Blog Trek

Musings from My Vacation

I came home from vacation and received my edited manuscript.  I've been pretty occupied over the last 3 weeks and Blog Trek again has been neglected.

Vikk & I were able to meet and go on a sunset cruise Sunday evening.  The weather in Boston Harbor was cool, crisp and kind.  Vikk used up a whole roll of film and was kicking herself all over the boat because she had decided not to bring her camera and was reduced to using up a disposable I had thrown into my bag.  It was great seeing a good friend as well as going back to the one place in the US that I really feel at home.

My research trip up to Maine involved a lot of driving--too much, in fact.  I bit off more than I could really chew comfortably, and in the end of things, didn't need to do it, either.  Bar Harbor was very beautiful, but not what I remembered from a trip up there in the early 90's. 

Everything looked different, and I really wondered if I was mixing it up with another location, but I remembered going to the Arcadia National Park, because it was too foggy to see anything much.  My family joined another group in a trek to find the water, and I remember vividly traipsing over slippery rocks for a long while and just hearing waves lapping, because we couldn't see anything.  Finally, I told my then-husband that we could be endangering ourselves, because we had no idea if the tide was coming in and it could be creeping around behind us.  He agreed this was indeed a possibility and we turned back.  That sort of incident really sticks in my head, but the harbor at Bar Harbor looked like somewhere I had never been in my life.

Taking no chances this time, I had booked all my hotels before leaving on the trip.  If I hadn't, I probably would have stayed in Augusta when I found out how long it was taking me to drive up the turnpike, and how boring that turnpike was--nothing for miles but trees growing on either side of the road.  I was searching for a suitable rural area to place a farm, and the further north I went, the more barren the terrain.  I read that the principle source of income was either tourism or blueberry picking.  I think the other source of income is from LL Bean Outlets.  I hit one in Bar Harbor, one in Freeport, plus the main store.  I couldn't beat the prices either for pants or shoes, and ended up mailing myself a package when I got to Peabody/Salem.

I would recommend ignoring the advice of the gentleman working at the Visitors Center on the edge of Freeport.  He told a man at the counter to avoid going into the small LL Bean outlet store close to the Visitors Center and go for the big store.  I luckily ignored this advice and found that the small outlet stores in both Freeport and Bar Harbor have all the discounted items, presumably catalogue returns.  Where else could I find a pair of high quality twill pants suitable for work that at their final discount cost me $9.95?  Or a pair of leather clogs, also suitable for work, at $26.00?  Hence the need to mail home my booty, versus cramming everything into my suitcase and staggering around with it for close to a week.

I finally found the cows and farms on my way back down to Salem, on a stretch of turnpike that I got to by missing the recommended Mapquest route.  It was also a stretch that didn't involve miles of nothing but trees.  I got to see rural Maine and get the location for the 3rd novel in my series.  Mission finally accomplished.

After all that driving, I was very happy to see the Holiday Inn in Peabody.  Thanks to Hotwire.com I ended up in a suite for $75.00.  I discovered Salem rolls up her sidewalks at 5PM on a Friday evening.  I have never seen a town center more dead in my entire life. 

However, I would like to thank the really helpful girl behind the counter at the wine tasting booth in Kappy's Liquors for allowing me to finally taste the wines I had bought up in a winery outside Bar Harbor.  I had been unable to remove the corks using the opener I purchased.  She offered to do the job, and demonstrated an opener that I then purchased and will in future pack into my luggage.  There will be no more aborted wine bottle openings in rustic cottages for me.  My new opener is light and very portable, and opened that completely immovable cork with a deft snap of her wrist.

More about my trip in another blog.

Time for R & R

I started the process again to get my surgery on my other foot.  I'm hoping for mid-May.  I need to get this over with so I can actually enjoy summer, although I know at least half of it will be spent hobbling around.  Nine weeks tomorrow since my first surgery, and my bone is about 90% fused.  That's 10% a week, but who's counting (me, that's who.)

