Spontaneous Adventures at Pier 39!

This morning started out simple enough; waking up earlier than usual, feeling bored and restless, complaining of a want to see different scenery.
A little while later, The Dink was loaded, and I was perched in the passenger seat with a pair of comfortable walking shoes and thick socks on, itching for adventure! No agenda, no final location, just "drive till we figure out what we're going to do". After a few false starts, we wound up heading for the Bay, San Francisco. Once there, we could decide what to see and where to stop.
In the end, we detoured at what USED to be the Nut Tree to pick up a couple drinks, a snack for Dink, and a quick raid of the Sanrio (Hello Kitty) outlet. I picked up a Hello Kitty plush change purse and game pen for Dink and we were off again! Before I knew it, we were crossing the Bay Bridge while I tried desperately to think of anything but my impending DOOOOOM.
I was surprised I'd managed to avoid eating drive-thru crapfood while on the road, but by the time we landed at Pier 39, I was ravenous. I do not recommend Luigi's Pizzeria of San Francisco. Their chowder was great... and that was it. The FOURTEEN DOLLAR tiny lasagna was cheeseless, bland, tasted like it'd been made with canned tomato sauce, and had meat marbles in it. This is supposedly "Luigi's grandmother's recipe"? Riiiight. Our drinks weren't refilled until our check was brought around - and we had to point it out to have it done - along with no box being offered for my lasagna (and no questions being asked as to why it had two bites taken out of it before the plate was slid clear across the table). Meanwhile, the large group at the next table over (same server) had their beer pitchers refilled twice, which sent our server skirting our table both ways. He seemed bewildered over the lack of tip for his lack of care.
After lunch, we took Dink to see the private sailboats tied to the end of the pier, then made the trek back to the aquarium entrance. She'd been talking about fish ever since we'd mentioned to her that we'd take her to see "the fish" (we'd originally considered lunch at the Rainforest Cafe, where you eat beside aquariums) and she practically danced into the entrance.
She got to see all sorts of fish in all sorts of tanks, see shining white lacy jellyfish for the first time in real life, and walk down an "under the pier" simulation tank-tunnel. There were "What does a squid's tentacles feel like?" and "What does an octopus' beak feel like?" touch panels to explore - not that she'd go near them! - and a mock-up crab pot to play with; then another tank-tunnel, this one with large fish and a LARGE nurse shark. She marveled at every last fish, waving and talking to all of them... until she saw the nurse shark. THEN she started climbing Daddy, saying "Out out out!" Fortunately, the nurse shark didn't notice her until we'd hit the end of the shark tunnel, so we were almost out anyhow.
Back upstairs, we got to visit the touch tanks, where rays and small tiger sharks swim to the edges of the pools, eager to be touched. The most amazing part of that, to me, was the rays. They're HIGHLY inquisitive, and very friendly. They can easily recognize when someone new has entered the edge of their pond, but can't see past the edge. It's only when you lean over the top to cast a shadow that they know you're there, but once they see the shadow... they move fast! Fluttering wings and gliding shapes sliding through the water towards you, and then.. the most amazing thing.. they pop their heads clean out of the water, up past the gills! They look you square in the face with both eyes, with the most curious, searching expression, for that one moment that they manage to stay above water, and then sink back in and hold very still, pressed against the wall, eagerly waiting for you to pet their wings.
I'm hoping, the next time I go, I'll be able to get a good shot of video of them rising up to meet me. And oh, you should see their excitement when they rise up and see a baby! They strain to stay up, as if they're eager to take in this strange, different creature.
Anyhow, the aquarium had snakes, and of all things, a chinchilla. That was instantly Dink's favorite. The fact that it was as active and hyper as her.. well, it might have been what won her heart. That and the fact the creature looked like a cross between a bunny and a kitty.
When we left the aquarium and tired of listening to a street performer playing a dulcimer, we returned to the car. I was exhausted. Sore. So very desperate for the gallon of water I knew I'd left in the trunk. But the best show ended up being yet to come..
When she saw the car, Dinkle rushed at it, fast as a held hand would allow, and plastered herself to the back door that held her carseat, hugging it like a long-lost friend. "Awwww.." she said, over and over. "Awwwww.." while we convinced her she had to dislodge herself if we were going to get the door OPEN for her to get in. As soon as it was open.. SUCTION-CUP to the side of her carseat, saying "Awwww... Awwww.." Oye.. LOL
Once inside, she was only too happy to be headed home. We hadn't thought to take along even an umbrella/cane stroller, and the crowd got thick enough after lunch that it would have been more a hindrance than a help, but we ALL got a good, long workout and needed to crawl into the car with groans and sighs of contentment.
Oh, yes.. Dink also got a Kid Nipper, shaped like a penguin head. We've all had a time taking turns chasing her through the house (and getting chased through the house) with it, nipping away at her neck and ankles.. or picking up toys and dropping them again.. or play-feeding it.. or pretending ventriloquism. Best $7 ever spent.

