sang them an Irish prayer to send them out into the world. Yeh ... we were all pullin' out the Kleenex-es on that one!

Aside from the graduation, it was a tonic to see my Dad. Mom died last November and since she was a huge focus for his life, we'd all been worried about how well he'd do without her. He does miss her, but I think the stress he felt with her over the years has lifted, and he's able to just relax and "Be". Gratefully, my brother lives with Dad and takes good care of him, and Dad's got a new dog, Billy Boy. Mom's ashes are in a box on the mantel, and Dad and Billy Boy sit on the couch across from it and talk to her throughout the day. So Dad's good, and he told me he plans to be around for a while longer ... at least for the next day or two ... so his sense of humor has returned too. Love you Dad ...

Rose Parade–Santa Rosa style

Last Saturday was the annual Rose Parade in Santa Rosa, a tradition which started in 1894. It almost didn't happen this year because of city budget short falls. A 10 year old girl named Zoe heard about this and took it upon herself to open a lemonade stand and give the money to the parade organization in hopes of continuing it this year. Word got out, the community responded, and a good time was had by all.

This is one of the joys of living in a smaller community, no pretenses, everyone could join in having FUN and be in the parade. It was very touching to see all the people celebrating life this way. Peggy and I are working on ideas for next year!

– Ted

p.s. You can click on the slide show above and launch a larger version in Picasa

Mostly Python

"On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place." — Monty Python

One Friday night, lookin' for somethin' to do, we found The Toad In The Hole Pub on Fifth Street near Railroad Square. We sat at the bar, ordered a pint of IPA and a pear cider and were worm-holed back to a pub in England we'd been to a trillion years ago. Although no fights broke out here like back in Jolly Ol' England, Toad In The Hole was the real deal — families having supper, loud-talking Brits who'd had a pint too many, dart board games, really good pub food (pasties, shepherd's pie, fish n' chips, etc.) and a bar tender (Paul I think his name is) who's only slightly Americanized English accent completed the British hologram to a tee (tea?).

"Paul" got to chatting with us and told us about an event the Pub does every year in May and of course, we just had to see it for ourselves. "Mostly Python" is a celebration honoring the Python era, or is perhaps just another excuse (if anyone needed one) to guzzle more "barley pops" than humanly possible. Yes the beer flowed while Python-costumed Pythonophiles recreated skits from vintage Phyton episodes, proving once and for all that if not for "every little sacred sperm" ("Every little sperm is sacred, Every little sperm is great! If a little sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate." —Monty Python), none of us would be here to enjoy this!






Above: "Paul" the bartender.
Below: Python-mania at its silliest ...



Ted captured the Python "hotties" on this hot day in May ... oh those summer dresses!




Above T-shirt wisdom:
Left: "The mouth of a perfectly contented man is filled with beer." — Egyptian proverb.
Right: "What have the Romans ever done for us?" — Monty Python's Life of Brian

'Nuff said.

Tomato Time

It's the beginning of May and gardeners of all sizes are coming out of hibernation. Nurseries are full of 'em ... backyard farmers wondering what kind of tomatoes they should grow this year. Last year's crop was disappointing for even experienced tenders, but this year holds high hopes for full-flavored red fruit. (Botanically, a tomato is the ovary, together with its seeds, of a flowering plant. Therefore it is a fruit or, more precisely, a berry. More than you wanted to know?)



Harmony Nursery in Sebastopol offers a long row of starter tomato varieties. How can we single out the best ones for our small potted garden, when one-of-each would be the natural (indulgent) choice?!


Hmmmmmmmm. Spending all that time with all those tomatoes ... a new variety is born ... the Pegmato!

Mendo Stupendo!

So there was a song in the late sixties by the Sir Douglas Quintet (sounds like a '60s British band, but they were actually from San Antonio, Texas) called "Mendocino". That may be the first time I remember hearing about that town. Later a wine commercial on TV touted the NapaSonomaMendocino (pronounced like one word) area as the best wine growing region in California. There was that name again ... curiosity ignited. Some time after Ted and I were married, we had a dreamlike desire to travel to Mendocino. We planned a trip, but life took us elsewhere and we never made it.

This past March, on the momentous occasion of our fortieth anniversary (no, we can't possibly be that old ... it was an arranged marriage and we were married at birth ... right?), we decided to finally realize the Mendocino dream. Despite wind and rain and deep grey sky, we hopped in the car and took off to explore new territory.


All that lovely dreaminess we held for Mendocino was in full tilt. Driving on a two-lane highway through redwood forests and impish small towns with names like Boonville (they had their own language in the "old" days), Philo (named for the founder's favorite female cousin ... ahem!) and tons of Anderson Valley boutique wineries, the road ends at the coast where the Navarro River spills into the sea. Breathtaking — when Buddha was looking for Nirvana, he could have come here!


On a recommendation by Samantha and Rudy (niece and nephew) we stayed at the Glendeven Inn in their Garret room. The mighty "Q" began to form for us here ... Quintessentially Quaint, but elegantly so. Our room as at the top of the renovated Farmhouse with a view overlooking pasture lands (complete with llamas) out to the ocean. (http://www.glendeven.com/architecture.html)




Dare I say it? We fell in love with CHICKENS! No, not the garlicky ones roasted with thyme and glazed with orange honey, but the fully feathered kind that scratch and peck and make warbly clucking noises. OMG! Chickens are just gorgeous creatures! Their feathers are landscapes of color, almost fur-like and we delighted in feeding them the (owner-approved) grains provided in a bag in our room.




Strangely though, some of those guys bypassed the grains and went straight for my feet! Did they recognize a chicken-eater in their midsts?


One of the llamas taking a dirt bath. Was it Dolly? They all had names, and of course there had to be a Dolly Llama!

The Farmhouse:

The Grounds:

Peggy caught eating the entire jar of Rice Krispie Treats left for all the guests:

From these photos it looks like we never made it out of the Inn, but venture out we did. The town of Mendocino itself is Gingerbread By The Sea blended with a dose of Uptown, old and new Hippy charm, and "Qute" as all get-out. We did our share of dining (of course), and shopping and cruising up the coast.


Food glorious food. This yellow house, The MacCallum House, (http://www.maccallumhouse.com/) is home to a lovely hotel and restaurant that made a super delicious Manhattan cocktail. Ahhhhhhh ... what could be better than sipping a Manhattan on a warm enclosed patio on a blustery seaside evening?

Our favorite eatery was Café Beaujolais recommended by our Mendocino-savvy cousin Jeffrey. http://www.cafebeaujolais.com/ Quite the Qulinary delight! (Sorry ... gone "Q" Qrazy!) Of course, I waaay over-ordered (should have stopped with the foie gras), so couldn't eat but a forkful of my entrée (potato gnocci). Ted had outta-dis-world Sturgeon, and I am wondering why one or the other of us doesn't have The Gout from so much rich food, but then let's not plant that seed okay?

One of our most favorite wanderings was walking out to the old Point Cabrillo Light Station on a promontory overlooking crashing waves below. (http://www.pointcabrillo.org/) We'd hoped to see some migratory whales since this is the season, but they didn't appear that day. Still, the roughness of the coast and the rugged weather and thrilling sting of salt air was more than enough to fill our senses with the spirit of the place. A Mendocino dream come true ...





"I love you so, please don't go
Please stay here with me in Mendocino.
Mendocino, Mendocino ..." — Sir Douglas Quintet