I've got to get myself back into a regular writing schedule.  For weeks now I have only had the time to peck at chapters instead of making concentrated assaults at the second draft of "Rose Tattoo."  Each time I actually do work on it, I make improvements but just not enough.  One of my fellow critique group members asked me how I manage to read books and write reviews.  I emailed her that quite frankly, I don't know.  I need to organize my time better, so I can get those books read quicker and the reviews out earlier, but I try my best.  Something always comes along to interfere, or distract.

I constantly have to remind myself not to procrastinate.  The trouble is, I need to stop and smell the roses sometimes, and right now is one of those times.  Completing 2 big projects in one week (reading the end of "Christine Falls" by Benjamin Black (John Banville) was like completing a marathon, and then there were those taxes) was a major accomplishment that seemed to drain all my resources. 

It's time for another vacation, even if it's a long weekend.  The friends I used to go up to the Sierras with just moved to Washington State, so there will be no more out-of-town-on-Thursday-evenings trips with the cooler as big as a coffin filling the back seat of my Escape and the dogs riding on top of it, perched on blankets while the entire trunk space was filled with bags and plastic containers with the dry goods.  My son's surgery for a meniscus repair is on April 23rd. 

Will Big Sur even be a remote possibility?

Talking Your Way Around Houston

I just returned from a trip to Houston.  My primary focus of that was to visit a friend who is very seriously ill, but of course, also to visit with Vikk.  Both of those goals were accomplished in a whirlwind of travel and talking, both of which I seem to manage quite well.  My ill friend has an amazingly positive attitude--wonderful to see, and I'm in awe of her fortitude.  Vikk and I had a marathon visit--12 hours of sustained talking as we worked our way from a noontime lunch at The Cadillac Bar (of course, a marguerita to celebrate publication was included) to a tour of the gentrification (read gutting) of Houston Heights, then the 6th Ward, where we researched book locations for Vikk, followed by a tour of the local cemetary, where we managed to find Howard Hughes' gravesite.  We then progressed to eating supper, spending 2 hours in the cafe area of Borders Books and then a final cup of coffee for her and a Diet Coke for me at the IHOP before she delivered me back to Pat's door at 12:30AM. 

Never let it be said that we let conversation lag.

Recovering from vacation

I'm back in Big Bad.  My friend just wrote that she was tired after I left.  Guess I wore her out (& myself, too!) 

Today I had jet lag once again.  These short trips are hell.  I don't know how other people manage, but I feel the effects of the 3 hour time difference between Miami and L.A.  Today I was so tired after lunch that I wanted to go take a nap, not see a patient, grocery shop, take film in to be developed (unsure of what rules and regulations would change on the days I flew, I took disposable cameras to be on the safe side--cheap if they were lost,) take the dog to the park and do some cooking.  I had already seen a patient at 9AM and then driven over to pick the dog up from the kennels in Sun Valley, which put 48 miles on my odometer for the morning.

Yesterday evening I got in the door at 6:30PM, my son left shortly after and I made soup for dinner, unpacked, then settled down to take care of emails.  I also did a little writing and hit the bed around midnight.  That may have contributed to my desire to take a nap this afternoon, but I find that when I get on the computer, I tend to lose track of time.

I enjoyed my trip, despite the fact that it went so fast, I don't know what happened.  Wednesday was lost in travel.  Thursday we went to Fairchild Tropical Gardens, despite rain, wind, thunder and lightning.  The irony of that trip wasn't the weather, it was the fact that I had set the location in my manuscript at a time when there was a tropical storm in progress.  In a case of life imitating art, the streets started flooding, leaves and even branches dropped, and if it hadn't been for the tram tour, we wouldn't have tackled the actual gardens and it would have been a definite miss.  They are beautiful, even in torrential rain.  Luckily, it did ease up after we were done with the tram, and we managed to walk to and from the conservatory and a glass exhibit.

Friday turned out to be overcast in the morning, then the sun came out.  We went out on the boat owned by my friend's aunt and uncle.  It was the only day without a small craft advisory or rip tide warnings.  Indeed, it was the only day to take a boat out during the entire time I was there.  Another goal accomplished.  Another piece of my research completed.  And my friend's uncle even gave me a great name for my male protagonist's new boat.