My Tips for The HIp Girl's Guide Giveaway

1. When making vegetable (or meat and veg) broth, DON'T start with boiling water - start with a small splash of oil and throw your veg in the pot when it's HOT. Let 'em cook a little, and even get some caramelized edges. Dry heat (a small amount of oil is considered dry) does wonders to develop flavors and gives your final broth a much more complex taste.
2. Hate cleaning? I can't stand it, but I love a clean house. I go onto iTunes and download full - FREE - audiobooks. What's the catch? The *authors* are the ones reading the books, and they're generally names you've never heard of, but will become addicted to. I have found a dozen authors I love to listen to by doing this.
I find it so much easier to clean when my brain is occupied with the complexities of building a scene, and I can pop in my earbuds if I need to vacuum. It uses less electricity than running the tv in the background, and I don't find myself frustrated and distracted by what is showing on the screen.
Alternately, you can sift through "classes" on iTunes U - also free - to listen to.
3. I have three smallish, clear bins with locking-handle lids. In one, I keep my dressy flats and heels; the second holds my typical walking shoes, sneakers, etc. In the third, I keep my muckyboots and work boots. This not only keeps them from ending up all over the house, but keeps me from tracking mud.
If you don't wear your shoes often (like me) and live in an area where you're likely to bump into at least one spider or scorpion in the night (like me), the the locking bins will guarantee you stepping into your boots and shoes without a worrying wonder of what might be sharing the space with your toes, or having to swab your open-toed heels with tissue to clear out the webs when springtime comes and you're back to wearing them.
4. Hang on to your old seed catalogs that have recipes in them. Even if you transfer the recipes to your computer, your kids will love flipping through to look at the pictures, plan make-believe (or real) gardens, and use them for collages.

Chicken On The Roof!

Sitting in the living room at the Sac House, watching No Reservations and Bizarre Foods.. And the cry goes out. "Kaaat!"
Usually, this means there's something someone else is afraid of that needs taking care of.
"There's a chicken in the yard!"
"...a chicken?!"
"There's a CHICKEN in the YARD."
"OH MY GOD IF I CATCH IT CAN I KEEP IT?!"
So.. there's this chicken in the back yard, nearly on the porch. A tiny pullet that looks so cute and SO lost. I ask for bread and hurry out, calling to it.
Apparently, this chick isn't a lost pet, as she fled me the whole time, eventually skipping up to the roof. She's still up there.

Worth The Drive..

I took Dinkle on a short outing around Old Town Sac last night with friends - we had a BLAST.

We rode a horse-drawn carriage down a river rock cobbled road...

Bumpty bumpty bumpty

 Thanked our VERY gentle Bay engine, Angel...

Don't let the ears fool you - she loves her job! Driver was talking to her.

Ate Fanny Ann's World Famous wings...

That's right.. FULL WINGS. Each one counts as a SINGLE wing. 24 per bucket.

 ...and raided The Candy Barrel!

$21.00 worth of candy later..

By the time we decided to hit Old Sac, the winds were up and the temperature had dropped, so all the carriages had their tops up. I plan on taking her out again, once the weather is warmer, and take a quick film of her if I can. When our ride behind Angel (one of several horses from Top Hand Ranch) was over, we disembarked and asked the driver if it would be okay for Gabby to come around to the horse's head. Turns out Angel is a pure lady. She looked around towards her driver, then turned her head towards Gabby and bobbed down for pettings. Since I was perched on the edge of a raised boardwalk (whose boards scrape ABOVE my ankle when I'm standing at street level), with one arm wrapped around a column and the other arm wrapped around the waist of a toddler being stretched out towards a Beast of Moderate Size and Immense Trampling Power, I had no hands to get a shot of her Very First Touch, but it's a moment seared into my brain for eternity.
Let's put it this way.. Earlier this week, she SAW a Real Live Horse for the first time, when one of the carriages clopped past while we were walking from our friend's car. You know how they say your eyes dilate slightly when you feel attraction? I got to watch her pupils WHOOM out huge when the horse tap-danced past her. I had to stop and announce that she had officially experienced that weird "girl|horse" connection that ensnared so many of us into pleading for horse figurines and notebooks and stuffed animals.

Below are a couple pictures that are not mine. Check out the boardwalk.

