santa barbara august 2012

    Friday afternoon we met Amy at her office in Oxnard.  We have been friends since junior high and it always feels like no time has passed when I see her.  My dad went on his way to spend the weekend swimming at his favorite pool on UCSB campus and meeting with writers.  Amy and I went our way. I was so ready to enjoy the ocean again.  

I haven't spent any time really by the beach in Ventura, so it was fun to walk at the harbor there. Amy took me to one of her favorite parks where there is a beautiful view of the ocean and then we ate at a delicious Thai restaurant called White Sands in downtown Ventura. I don't think I have had Pad Thai since Beijing.

I think I am a boring guest. When I visit Amy I always want to do the same things, visit my old favorite places in Santa Barbara. As we drove in to town Amy suggested the Farmer's Market, which I had never been to in Santa Barbara. 

We walked down State Street to Cabrillo Boulevard.  I wanted to pay respects to Sonny's Pizza, which I have mentioned before, was the best pizza in the world, but is no longer there because another restaurant, which was also sadly not in operation, took it's place.  But there is the little spot where it used to be.

Sonny's was right under the ivy. I worked there for two summers in high school. When work was slow  I would stand in the door way and watch the ocean.  That job was like a dream.

View form Stern's Wharf.The candy shop on Stern's Wharf where Sister Haws, our beloved early morning seminary teacher, would go to buy us candy on our birthdays. I bought the candied grapefruit slices that I used to request. They tasted just like my sixteenth birthday. That was just one of the many ways that Sister Haws made us feel loved.  Amy bought some chocolate, which was nice enough to share.

We decided not to eat on the Wharf and instead we walked back up State Street to the India House eight dollar lunch buffet.

The food is not the absolute best in the world but the atmosphere makes up for it.  I love any restaurant that makes me feel like I have taken a little vacation to another time or place. 

I want to buy one of those elephant pieces next time.

After lunch I couldn't resist investigating The Little Rainbow Foot Spa that I noticed as we passed State and Haley.  I am always drawn to any reflexology spa where the practitioners only speak Chinese. I treated Amy and myself to a forty-five minute session of traditional Chinese foot massage. It was incredibly relaxing and  almost as wonderful as my most favorite place, Le Spa at the clubhouse in River Gardens in Beijing. Brought back happy memories...made new ones, my favorite combination.

Next we decided to drive up around the mission and up to Alameda Padre Sierra the narrow and scenic road that winds along "the Riviera" on the East side of Santa Barbara. Amy showed me a park that I had never been to before. 

Franceschi park is about 15 acres of plant and animal life, appropriately named after an Italian horticulturalist Francesco Franceschi.  There are gorgeous views, intriguing old statues and this fascinating old home that was given to the city of Santa Barbara in 1931.

 In the evening we drove to Hendry's Beach...though never the same without my dog Cody,  it is always beautiful in any season and at anytime of day.

 The place I imagine when I am trying to think of nothing at all.

We drove passed our Junior High on our way back to Ventura.

 All the park exploring and beach walking,  were not just for meditation. We also needed to work up an appetite for dinner at another favorite place,  Padaro Beach Grill in Carpenteria. That salad was so amazing it needed a close up.

 Sunday morning I met up with Granddad again. We said good bye to Amy and the beautiful California ocean air, and palm trees, and jasmine, and we drove home to Utah. 

 Sunday evening about nine o'clock we pulled back in to Granddad's driveway, and I walked around the corner to where Rob was staying with the kids.  It was a wonderful weekend, and I think the best part was running through the sprinklers to my home, past the kids' favorite apple tree,  passing familiar toys and shoes in the yard, anticipating William's "Mamma!", wondering how Sophie had changed in 72 hours, and returning to everyone's hugs and hellos. 

comfortable exile

 The kids anticipate their Dad's visit as the highlight of the summer. Because he works in Pakistan, his visits are particularly cherished.  He arrives with scarved dolls, jeweled purses, and woolen hats for the boys, that still smell of coal, the smell I remember from the villages in China. The kids run out to him as his car pulls in next to our van, and it seems like he is not in the door before the stories begin, and the pictures come out, and everyone is gathered around listening to adventures abroad.

I anticipate the visit as well. He comes to stay with the ten.  I clean and organize and try to imagine temporarily relinquishing my home, and my obsessions... returning cushions to sofas, shoes to closets, sweeping the front porch, keeping the washer churning and the dryer spinning, and tracking down those guilty of leaving the peanut butter open for the flies. I have a fantasy, because this is the boring type of thing that I dream of, that everything will be in order, I will leave with nothing undone, and somehow, because of my excellent and diligent preparation, I will be worthy, like Cinderella, of starting some new chapter, some new two week adventure of my own. I view the time as if something really different will happen, but usually find myself immediately longing to return to my own home, hugs from my children, needs, arguments, laughter, laundry, shoes, diapers, routine. Meanwhile I dread the next transition...their saying good bye to Dad again, until the future visit, but anticipate that almost exuberant moment,when like a child who's just realized she can peddle on her own and takes off riding, we realize we will be okay too.

That said, here I am at Grandad and Judith's just  down the street, what I call comfortable exile, close enough to catch an occasional glimpse of little William, swaggering around the yard like the big man on campus with the neighborhood girls.  Monday, Week one, I sat down in Granddad's and Judith's kitchen and started to plan some kind of travel. Grandad suggested we drive to California together, and so it was decided.