Saturday was a day of driving for my friend's husband, who volunteered to take us to Coconut Grove, Little Havana, Downtown and then all the way up to Boynton Beach for a family dinner.  "The Grove" and Little Havana were the subjects of more research.  The weather cooperated, and we didn't use the umbrellas that had stayed with us since Thursday.

There's nothing like actually seeing the locales to gain the flavor of a city.  My memories of Miami had become blunted by time, but now they're sharp and ready to be layered into the second draft of ROSE TATTOO.

It  was well worth the jet lag.

Change can be Good

I seem to have a driving theme going this week, but it's unintentional.  However, after having 4 years of being told by Mapquest to use my 4 wheel drive to forge a new route up the permanently-closed-for-years dirt road, which is actually totally inaccessible due to a wall of cement bags to prevent mudslides, and then a pretty much straight up a hill of loose dirt, I found today that I am no longer being advised to take that route.

The hills around here have a lot of dead-ends.  Most of them were listed as through-roads on Mapquest.  I don't know who did the survey, or who came back to review it, but I heartily thank them.  I can only hope that all those other roads that are dead-ends are also now correctly listed as such, and I won't be sent on yet another wild goose chase that results in backing down narrow streets or having to reverse in spaces only accessible to mountain goats.

While I realize my driving has improved remarkably over these past 4 years, I really could do without the heart-accelerating thrills these forays into Highland Park afford me.  You would think this was the uncharted Amazon jungle, to see where I have been asked to go in an effort to get to the freeway.

Mapquest mavens, I salute you.

Ruminations on vacation and the independent film community

There are two bad things about taking a vacation:  getting ready to go and then having to gear back up for work after returning. 

Fortunately for me, I had a couple of cancellations the day before I left and was able to get my paperwork into the office by 5:30PM.  The dog had left the evening before, thanks to my son picking her up, so I was able to come home, eat dinner and complete my packing.  As usual, I couldn't decide what to take and even what size suitcase to drag out and dust off.  In the end, I took the bigger one and a variety of clothing, because Houston weather can turn on a dime, falling 30 degrees in a matter of hours, at this time of year.

My trip couldn't probably have been much better, except for the 88 degree temps.  What more can anyone ask for than a comfortable bed with an air conditioner in the room, good food, good wine, great coffee and snacks, and best of all, the company of really good friends? 

Staying with Pat and seeing Vikk for a day left me totally relaxed and energized.  Pat and I walked, visited the zoo, of all things, the Japanese garden and the antique shops in the Heights.  We attended the independent film festival and vegged out.  Vikk took me to visit her parents and also to eat Tex Mex and drink a Margarita.  We also hit the venerable House of Pies for an incredible Black Bottom Pie and a to-die-for Lemon Meringue, but we were good--she left with a doggie bag after we had camped out there for about 2 hours. 

Pat supplied an unexpected, and somewhat questionable gift in the guise of a personal groomer with a propensity for biting.  Jake arrived on Saturday and left Monday morning.  Saturday night he slept with me, Sunday night be slept with her, but arrived at 5AM to sit on my head and then touch his cold nose to mine before licking my face and even my hair.  Before everyone gets totally excited, thinking that Pat and I shared some young stud, let me tell you that Jake is a very attractive year old alley cat who moved in with one of her sons and his family. 

I suppose we could have shut Mr. Jake in the bathroom for the remainder of the night, but after getting rejected by Pat and finishing his fish-breathed grooming exploits in my room, he settled down.  We actually enjoyed most of his visit, but were equally glad to get the house back to ourselves.

The film festival entries were an eclectic assortment.  The committee had arranged them in just the right order--when the subject matter brought the audience down, they slipped in a couple of comedies to perk up the proceedings.  I must make an effort to attend the next LA Independent Film Fest--I haven't had such a delightful surprise at the quality of independent film-making since I saw the end of semester projects in GoldenWest College's program.  So much talent.  Why in the world do we get remakes of stupid TV shows like Gilligan's Island when these people are available and willing to work their proverbial butts off?

Anyway, I'm back.  Now the question is...did anyone miss me?

