Monday Morning Departure

It is 5:15 AM on a clear, cold morning and we are about to get on the road for Tucson. Next posting will probably not be until Cuyutlan next weekend. Goodbys have been said, baby kissed, so it's time to go. Kaley, Rob and Ruby have left for the airport and their home in Connecticut. See you at the beach!

The Beautious K.C.

This is the wonderful dog that has been a part of the Strane (Vic and Tom) family for 15+ years. She has such a beautiful face and a glorious, thick coat of fur, and a sweet, patient temperament. But the body has grown old and infirm, and her days are down to a precious few. In fact, perhaps only one or two. But she will be long remembered with great affection.

"Rent"

Go see it. Take Kleenex. If you liked "Moulin Rouge" this one will astound.

Post-feast

Most of today was spent digesting yesterday. We also spent some time at the Cathedral in San Diego arranging for the service to commit my mother's ashes to the columbarium on Sunday and doing a bit of shopping. Then Vic and I went to see "Goodnight, and Good Luck," the film about Edward R. Murrow, the making of the CBS news department, the downfall of Joseph McCarthy and the personalities that shaped the TV of the 50's and 60's. A brilliant piece of work. Especially for those of us who remember the times. Extraordinary performance by David Straithorn who plays Murrow.

Ruby and her family went to the San Diego Zoo today. She saw the monkey cage, a few birds and a flamingo and fell asleep. Maybe next year . . .

Tomorrow we go see "Rent." I must get my film fix before a 5-month drought.

Also bought a digital camera to keep a pictoral record of this year's beach stay. I hope to figure out how to get pictures up here without Andrew pushing all the buttons. I did figure out how to get the date and time into the camera. That's the first step.

Happy Thanksgiving

Here's what was happening at our house, or at Vic's house. We had 22 people for a delicious dinner of tomato soup, turkey, mashed potatoes, braised brussel sprouts, green beans, sweet potato and apple casserole, cranberry sauce, pecan, apple, minced meat and pumpkin pies, coffee, mints, and sparkling wine. It was all just too wonderful for words. We all hope your Thanksgiving was as loving and delicious as was ours.

The Patriarch. This is Captain John Strane, USN Ret., the beloved and charming father of Tom and Jeff, Susan and Steven Strane.




The Table. This is one of the three tables. This one was set with my mother's china and silver. The other tables were set with Strane family treasures.



The bartender:



The Ruby:


The mother and father of The Ruby:


The fabulous venue:

The Second Oasis

It is a bright and balmy Tuesday in San Diego. The route here was once the most popular way to travel through Southern California. As a child I had been on Highway 1 every summer, to and from our vacation house in Newport Beach. Corona del Mar through Laguna Beach, San Clemente, Dana Point, Leucadia, Encinitas, Carlsbad, Cardiff by the Sea, Solana Beach, Del Mar, La Jolla. Then back onto the I-5 speedway for a quick trip to Vicky's house in San Diego. And of course, more Ruby time.

On the refrigerator door are four charts that serve as the "game plan" for the next three days. Everyone has been assigned duties and a time slot for the completion of said duties. My duty for today is to prepare a sweet potatoe casserole using Vic's recipe. Even the job of polishing the silverware has been assigned and that chore is to be completed this afternoon. These people are WAY too organized! However, if there are going to be 23 guests at your house I guess you better have some idea about how you're going to get all these things done.

Yesterday after doing some banking business we went over to see the old beach house that was sold 4 years ago. The new owners have done a bit of remodeling, planted a lovely new garden, painted the house, and generally upgraded. We parked the car and took the same walk along the beach "boardwalk" that I had walked since I was about 6 or 7 years old. Remember that Newport Beach was, for the most part, a summer resort, so most houses were shut up during the winter or used only on weekends or holidays. Not anymore. Some of the houses along the oceanfront walk are lived in year-round or rented year round and there are very few of the little single story wood frame style homes left. They have been razed and in their stead are two- and three-story jobs built out to the full extent of the lot lines. There is probably three feet between the houses so none gets any side light. The front opens directly onto the sidewalk; almost no front gardens, definitely no side or back gardens. Of course, the view is from here to Catalina on a clear day, the blue ocean and sandy beach across the street. I guess that makes up for a lot. In the old days the boardwalk was exactly that; a board walk. It is now a wide cement walkway that has bike riders, joggers, skateboarders, roller skaters, and the occasional intrepid walker who tries to stay out of everyone's path! We walked down to the Newport Pier, then out to the end to see if the optimistic fishermen had caught anything. In all the years I have been walking that pier I don't remember seeing any catch; the pleasure seems to come from the trying. At the end of the pier is a little cafe where my father would take me early in the morning after we had walked from our house to the little market to get an LA Times. Mother would say, as we left, "Now Don, don't buy her any coffee. You know how she gets!" And so we would sit at one of the little tables, Daddy with his coffee, me with my cup of 1/3 coffee, 2/3 milk, reading the paper and watching the fishermen pull their boats up on the beach and unload the morning catch to be sold at an open fish market at the foot of the pier. The fish market is still there, still a bustling place early in the morning.

