Breaking Up Is Hard To Do...

This article about breaking up with an old car instantly resonated with Debbie and I.  We recently traded in our old '96 LandCruiser – which we named “Siggy” (after the “8SIGMAS” on its plate).  So many wonderful memories in that car; so many hours of companionship provided...

Beautiful Glass...

My sister's photos from the Dale Chihully Glass Exhibit at the Richmond (Virginia) Museum of Fine Arts:

Insanity in My Family...

Via my lovely niece Amber G., who attended our recent family reunion – and then saw this graphic, which resonated with her for some reason:

Dogs are Family...

Of course they are!  Via my lovely bride:

A Cause for Celebration...

My father is the patriarch of our extended family, and of course he's even more ancient than I am.  Friends and family alike fondly refer to his age as “older than dirt” to edge around any awkward need for a more specific reference.  For him, waking up in the morning is reason enough for celebration – but he's got another reason just now: he's come through a minor surgery (hernia repair) in fine shape.  Through long experience, our family has discovered there's only one way to reliably tell what condition my dad is in: whether he's eating.  And he's eating his favorite food – chocolate milkshakes :-)

So we're celebrating!

Mom's Flowers...

It's got something to do with the combination of weather, “Scott's super soil” (Scott is my brother), and good fortune – all working together to make my mom's yard (near Charlottesville, Virginia) full of beautiful blooms.  Holly (my sister) is keeping a photo journal.  And flowers make moms happy, as everyone knows...

Nancy Pelosi...

There are many things Nancy Pelosi doesn't have control over these days.  Amongst them, apparently, is her daughter.  Via my mom:

I Come from a Family With Unusual Abilities...

But we're all different.  This is my brother Scott:

If You Know Me...

If you know me at all, you will be completely unsurprised when I tell you that I am related to the man who created the “snow-alien” at right (as always, click to enlarge – if you dare!).  My brother Scott (who has a landscaping business in Virginia Beach, Virgina, called Artist in the Garden) is the perpetrator.  The snow-alien was quite a hit with the neighbors, we understand.  Proudly showing it off is my sister Holly (who has a web-based business called Learn English with a WorldWide Perspective), who lives near my parents in Charlottesville, Virginia.  We were all there visiting my parents a few days ago when a snowstorm dumped a bunch of that wet white stuff we see so rarely out here in California...and Scott just couldn't resist the opportunity...

Son of Hitler?

There's some interesting evidence that Adolf Hitler had a son:

Jean-Marie Loret, who died in 1985 aged 67, never met his father, but went on to fight Nazi forces during the Second World War.

His extraordinary story has now been backed up by a range of compelling evidence, both in France and in Germany, which is published in the latest edition of Paris's Le Point magazine.

Hitler is said to have had an affair with Mr Loret's mother, Charlotte Lobjoie, 16, as he took a break from the trenches in June 1917.

What a mind-blowing thing it would be, to discover that Hitler was your dad...

The Blues in Jamul...

Kate, my nonagenarian mother-in-law, has been visiting with us for the last three weeks.  Yesterday we put her on the plane for her trip home.  Despite being very frail and unable to walk more than a hundred feet or so in a push, and living in fear of just about everything (as a butterfly landing on her would probably cause a bruise), she was willing to leave the safety and familiarity of her home in Indiana to come spend some time with us (and our four dogs and eight cats). 

The dogs were good; they didn't jump on her and knock her down.  Even the cats seemed very careful around her.  And she had a good time with us, especially some shared sight-seeing drives and meals out (something she doesn't get to do much of back home). 

As Debbie says, it's a mixture of both sadness and relief to see her go.  Sadness, because we know we won't see her again soon (and at her age, we have to wonder if ever), and because we enjoyed her company.  Relief, because it is inevitably a lot of work to weave care and attention to her into our lives, and her stay disrupts the usual peace and calmness in our country home.  So yesterday after we put her on the plane Debbie and I had a bit o' the blues...

I'm feeling better this morning, though!

My Weird Family, Continued...

My sister finds more weird and awesome mushrooms in her yard...

A Lovely Story About My Mother...

My mom passed this along to me, and I can only assume she wanted me to share it with y'all...

One day long, long ago, there lived a beautiful woman who did not whine, nag, bitch or drink (that would be me).

But that was a long time ago and it was just that one day.

THE END.

A Fine Day...

Debbie and I had a wonderful day yesterday.  First we worked ourselves into a stupor, cutting and burning brush in our front yard.  I estimate that we cut, carried, and burned between a ton and a ton-and-a-half of pine limbs.  The fire was awesomely hot, to the point where it was painful to get within 6 feet or so of it.  We started around 7 am, and by the time we wrapped it up at around 3 pm we had almost completely cleared the yard; just a few logs remain.  All this to trim up just the first third or so of our pine trees!

After we got done working, we showered and headed for Descanso Junction Restaurant.  There we met up with my cousin Mike D. and his significant other Diane.  They're from Colorado, and they're taking a grand driving tour of the west.  We caught them as they were headed to San Diego for a couple days of sight-seeing.  Though we've corresponded quite a bit in recent years, I haven't seen Mike since I was a kid, close to 50 years ago.  He's 11 years older than I am, so his memories of that event are better than mine.  We had a grand old time, swapping stories and feasting. 

