Picture My Life #2

Originally published February 23, 2010:

Last Saturday we took Pete to Point Lobos where the surf was crashing on the rocks and running off in foamy riverlets. Every once in a while there was a deep boom as a huge breaker pounded the boulders. I took a dozen pictures and they were all impressive. But this one really knocked me out ... and I can't really say why. Of course, it isn't important to analyze and put such things into words. It will just be a mystery. Like art, like life, like the powerful and frightening ocean.
Posted by Philip Reed at 9:17 PM

Posts from Phil's Blog Picture My Life #1

Phil has been been posting photos and text on his blog Picture My Life. Here's the first one originally published on February 21, 2010:

Pete flew into San Francisco Wednesday night and stayed for four nights. We're house sitting for Steve while he is in India so Pete saw Steve for a night and a breakfast. After we dropped Steve at the airport we took Pete to see the Golden Gate Bridge (lost in the fog) Coit Tower (cold and windy) and Russian Hill (filled with intricate walkways winding to an amazing summit). On Friday, the clouds parted and we played golf on Steve's local course. Saturday Pete and I ran on the beach and then drove to Point Lobos to watch waves crashing on the rocks. Pete generously treated Vivian and me to a wonderful dinner in Carmel. It was great to see my brother and now the house seems too quiet.

See Worthy

Thursday, March 4. The skies are brilliantly blue and everything below sparkles in the sun, still glistening from yesterday's rain. We don't have much planned today, which means there's plenty of time to catch up on blogs and take stock of what we haven't done and what we just have to do before we leave on March 9 (five days). I'd like a hike in the woods and a visit to Tor House, Phil would like to visit San Francisco again and to visit Pebble Beach Club House. Four locations in five days definitely sounds doable, even on top of the requisite house cleaning and grocery restocking chores.

After breakfast, I took Dixie for a little neighborhood walk. Every day, she seems a little more relaxed walking with us. I was unpleasantly surprised at how chilly it was even with the brilliant sunshine. I've become a real coddled Southern Californian who thinks sunny automatically means warm. Back at the house, I got a call that I might get my proofreading job at CSULB thesis department in April. It would be nice to get some money coming in even though I will have to take a pay cut. Phil and I talked about things to do to get out of the house. Phil suggested a quick shopping trip to Trader Joe's (weren't we just there yesterday?) so I surfed the net for nearby restaurants and came up with two possibilities: Fresh Choice and Gayle's Bakery.

We chose Fresh Choice because it was close to Trader's, but when we got there we found out it was a cafeteria style restaurant and since we had Dixie with us, it seemed too complicated. We walked over to Trader's and I shopped for stuff while Phil stood outside and got compliments from ladies on his cute little dog. I got a sandwich and a salad and we drove to Seacliff Drive and parked at Seacliff Mini Park, which is a minimally landscaped area with a few benches on the palisade overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Visibility was incredible and the sparkling water stretched for miles in every direction but east. We ate our takeout lunch in the sun-warmed front seat with a million dollar view. Dixie seemed to enjoy just being near us. She sat still and pricked up her ears every time either one of us talked.

Back home, we unpacked the groceries and made some coffee. Phil did some work and then headed out for nine holes at Seascape. He got me and Dixie started on another walk down to Hidden Beach. She did very well, prancing ahead and sniffing, sniffing, sniffing. The beach was lovely in the sunshine even though the surf wasn't as wild as yesterday. I got back home before Phil and did some reading. He came home chilled through so we had a beer and chips sitting next to the stove after he built a fire.

We talked to Tony as we ate supper, leftover burritos and soup. We spent the evening close to the stove, reading, chatting and Sudoku-ing. It's starting to feel a lot like home.

Over the Hill in San Jose and Otherwise

Wednesday, March 3. I find it amusing as I approach retirement age that people in the Santa Cruz area refer to San Jose as "over the hill" without seeming to be aware of the phrase's other connotation of being old and past your prime. In pretirement, it seems to me that you can still be at the summit of some of your abilities and at the same time begin to develop perspective on areas in your life where you are losing speed. Going downhill implies a certain amount of momentum that can carry you through some tough patches like minor health issues or lack of training in technological advances. With a positive frame of mind, the downhill stretch can be exhilarating not scary.

In the midst of light to heavy rain, the trip up and down the hill on Highway 17 was exhilarating to say the least, but not scary with Phil at the wheel. We talked about many things, including the difficulties of working with younger people. We noted a certain superiority many Gen Xers project and wondered if they just feel those of us born before the great technological revolution just don't get it or if their aloofness is just a good bluff. We didn't come to any major conclusions, but it felt good to air a few frustrations in the privacy of our own car. We had a little trouble finding the right exit around the interchange between Highway 17 and Interstate 280. San Jose is a working city, full of busy streets, commercial plazas, and people in a hurry to get somewhere else, not exactly suited for a leisurely pretirement pace.