Photo copyright: Top Hand Ranch

FreeFoto.com image used under Creative Commons Usage

Corn Husks and Potato Peels and Ozone On My Tongue

I can taste the ozone on my tongue when he sprays the quietly flaming coals. He was calling me over to see the vortex the heat had made, but I took too long. All that remained was a few small tongues. I ran for the camera, nearly begging him to tempt the fates.
"Just one time, please? I want to get a shot of it!"
Saner, survivalistic minds were not available, and I readied the camera as he went out with the bottle of fluid.
A short, pounding stream. A WHUFF of heat that rolled in the door, buffeting against my skin.
"It's there!" he shouted. "Do you see it?!"
Several fast clicks, muttered curses, and a valiant squeal.
"It's AWESOME! Look look!"

I hurried off to dump the picture to the computer, and minutes later, heard my name called.
"Could you shuck the corn while I peel the potatoes?"
Out again, still smelling burnt fuel and toasted air with every breath. Quiet, laughing talk over our jobs; me marveling at how quickly your body falls back into old strides. I thought nothing of asking for the husks and peels to be left for me to scatter on the Back Forty (The Sandbox), where I once imagined garden plans for hours.
Once we were done, I pulled out from under the sink a tray of coffee grounds, several potsworth that I'd never gotten around to taking out. They dry quickly, so it was never a concern to me that they remained down there, and now I had other things to take out with them.
The grounds, husks, and peels I scattered, flinging from rocks to fence, and sprinkling small amounts of each under The Citrus (now thought to be a Citron). For a moment, it felt like it should have. I was stepping out from the cool air and controlled environment, the armoring walls and blocking roof. It felt like walking out into an oven, but flinging the offal felt like the true me.
I don't have any lofty reasonings, or any smug bitterness regarding choices others have made in their lives, with their lives. I know simply that I must return to who I am, who I was, and live my ways for my reasons. Cynics are aplenty, that doesn't concern me. No matter what the future holds, I feel free in one small, insignificant act. I gave back to the earth and in doing, thanked the Mother for all she gave that we might revel in the excess grace and circumstance has allowed us.

And then.. it was time to eat.

As if the Mother were having a moment of laughing nudge, we decided to watch Avatar (the blue people movie) after dinner. More than ever, I was grateful. In simple, unspoken, wordless ways. Tonight, I have been reborn.

Welcome, then, to The American Gothic.

Dinner was lovely.

How Our Little Stinkerbell Got So GRIM.

GRIM.. -sigh-
Gabrielle Renee-Iris M****. The dash makes me twitch every time I see it, dunno why.

Silly was the one to decide she'd have that name. And she shares the story with total strangers if they so much as coo at Stinkerbell. Gabrielle for Xena's companion. Renee because it's the actress' name.
We thought... okay, that's done. She'll have Blue's last name. All set.
..and then the day after seeing our little girl's first sonogram (one a kidney-bean, the other a lizard), Silly's Nan passed away. This is a woman who'd fought hard to stay around for her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren; past the death of her husband and soul mate, past the loss of her sight, past weekly dialysis and failing organs, past a money-grubbing daughter in law's bumbling care. She had the BEST (and apparently lower-class) British accent and a spitfire spirit to back it up. The first time she met me, we attempted to explain who I was. She cut everyone off, took my hand, and said "Call me Nanna."
On her last good day, she sat and talked to Silly for hours, told her all about her pregnancies and gave her every bit of mothering advice she could squeeze in. She touched the sonogram prints, and got to see them in whatever small amount of vision she had left. The next day, when we got the call, we rushed to the hospital. She was still hanging on.
She waited till we all got into the room with her, the whole family touching her arms, legs, and hair. Silly said "I'm here, Nanna." As quickly and quietly as the next breath, she was gone.
Months later, I'd hear a low-class British accent over the newborn's monitor, calling me by name in a calm, comfortable, seeking way, followed by "...could you come in here, please?" The only other person in the house was The Boy, and he was sitting in the same room, engrossed in his video game. Acting nonchalant, I got up from my desk and went to GRIM's room. Sure enough, no one there. Just Gabby. Gabby who had somehow managed to get her hat off and bury her face in it.
What else could I do? I said "Thanks, Nanna, I see it." and got the hat out. Checked that Gabby was breathing normally, and closed the door behind me when I left.
Every once in a while, Gabby giggles and waves at nothing. She's very focused on SOMETHING when she does it, and she's done it since she first learnt how to smile. After that experience, ever since.. I say hello to Silly's Nan and Pampy. I hope they enjoy their visits.

Anyhow.. that's how Gabby ended up with two middle names, and how a baby girl with the initials GRM became our GRIM little giggler.