Forty-two years ago today John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Interesting what you remember.

It's Ruby!

Here she is! Isn't she wonderful?

First Oasis

This safari has safely reached its first oasis, that of Long Beach. We had a long but uneventful drive down I-99 through the middle of California, with the usual pauses at various Rest Stops along the way. The early morning was beautifully clear, no fog, gorgeous sun rise somewhere neart Stockton. There was not much early morning traffic, especially for a Friday. By the time we reached Fresno we had entered the mid-valley smog belt, as bad as Los angeles. But at the top of the Grapevine, clear, high blue skies before sliding down the other side into the greenish-yellowish LA basin. We drove down 405 past the gleaming Getty Museum perched up on the hillside. I have yet to visit there; it's on my list for next year.

Today my grand niece Ruby, age 8 months, and her parents -- visiting from Connecticut for two weeks -- and grandparents drove up from San Diego for a family weekend, including a pre-Thanksgiving celebration at daughter Alex's house. This is where we're sitting:



Everyone will be here except Caitlin and Mike; they're frolicking in the snow in Montana instead of lounging around in this unseasonably balmy Southern California sunshine. This is a grand gathering, with Andrew home from school, Emily providing dazzling beauty to the assembled group, Alex and Peter laying on a delicious bounty,



and baby Ruby giving the future a hopeful head start. It is wonderful to have a baby in the family, especially one as cute lively as this one! I am going to get someone to take a picture of Ruby and me and I will then attempt to put it up on this blog.

The next installment of this saga will be from our second oasis, that of my sister's house in San Diego. We will hang out for about a week, including Thanksgiving, before heading east through Tucson to El Paso and then south into Mexico. So stay tuned.

Go!

I woke this morning at about 3:30 to the sound of the freight train rolling through Davis, way off in the distance. It reminded me that the next time I hear a train at that hour -- or perhaps a bit later -- will be in Cuyutlan. The early morning flyer chugs through the village at about 5 AM. Since there are no safety crossings, no lights, no bells, no barrier bar that comes down across the roads, the train starts its lonesome whistle about three miles down the track and keeps it up until it is through town. I love hearing it. It is so still, except for the shuss of the surf out the open slider, and then from way off, almost to Armeria, comes the sound of the approaching train. However, after about a week I sleep right through it.

It is a clear, cold morning, perfect for traveling. I have been checking the weather faithfully to see if we are going to have fog in the valley. Looks good. The coffee is perking, the lunch is made, the bags are packed, surfaces have been cleared of the usual detritus of daily life. Gee, everything looks great. We should do this more often!

Next stop? Long Beach.

Set . . .

This is our last day here in the beautiful autumn of Davis. It's hard to believe that it is the end of November; students are around in shorts and tank tops, people are actually using air conditioning or driving around with car windows wide open. I even looked longingly at the pool thinking that if we had kept the cover on we could probably be swimming. The outdoor tables at The Bistro in downtown Davis were filled with lunchers enjoying the sunshine. Still the trees are all turning red and gold, leaves are dropping by the basket-full, and there is a rumor that Thanksgiving will be here next week, despite the balmy weather.

I spent the morning packing, cleaning, moving boxes from inside to the garage to be put into the car. It's pretty much loaded up and ready to go. Fortunately several boxes will be left in both Long Beach and San Diego as Santa offerings and we will then have a bit of breathing room. This afternoon was the pre-Mexico hair cut (really short, but not quite as short as the Italian cut of a year ago. See The Haircut, December 3, 2004.) Then on to the pedicure palace for a bit more pampering before hitting the beach. I have been a bit wary of having all this done in Mexico, but at least this year I am going to go to the local hair cutting emporium, point to my hair and tell them I'll be back in 6 weeks and I want the same. I'll let you know how it works.

We expect a cold, clear morning tomorrow for our early drive out of here. The plan is to be on the road by 6 AM. Right now I have to dismantle my computer and pack it up for the long drive. Next news will be from San Diego.

Ready . . .

The house is clean (almost), the CDs have been sorted for travel, the books packed, the car is in the shop getting all spiffed up for the long ride, the garage is full of boxes to be stowed in the car, lists have been made and gradually crossed off, phone calls made to friends and family saying "Adios" so I guess we're almost ready to drive off. It is a huge chore getting all of this done here; then in five months we have to do it all over again in Cuyutlan. But in truth, it's worth it. We leave behind TV, incessant bad news, the hype and glitz and noise of everyday living. We take up the sound of the sea, occasional trains, siestas in the hammock on the third floor terrazo under the palapa. But after five months, for some reason, the soul gets hungry for its own language, its own place. But meanwhile, it's wonderful.

Tonight we have dinner with friends. Tomorrow is the haircut, last of the bank business,then early to bed. We hope to get out of here by about 5:30 Friday morning, headed for Southern California and family. Let's see if we make it.

By the way, if you have not already done so, I highly recommend a great read, The Kite Runner by Kahlid Housseini. I went to hear him speak at the beautiful Mondavi Center in Davis on Monday evening. What a remarkable story, not only the novel but his own life. Put it on your list.