Phil let me off at the Winchester Mystery House, a tourist attraction I've been interested in for years. It is a bizarre conglomeration of 160 rooms, 47 stairways, 2,000 doors and 10,000 windows put together by Sarah Winchester, the fabulously wealthy widow of the heir to the Winchester rifle fortune. She began the project in her 50s (and mentally the worse for wear after the deaths of her one child and husband) and directed the non-stop construction project based on messages she received from the spirit world for almost 40 years. The $28 entrance fee for the mansion tour is pretty steep, but the tour lasted over an hour on a mile long trek led by an informative and cheerful tour guide. There were people from Japan, Canada and Michigan on my tour so if does have a worldwide reputation. The rain let up during the tour, so I got a few good shots out in the garden.

While the narrative emphasizes the weird quirks of construction, I enjoyed seeing the meticulous craftsmanship like parquee and pressed wall coverings in many of the rooms. The original furniture was all auctioned off, but period antiques are displayed in many rooms to give a feel for what they must have looked like in Sarah Winchester's time. Not a lot is known about the woman or why she had such a mania for building, hence the "mystery" in its title, but I came away from the experience feeling I'd learned a little about California history and abnormal psychology. The prices at the cafe scream, "Tourist trap!" ($6 for a soft drink), but items in the gift shop seemed reasonably priced.

While I was doing the tourist thing, Phil visited some people at eBay Motors. Their "campus" was similar to Edmunds although the cubicles allowed for a little more privacy and the staff was more far-flung with offices in Kansas and the Northeast and even some outposts overseas. The people he talked to were enthusiastic about learning more about Edmunds, so he felt the visit was a success.

We picked up some coffee on the way home and talked to Phil's mother on his cell. She seems stronger but still a little disoriented after her heart attack last week. She talked to me about a women's club gathering she is planning for March, and it made me feel good to hear that she is looking forward to future events. Phil's father is recovering from his knee surgery too and agreed to set up a Skype call during the weekend so that Phil's mother and aunt could see each other as they talked. I got a call from the Census people and committed to a training program at the end of April. Phil built a fire and we both got out our laptops and click-clacked away.

We decided to walk down to the Club House for a drink and the rain started to fall as we walked there. Luckily, it's only about 3 blocks and Phil had an umbrella. It was cozy to be inside warmed by the fireplace and five or six monitors of various sizes broadcasting sports, sports, and more sports. The bartender was very upbeat and courteous, ready to listen, give advice or join in on a joke, depending on the needs of the group he was serving. We had a delicious Sierra Nevada on tap and some munchies and walked down the first hole on our way home.

It was great to come back into a warm (yes warm!) house after our wet, chilly walk. We kept the glow going with lentil soup, cornbread, a salad with lots of trimmings and a little more beer. Phil surveyed Steve's video collection and came up with an interesting 1977 movie called The Duellists. Based on a Joseph Conrad story, it had masterful art direction and costumes, an unusual plot, and serviceable if not quite convincing performances by Harvey Keitel and Keith Carradine. We gave each other backrubs as we watched, and then braved the ice cold downstairs to go to bed.

Out of this World -- in Santa Cruz and Beyond

Tuesday, March 2. We woke up to heavy rain this morning which escalated to a downpour. I settled in to write some blog posts while Phil had a telephone interview. With the rain pelting the windows and hammering the roof, we began to feel a little stir crazy. I got the assignment of finding a place to go for lunch. After surfing the Internet for a while, I came across the Saturn Cafe. It had great reviews and the website was a treat for the eye.

By the time we drove to Santa Cruz, the rain had let up to a drizzle. The Saturn Cafe is at 145 Laurel on the south end of the downtown shopping district. It's part of a row of stores with parking in the back, but its circular exterior sets it apart from the average minimall. The interior design is truly kooky, quirky and one of a kind. Many of the globe ceiling lights have pink rings around them like, well, Saturn, and lots of the furnishings, like the fifties era refrigerator near the entrance reflect the pink flamingo color scheme. The booths around the outer ring of the dining room have plexiglass tops over shallow display areas with kitschy knick knacks from bygone eras. Our table had butterflies and flowers and doves in assorted day glo colors.

The menu features vegan and vegetarian comfort food. I had corn dogs and Phil had a Tuno Melt -- both of them soy based imitations of the kind of thing you'd expect in any diner. We also had thin fries which wer delightfully crisp. Our waiter was happy to explain to us about the origin of Tuno and how the Saturn had a special recipe for its tuno salad to make it even more fishy tasting.