Thursday morning we left.  I love my Dad's respect for tradition.

  Here was our breakfast at one of his favorite stops along the way, The Garden of Eatin' in Fillmore, Utah. Not sure I would recommend it based on the price, or the cuisine, but the definitely would it for the sayin'- you-did.

I was grateful for a day of driving with Dad. Talking, eating, indoctrinating, political of course--liberal Mormon rhetoric. I told him I thought he should go on CNN. In the evening we arrived at the home of my
 step-sister Jennifer, near Irvine.  It was great to her and her family. We went out to dinner together at The Soup Plantation. And in the morning, before we said goodbye, another breakfast adventure, The Snooty Fox.

Our plan was to drive through Long Beach on our way north where I would meet my good friend Amy in Ventura.  My dad grew up in Long Beach and we visited his mother there, in his boyhood home, many times when I was a child. I had a desire, lately, to return there to pay respects to memories, retrace, solidify, acknowledge.

 We parked in front of Nana's home and talked about how much it had changed. I jumped up and down to get a look over the fence at the most amazing lemon tree of my memories. It had grown so tall. We walked to Heartwell Park, that was almost as I remembered it. The rocket ship had been replaced with new fashioned play equipment, as I had expected.

  
St. Luke's where Granddad sang in the boys' choir.

 Next downtown Long Beach; homage to Acres of  Books and a few places special to Granddad. I think we made Nana happy. Then we were headed North.

spring birthdays 2012

We came so close to having a birthday for every month.  January and February are all we lack, if we include Grandma Martha's birthday in July.

  We celebrated Sam's fifteenth birthday the last week in April, with dinner at Pizza Pie Cafe, one of our favorites.

 

Caitlin's sixth birthday followed quickly, the first week in May.

I took Krispy Kremes to class.

Caitlin and friends at recess.

In the evening we had a picnic in our park, Caitlin's favorite--Wendy's. And the following Saturday Caitlin invited her friends to Nickel City.


I am a big fan of Nickel City in Orem. They are family operated,  they know their regular customers, and always try to give us a deal. I would go just for the pizza, which has an amazing crust. Sam agrees.

In June, Ben turned fourteen.  I was going to forgo decorating the breakfast table with my artwork, to use the word modest would be too generous, and simple balloons, and just as I set out the cereal, and was turning out the lights the night before, my daughters started to insist that we do the decorating, and I had one of  those moments when you feel appreciated, and as if your small efforts have actually been cherished all along.

Ben invited a few friends to Nickel City and was gracious enough to let the rest of us tag along.

Sophie was thinking about the autumn birthdays.

summerfest

Last weekend we enjoyed the much anticipated Orem Summerfest.  Much anticipated primarily because last year we did it, and did it wrong.  I was in school so we crammed in a late night visit to the carnival and fireworks, bought tickets that we couldn't use because the lines were too long, and the fireworks signaled the end of the fest before anyone sat on any ride.  I also remember writing about last year's experience, because I came to the surprising awareness that half my children hate crowds and fireworks.

So this year, as soon as the trailers and folded up rides started to arrive and unfold into twisting strawberries and rolling dragons, we started to plan the perfect small town carnival experience.  Friday afternoon, as soon as music classes ended Grandma Martha and the eleven of us were on our way, with last year's tickets in hand.  We were able to use them! The first auspicious sign that this year would be a success.  Everyone big split off into pairs and Grandma and I took the younger generation over to the strawberries.

This was Sophie's first carnival ride.

We spent three hours or so there. I was surprised that we left with extra tickets. After a while, the big kids had their fill, and we spent an hour relaxing by the playground in the shade, while the children raided the booths for candy and health and safety promotion. Our favorite booth was of course the Humane Society's where we met a beautiful, and perfectly tempered Golden Lab named Bill. We were sure he was meant to be a permanent part of our lives...but we were strong and went home without him, still hoping we could convince Granddad that he needed Bill in his life too. Kyle returned later that evening with David and learned that he was adopted. Bill was not in our fate.

Saturday evening Olivia and I were driving to Target when we saw the parade route starting to close off and crowds starting to gather.  We drove home quickly to find the willing.  I had thought the parade was in the morning, and since we have been night owls lately, didn't have the ambition to wake up the household. Saturday evening there was a stiff, surprisingly cold, wind but a handful of us walked up to the parade and were happy to meet our friends from the ward. It was big on local advertisement and, most importantly,  candy.








After the parade we returned home to get ready to return for fireworks. We added Sam, Grant, and Grandma...no fireworks haters this time, and returned to the park.  It was a perfect night! The wind had died down, but had obviously discouraged enough people that the crowd was not overwhelming. We browsed the vendors' booths and savored the combined sensations of the smell of the night air and fair foods.  We bought an order of Tornado Fries. Sam and the girls seasoned them using a bit of each of what Sam reported were a trillion different possible seasonings.


They were worthy of a photo shoot.





  Sam was on a mission to find funnel cakes.  I was grateful for his persistence.  Fried dough...fried oil really, covered in powdered sugar..the perfect fair food, on a beautiful summer night while watching fireworks.
 Present moment...Perfect moment, but not even trying to convince myself.  I have such a passion for local fairs.  I just kept remembering Maine.