A weekend away

I just returned from a weekend away.  I can't really say it was out of town, but then I suppose Huntington Harbor could be classed as out of L.A., even though it's really pretty close. 

The weather was kind, I had good company and plenty of enjoyable events.  What more could I ask for after a week where I felt overwhelmed.  My biggest hurdles to getting out of town were my supervisor returning to work the same day I left and packing.  By the time I finished talking with her about issues and problems, it was 6PM--at least 30 mins later than I had planned.  I came home and completed throwing things into my suitcase and daypack.  I had no brain left for decision making and ended up taking far too much for only 2 days away.   I managed to zip up everything, drag the suitcase, daypack, dog supplies (food, treats, dishes, etc.,) dog crate and 2 jackets (waterproof in case we went out on the boat, plus my leather jacket for Saturday evening) down the 18 steps an load them into the car.  The dog and I climbed into the front seats and we were off, the cats left behind with 2 litter boxes and their long term feeder and waterer. 

I frequently have to come to the conclusion that getting ready for a trip takes all the excitement out of it.  There is always so much to be accomplished that by the time I actually lock the door and go, I am absolutely exhausted.  I had bills to mail, my comforter was still occupying most of my trunk space because I hadn't found the time to stop off at the cleaners, and I had washing that needed to be done, but no washing powder.  Before I started work, I had all those errands to accomplish.  On the way out of town, I bought flowers for the friend I was staying with and filled the car up with gas.  Then I had to drive to Long Beach to drop the dog at my son's apartment.  I finally arrived at my destination at 9:30PM.  I begin to wonder if I will ever again arrive anywhere in daylight!

Planning trips

I'm on the road again this weekend.  This time I'll be taking a trip to San Diego, to visit my cousins.  I figure if I leave at 10AM I will miss most of the rush hour here and not hit the one in S.D.  I had to weigh the gas prices against not seeing the closest family members until probably next year.  I'll just have to suck up the expense.

My monthly gas bills have turned horrendous over the last year.  I don't think the IRS will keep pace with the inflation and I will be losing money at tax time as well as seeing it leaving my bank account on a monthly basis.  Using alternate means of transportation isn't feasible to do my job, and hybrids weren't out when I committed to my car lease, so I am out of luck.

I'm only planning a long weekend this time.  I also have started looking at what to do with a $134 credit I have on American Airlines.  At the rate the airlines are declaring bankruptcy, I perhaps had better hurry up and use it, not to mention the fact that it expires Dec. 4th.  I need to find a good price and take a trip.  I had really hoped to go to Boston, but don't think I can swing it financially unless I win the lottery or find a priceless antique at a local garage sale.  Depending on my good looks no longer is an option for any reason, sadly. 

Time to go finish packing.

The Sierras in Spring

Download sierras_with_red_flowers.doc

Here's a taste of my trip to the Sierras and Death Valley with my son.  I have to give him the credit--the photograph is his:  Christopher Epstein.

The treasures of the Huntington

I finally made it to the Huntington Library last Sunday.  Gorgeous, even after all the recent rains.  People were sitting or lying down all over the lawns, sitting on benches or strolling down paths under a blue sky and sun.  The Japanese garden looked exquisite, probably because its beauty didn't depend as much as, say the Rose garden on flowers to make it stand out.  The herb garden looked much as my own does at the moment--just beginning to come back to life. 

I went there to look at the Watercolors exhibition that will only be at the gallery until mid-month, I believe.  I love watercolors.  Perhaps its because they were the first paints I used as a child, and kept right on using while I still dabbled in art.  I have tried my hand at acrylics, which I enjoyed more than my attempts with oils, but somehow, the muted tones of the watercolors always appealed to me.  The collection at the Huntington made me remember the pleasure I felt in using them.  Perhaps the appeal lies in the fact that once the color has touched the paper, it's there to stay.  It can be muted, but never really covered over, unlike acrylics or oils.  My favorite artist has always been, and probably always will be Turner, but I found new artists to add to my list amongst the works on display.

Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to explore all the treasures, both artistic and botanical, in this lovely setting, but I will be back there soon, I guarantee it.