Phil had a phone interview, so while he talked in the car, I went for a little stroll up Beach Hill to get a view of the ocean and check out some of the glorious old Victorian homes along Main Street. The most glorious of all is Golden Gate Villa, an imposing multi-gabled beauty with an equally ornate carriage house behind it. It's so large I assumed it must have been built as a boarding house for vacationers, but it was actually a private residence for many years and now appears to be up for sale for a mere $8,500,000. What a time to have forgotten my camera.

By the time I got back to the car, Phil had finished his interview, so we headed for home, stopping off at Aptos Coffee Roasters for a couple of cups to go and some low fat oatmeal cookies. After a while, we put Dixie on her leash and headed for Hidden Beach again. Because of the downpour earlier, there weren't many people out so we walked all the way down to the beach. The breakers were phenomenal, cresting about ten feet above the water's surface in row after thundering row. The water was so churned up that frothy clumps of foam lay scattered over the beach like huge meringues. We walked along the water's edge for a while, but the surf was so loud that having a conversation was impossible. We climbed stairs labelled "No Trespassing! No Loitering! Observe Leash Law!" over a massive molded concrete sea wall and into a gated community.

Lucky for us, this enclave of million dollar homes carefully tiered row after row up the palisade to maximize the ocean views just happened to be the terminus of Club House Drive. We trudged up the hill, across the train tracks, and around the bend, braving the seemingly endless stream of SUVs and minivans blythely doing 50 in a 25 mile an hour zone. Everyone, even Dixie, was relieved to finally make it to the actual club house so we could detour into the relatively quieter limited access streets and finally home.

We thought Dixie would be exhausted by the long walk, but she was more energetic than ever, circling the living room as break neck speed and barking up a storm. Before our "little glass of wine," we had a meditation session and Dixie seemed disturbed by our sitting so still. She had a couple of extended barking spells and needed a lot of petting to reassure her after we were done. With our wine, we had a nice dinner of Greek salad and salmon, ratatouille and pita bread with bread pudding for dessert. We talked to Phil's aunt and Drew and Tony after dinner and settled down in front of Steve's toasty stove for an evening of emails and Sudoku.

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

Monday, March 1. Clouds roiled but no raindrops were falling, so after a nice breakfast, I left Phil in the midst of his teleconference meeting for my first solo trip. I drove over to Capitola, a tiny beach town cuddled between the coast and steep hills with an artistic flair. It's not so upscale or precious as Carmel, and especially on such a gray, chilly day, the brightly painted clapboard buildings seem like a bit of manmade sunshine. The shopkeepers are also very warm, brightening each time a rare rainy day customer appears. It's easy too imagine how crowded these streets must be on a sunny weekend, so I feel thankful that this pretirement excursion has given me the opportunity to linger in the shops and stroll along the beach as if I owned the place.

I also decided to do a little grocery shopping on the way home and unfortunately Highway 1 was not as idyllic as Capitola-by-the-Sea. I was shut out of the exit ramp I wanted to take so I had to take the next one and bushwhack back, getting a closer look at a few office parks than I wanted. Finally, I got there and Trader Joe's was as busy as ever. It felt good to get home and have a quiet lunch with Phil.

While I showered and changed clothes for our Valentine dinner, Phil had his second Monday teleconference. Then we headed off to Pacific Grove again. It was still chilly and cloudy but the sky had brightened a little, and Phil was excited about finally golfing at the Pacific Grove Municipal Golf Links and I looked forward to strolling around sleepy Pacific Grove. It's one of the first places I ever visited in California and way back then, it seemed a special forgotten place.

Now, it's not so forgotten. The shops along Lighthouse Avenue have been gussied up and many of the charming turn of the century residences have been refurbished. I couldn't help nosing around a few with "For Sale" signs and it seems there are still some reasonable (by California standards) prices as long as there is no ocean view. The Hart Mansion is going for $900,000 and a two bedroom a few blocks away was selling for $400,000.

The high point of my excursion was visiting the Point Pinos Lighthouse, conveniently located across the street from the golf course. The volunteer there had grown up in Long Beach and went to Lowell and Wilson. She told me about a lady lighthouse keeper, a wealthy widow who entertained Pacific Grove's finest families in her cozy quarters and I noticed a display about Robert Louis Stevenson's visit to the place. Outside again, I encountered a deer only about ten feet from me but unfortunately I did not get my camera out in time to capture the moment. There were also a gaggle of Canadian geese making life miserable for a frustrated golfer on the 10th hole.

I continued walking back towards town and stopped by the monarch butterfly grove, but the butterflies appear to have flown for the year. Along the way, I was impressed by the clever use of paint and other accents to make the vintage homes distinct. Not so flamboyant as Capitola, but still colorful and bright. I checked out the menus of several restaurants, including Fandango and Passionfish. Making a choice for dinner was not easy. There were even some tempting open air booths at the farmer's market. Finally, I decided on the Victorian Corner Restaurant, lots of variety in the menu and good mid-range prices for the entrees. I started to walk back toward the golf course when Phil called to let me know he was done and coming to pick me up.

