Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Capistrano Beach: November in So Cal

I noted in an earlier post that I had pictures to prove what a lovely weekend I enjoyed with my wife over the Halloween weekend. Here's a few more of them:



The first picture is a view up the coast towards Dana Point. Doheny State Beach is in the foreground. Dana Point is a small town with a beautiful marina. The place is named for Richard Dana who wrote of California when there was no San Franscisco. Local ranchers used to throw cowhides over the cliffs to be picked up by boats bound for the East Coast shoe factories. Dana's book, Two Years Before the Mast, chronicles his adventures. Times change, the ocean, not so much.

At Doheny State Beach you can camp right on the beach's edge. (You can also rent bikes, including the family riders shown in a previous post.)











The second picture shows a pedestrian crossing Highway One from to our timeshare from the beach. The bluff in the background backed up against our patio. Rather than a beach view, we had a bluff view. We smelled the sage, watched birds coast along on the updrafts, and contemplated the shifting light as it climbed the cliff in the afternoon.











The water is a bit chilly: mid-50's -- wet suit weather for serious surfers. This is a lifeguard station, abandoned during the fall and winter... but come April... the summer season begins!

















The next-to-last shot for this post is a double-wide outhouse. Disabled access? I couldn't tell you.



















Californian's are funny (and patriotic). The final shot is a puppy-guard-dog. Grrr!!!!




Monday, November 2, 2009

Father and Son -- Cat Stevens

Back in the 70's I was a college student. I had a few favorite recording artists and Cat Stevens was one of them.

One of his songs that resonated with me was Father and Son. Now, revisiting the song and its powerful message, I find my self more closely linked to the father. (But I understand the son -- I've been that boy.)

For your listening pleasure:

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Halloween SoCal Getaway




Back in late June, I booked a few weekend getaways. The first one just ended. It was sweet.



My wife and I headed out Friday afternoon after boarding the dog. (Poor Heidi.)

The drive was a short one, a mere 30 miles to the south. Last year, we discovered that the less known beach communities between San Diego and Los Angeles are quite nice.



Capistrano Beach was our destination: two nights, three days. We stayed in a one bed-room timeshare just across Highway One from the Pacific Ocean. Our room faced the cliff, not the beach, but that was okay. It was quieter and free from the early morning sun.



We were unplugged, sort of. We didn't bring our laptop. We interacted... for days!

That was my plan. Quality time as a couple. Dinners in. Walks on the beach. Cribbage, gin rummy, and conversation. But the reality?

Just as planned! (And I have some pictures to prove it.)

What may amaze those of you unfamiliar with Southern California is how nice the weather is. We had plenty of sunshine and mid-70s. You'll see jacketless people on bikes! Runners in running shorts! On the drive home we took PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). At Laguna's main beach there were sand volleyball games in progress. Drivers had their convertibles open.



The resort we stayed at averages 100% occupancy: year-round.

We missed the Trick-or-Treaters. Oh well. My youngest "child" is 23. The grandkids live in Illinois. What were my options? Stay-at-home and hand out candy to several dozen kids or schedule a week-end Halloween SoCal Getaway?



You know what I did! (And Thanksgiving is just around the corner!)

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

A thank-you poem

A pair of co-workers prepared a picnic-basket dinner for my family tonight. It was beyond lovely and beyond delicious. Was it only a dinner? No, it was a love feast. So I penned this poem of thanks for T & M --



A Love Feast

“We appreciate you.”
That’s what the card said.

A picnic-basket dinner:
enchiladas, beer, avocados,

beans, salad, sour cream,
and don’t forget dessert:
brownies with chocolate chips.

“We appreciate you.”
That’s what the card said.

Beneath the card,
Mixed, chopped, and stirred
was a feast of love.

Conceived in care.
Prepared with affection.
Delivered simply.

We ate.
We enjoyed.
And when no one was looking…

I cried.
Remembering…

A decade earlier,
There was another dinner,
For a family with a dying mom.

Conceived in care.
Prepared with affection.
Delivered simply.

When words fail.
Food speaks.
The secret ingredient?
Love.

When words fail.
Food speaks:
Volumes.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

If we weren't all crazy...

... we'd all go insane.

This line from a Jimmy Buffet song could serve as background music to the wackiness that seemed to invade my campus/work place this week. (And is wasn't just me.)




"Senior moments" occur in elementary students.

A lack of preparedness bordering on hilarious happens even to professionals.

Seasoned meeting coordinators go on the blink.