Mike and I both chose the same dish: meatloaf and mashed potatoes with green beans, preceded by a seafood chowder.  Debbie got one of her all-time favorites, the fried chicken.  Diane, the light eater amongst us, got a club sandwich – the look of dismay on her face when she saw the (monster) size of it was priceless.  Mike, on the other hand, nearly jumped for joy when he saw the gigantic slab of meatloaf that didn't quite fit on his plate!  He finished his entire plate off, then eyeballed Diane's remaining half-sandwich.  I suspect that sandwich didn't make it to the refrigerator last night...

We took our separate paths upon leaving the restaurant, but not before we made plans for Mike and Diane to join us for a day of four-wheeling when we're out in Ouray next month.  We're going to take them to Yankee Boy Basin for some wildflowers...

Chicken Pasta Soup...

It's a chilly morning out here in the sticks; mid-60s in the house and I'm sitting at the computer working.  Yesterday I stopped by the Bravo Cafe near Jamul and picked up a quart of Manolli's lemony chicken pasta soup.  Just now I reheated it and slurped it down.  It's a lovely soup, with a light, slightly creamy broth that's quite lemony.  Plenty of chicken and tiny rice-like pasta, and some vegetables.  Just one of the many reasons why we love the food at Bravo!

But aside from the great (and plentiful!) food, the people there are what really makes the place.  Yesterday Milton and Esmeralda (two of Manolli and Rosio's kids) made up my order of soup and iced mocha (for Debbie), while Manolli churned out sandwiches and other goodies.  This family is a fixture in the Jamul area – hard-working immigrant Americans full of good cheer and good will.  Jamul would be a different – and lesser – place without them.

It just occurred to me to look them up on Yelp, and I'm delighted to see that every review up there is a solid five stars!

Note From My Mom...

I received this note from my mom a few days ago.  Before you read it, you should know that I am her oldest child (of four).

If you are supposed to learn from your mistakes, why do some people have more than one child?

Now ... how exactly should I interpret that?

Happy Easter!

My mom sends these Easter greetings:

Twelve Boxes of Chocolate Ice Cream...

Via my mom:

I was reading and Dad walked over and stood in front of me with a very long face and whimpered “I only have 2 boxes of ice cream left”

SIGH!

Thankfully they are on sale this week and I shall purchase another 12 boxes...and so my life goes on and on and on...

Anyone who knows my Dad knows about his obsession with planning his next meals. We all speculate this is derived from his Great Depression-era childhood. Whatever the cause, he spends a significant part of his life thinking about where the next meal is going to come from. For example, anytime he and I went on a trip together, the moment we got underway in the car you could be sure that the next thing he'd say would something like “So...where are we going to eat lunch?”

So my mom's story seems completely in character, especially if you know about his chocolate ice cream fetish. I can easily imagine how is brain reacted upon seeing a mere 2 boxes of chocolate ice cream remaining: “Oh, noz! What am I going to eat for lunch?!?!”

Unexpected Joys...

Got this email from my mom today:

Dad and I had an errand today at Lowe's and on the way home on the back road near our house we saw something completely unexpected.  Just as we were getting ready to turn the car I spotted in front of us a man about 10 feet tall.  I knew immediately it was a teen on stilts and along side of him was walking a young lady.  I started to laugh and instead of turning onto our road, I continued on and came along side - laughing and telling him how great it was to see him and how much we were enjoying the view.  He told us he walks around at the football games (in this location I am assuming he meant the college games) and that today their church was having a trick or treat time for the children and he was going to walk there.  We kept smiling and had a nice chat with them until cars started to come then we let them get on their way.  Very neat this experience.   Just wanted to share a grin.

How cool is that?

An Odd Experience...

I've posted several times before about the Descanso Junction Restaurant. It's one of our favorite places to eat, with terrific food at prices that make it an equally terrific value (kinda nice during this downturn). The decor, the people who work there, and everything else about it contributes to a homey, comfortable atmosphere.

Recently they completely redid their menu, with lots of new dishes we haven't had time to try yet. The first few things we've tried have been really good, and sometimes even surprising. For example, who would have expected top-notch crème brûlée way out in the sticks? Even better, they've been doing very well (despite the recession), and they've gone back to a 7-day-a-week schedule. Woo hoo!

Well, Friday night Debbie and I were up there for dinner. We sat at a booth, and the table (like all the others) was covered with a glass top that has lots of photos, clippings, cards, etc. underneath it. As is my habit, I started reading the pieces – some of them were new to me (the staff there changes them frequently). One review was upside-down from where I sat, so I struggled to read it, very slowly. The review seemed vaguely familiar – and that's when I noticed that it was from this very blog, almost three years ago. What a hoot! And what an odd feeling to see that clipping of my article there.

After thinking about it a bit, I decided not to let the crew know who I was. I really don't want any special treatment, so if I'm still unknown to them, I'd rather keep it that way...