I had eggplant parmagiana and he had butternut squash ravioli at the Victorian Corner. Our waitress was very attentive and suggested cheesecake for dessert. It was excellent. Phil told me about his round of golf. The marshall had escorted him past a party of slow golfers so he could play a few holes along the ocean. He said the views were spectacular, but the wind off the ocean was freezing. Both of us are pretty amazed at how much the rain and cold weather have affected us. We've gotten spoiled by the mild winters in Southern California, I guess. By the time we left at about 7 pm, Pacific Grove had practically shut down for the night.

Rainy Days and Sundays

February 28. It was a little sad waking up Sunday and realizing that Drew and Tony have to leave today. We had a very healthy breakfast of oatmeal and bran muffins, and then they started packing and even fitted in the extra set of golf clubs Phil had brought up for Peter. The weather was fine, a brisk wind and blue skies with dramatic billowing clouds. We drove two cars to Pacific Grove and stopped at Toastie's for brunch. It's got a great country kitchen decor and generous servings and the place was bustling with the after church crowd.

We walked around town a bit and then went down to Lover's Point to watch the surf. Maybe is was the aftermath of the earthquake off Chile or maybe it was storms at sea, but the breakers kept thundering in and booming against the rocky coastline. We walked from one location to another and took lots of photos of course. Silly us, how can you possibly make a wave stand still? Phil got a call from Peter and learned that his mother was doing better and would be able to go home on Monday.

Around 2 pm, Drew and Tony got in the Mitsubishi and headed south, and Phil and I got in the Honda and took the coastal route by the golf course and even drove through Asilomar. We decided if tomorrow was not rainy, we'd return to Pacific Grove. Phil hoped to get 9 holes in and I wanted to see the butterfly grove and the Pinos Point Lighthouse. We had put off a special Valentine's Dinner (we had thought Peter would be visiting us that weekend) so we decided to find a nice restaurant in Pacific Grove and have a dinner out there.

The drive from Aptos to the Monterey area is much less hectic than the drive north. The road passes massive sand dunes and acres and acres of cultivated fields, strawberries and artichokes mainly. Now and then, there'll be a farm stand with piles of brilliantly colored fruits and vegetables, and glimpses of farm towns like Castroville and Watsonville in the distance. It's just a thumbnail of all the growing that goes on in the Salinas Valley and the San Joaquin further east, but it's very restful and reassuring taking a Sunday drive in the country--a throwback to childhood.

As we passed the huge towers of the power plant at Moss Landing, a long-legged crane stood right by the side of the road, watching us pensively as we passed. The Elkhorn Slough is a well-known bird sanctuary and has become a kayaking mecca of sorts. It was fun to think we'd bagged a birder's trophy from the comfort of our car.

Back home, we took Dixie for a long walk all the way to Hidden Beach. She was in high spirits, prancing ahead of us on her leash. We met a Pekinese mix (with an owner attached) and the owner explained "parallel socialization" to us. If two dogs are confrontational meeting head on (as Dixie and the Pekinese were), they may slowly accept each other if they walk side by side for awhile. We tried it with excellent results for the humans. The Pekinese's owner had lots to tell us about his trips to India and the care and feeding of small dogs. Sad to say, the two dogs were still a little snippy with each other as we parted ways at the intersection of Los Altos and Dolores.

The pathway into Hidden Beach, hemmed in by two steep hills, is always a little spooky to me, made even spookier by the shadows among the towering eucalyptus trees and the ominous hooting of an owl. Phil had heard the owl when he walked the golf course, so he knew what hole we were near. Most of the families at the playground were packing up to go home, and we passed several dog walkers heading home too. We did make it to the crest of the path by the park benches for a look at the surf. Thick cloud cover made the sunset pretty murky so we didn't linger. Dixie is such a little trooper. She made it all the way home on her own steam and gobbled up her dinner.

We had a more leisurely dinner of fat free refried beans and tofu burritoes and rice with half a beer. We have been reading passages from the Jon Kabat Kinn book and wanted to be relatively clear-headed for a meditation session. It went well. Dixie sat quietly on the sofa between us, like a miniature Buddha. (Hats off to Ron Burgundy) Then we finished watching Hitchcock's Vertigo and I got curious about the San Francisco locations. Phil said we could stop by San Juan Bautista on the way home if the timing was right and the rain wasn't falling.

Oddly enough, having spent most of the day away made Steve's house seem more like home to us. We settled in to a nice deep sleep. We can't figure out why we're sleeping so well. Is it the quiet or the cold or pushing back our sleep schedule to 11 pm or is it pretirement?