Craziness happens. Sometimes it happens a lot.

Sometimes it happens to others. Sometimes to me.



Regardless of who it happens to, it's funny. I'm willing to laugh at myself when I'm the victim, but I enjoy it more when it's somebody else. (Others seem to enjoy it more when it's me.)

I can't say that I blame them. It's especially funny when somebody who is generally capable slightly stumbles.

If you don't laugh, you could end up crying.

If you don't bend, you could end up breaking.

If you you're not willing to admit you're a bit crazy...



...you could end up a bit insane.

Sometimes others are funny. Sometimes, funny lives in the mirror. (At least I find it in my mirror!)

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Honor the urge!

Inertia is a bitch.

"Newton's First Law of Motion states that a body at rest will remain at rest unless an outside force acts on it, and a body in motion at a constant velocity will remain in motion in a straight line unless acted upon by an outside force."

Too often, I'm a body at rest. Oh, I may get up in the morning and be consistently active. I work for a living. I do stuff. But in certain areas, I find myself halted, stopped, without momentum.

But then... sometimes... I get a slight urge.

I have learned to honor that urge. That urge is the "outside force" that can change inertia into momentum.

I'm an expert of sorts in the area of bowel movements. Yes, you heard me. During my first wife's bout with cancer, I researched many health topics including recovering the health of your colon. I learned that a rule of thumb regarding bowel movements is "One meal in: one meal out." Most Americans are at least slightly constipated. One contributor? We often suppress the urge instead of honoring the urge. As a result, bowel movements can slow down and almost stop.

"But Don, I had no idea that's the urge your were talking about!"

"I wasn't, but they are all connected! I was talking about urges... little internal prompts that move us from inactive to active, from inertia to momentum. It may be physical, but it's also emotional... and motivational."

On Friday I was ready to leave school soon after three when the bell rang... but I got an urge. I honored the urge and began to clean up my desk. Piles began to disappear, and before I knew it... it was 5:15. I was late for dinner.

So I called home, discussed the situation with my wife, and stayed at work another two hours. I got a tremendous amount of work done. I was on a roll for four hours. It was sweet.

On Saturday, the urge continued. In addition to helping with some laundry, I vacuumed the living room and hall... but then... I had an urge... to spot clean the carpet! I got a pan of water, some rug cleaner, and a scrub brush. 45 minutes later, I was a sweaty mess, and the entire living room and hall had been hand scrubbed.

Woo-hoo! (That little urge generated some momentum.)

It's been a warm weekend: low 90's so I retreated to my air conditioned computer room after my rug-cleaning workout.

My desk was a mess (of sorts). A one inch pile of assorted paperwork crusted my desktop: a testament to week or so of evening inertia. But with the cool of the AC came an urge to stay in that room and get something done.

I started with my file cabinet which is tucked into a corer of my closet. I thinned two drawers of files creating two small loads of trash. I created new files. I viewed history I'd forgotten.

Now I was on a roll... I cleaned out my desk drawer: the land of paid bills. The hidden stack was now under attack. Like an archaeologist on a dig, I brushed away the debris of paid bills no longer needed. The three inch stack was cut in half.

Finally, I attacked the top of the desk. It was a breeze. Momentum was on my side. Music filled the room as it had for the two or three hours of during this AC-aided endeavor. I was happy.

Why?

Because I've learned to honor the urge!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Splat

Funny things happen, and I laugh a lot.

Sitting at the table in the faculty lounge, I had just finished my lunch. I waded up the paper towel which had functioned as my napkin, and I eyed the trash can. Claudia was munching on an orange in the next seat.




"Claudia, do you think I can make this shot?"

"Sure, give it a try."

The shot required that I loft the towel over Claudia's head into the awaiting trash can. We were both seated. I measured the shot. I visualized the wad swishing into the wide open "basket." I lofted my shot...

...and I missed off the front rim.

"Think I can make mine?" Claudia asked. She had a waded up paper towel as well.

"Sure, go for it," I encouraged her.



She launched her four foot attempt from her seated position. She pushed it long, hoping for a bank shot. Every thing was looking good, until...

Splat. Her paper towel hit the wall behind the trash can and exploded, spewing out the orange peelings hidden in its interior.

Nothing bounced off the wall. Paper towel and all splashed off the wall, behind and beside the trash can, on to the floor.



Laughing, we both got up and cleaned up the mess.

Where ever I go, I have fun. Even in the teachers' lounge at lunch.