Vacation, All I Ever Wanted
Another wonderful road trip with gothchick_marie: stunning scenery, the absolute BEST weather, a spicy pinot noir named "Poppy", and lots of blue jays. Oh, and Hearst Castle, lunch at Nepenthe, the magical oddness of Deetjen's (in whose restaurant I ate till I was sick--something you all know I do) and hours soaking sun with the breeze cooling us. I got tan and strawberry-blonde gothchick got even gingerier, with freckles to boot.
I am getting drowsy and buzzy just remembering. We slept a lot, as is our habit when we are together. I don't know why, but we both fall over asleep like cats periodically.
As we drove down the coast we saw lots of turkey vultures. Most of the gift shops carried a rack of little plush birds whose recorded songs (or screeches) could be played if you squeezed them correctly. Just like real birds! Turkey vultures are not represented in the plush bird rack however.
We were promised CONDORS (there was a teensy plush condor on the bird rack who had a grunty sort of burp as a song) since they are so numerous these days--off the endangered list and all--but we only saw turkey vultures and ravens and blue jays. Also scrub jays and some other birds, including a blue and gold macaw, a cockatoo and a robin which gothchick_marie dismissed with Germanic asperity: "That is no robin. Phh." and a regally chilly wave.
But there were no quails! I HATE it when there are no quails. They are the California State Bird, you see, and SO CUTE YOU COULD JUST COLLAPSE INTO A BLACK HOLE FROM THE CRUSHING GRAVITY OF THE MASS OF THEIR CUTENESS.
I hesitate to mention that we took billions of photos of the birds we did see since the subject of photos seems to arouse a certain querulous whiny tone in you. Don't deny it.
We also took photos of a fight in the parking lot at Deetjen's, some California poppies at a roadside inn, a line of ants attacking a chocolate bar SOMEONE (hint: not me) left on the dresser, views from Nepenthe, miles of breathtaking coastline which was so perfect that it looked faked, a small beach in Monterey lined with rows of molting elephant seals basking inelegantly. The song of the elephant seal is another grunty burp, but much louder than the plush condor's song.
The goth one had a scheme to lure raccoons INTO OUR ROOM (she has no idea how quickly the charm vanishes when you are faced with one) using stale focaccia the ants somehow missed, but instead we managed to tempt a very pretty jay to our window sill to the amusement of our neighbors whose terrace was just outside our window. They were nice neighbors who listened quietly as gothchick read aloud while I knitted (Deetjen's is that sort of friendly place).
There is a baby expected to arrive in the Gothchick family in the 2nd week of May, so little knitted booties are appearing everywhere and much of our trip was spent in the baby clothes aisles of...well, everywhere that had baby clothes from Carmel to Chinatown.
AND...and...and a tattoo was gotten. I shall say no more! Zip! Quiet as the tomb am I. A chatty sort of tomb, true, but still quietish as these things go.
Shhh.
I am getting drowsy and buzzy just remembering. We slept a lot, as is our habit when we are together. I don't know why, but we both fall over asleep like cats periodically.
As we drove down the coast we saw lots of turkey vultures. Most of the gift shops carried a rack of little plush birds whose recorded songs (or screeches) could be played if you squeezed them correctly. Just like real birds! Turkey vultures are not represented in the plush bird rack however.
We were promised CONDORS (there was a teensy plush condor on the bird rack who had a grunty sort of burp as a song) since they are so numerous these days--off the endangered list and all--but we only saw turkey vultures and ravens and blue jays. Also scrub jays and some other birds, including a blue and gold macaw, a cockatoo and a robin which gothchick_marie dismissed with Germanic asperity: "That is no robin. Phh." and a regally chilly wave.
But there were no quails! I HATE it when there are no quails. They are the California State Bird, you see, and SO CUTE YOU COULD JUST COLLAPSE INTO A BLACK HOLE FROM THE CRUSHING GRAVITY OF THE MASS OF THEIR CUTENESS.
I hesitate to mention that we took billions of photos of the birds we did see since the subject of photos seems to arouse a certain querulous whiny tone in you. Don't deny it.
We also took photos of a fight in the parking lot at Deetjen's, some California poppies at a roadside inn, a line of ants attacking a chocolate bar SOMEONE (hint: not me) left on the dresser, views from Nepenthe, miles of breathtaking coastline which was so perfect that it looked faked, a small beach in Monterey lined with rows of molting elephant seals basking inelegantly. The song of the elephant seal is another grunty burp, but much louder than the plush condor's song.
The goth one had a scheme to lure raccoons INTO OUR ROOM (she has no idea how quickly the charm vanishes when you are faced with one) using stale focaccia the ants somehow missed, but instead we managed to tempt a very pretty jay to our window sill to the amusement of our neighbors whose terrace was just outside our window. They were nice neighbors who listened quietly as gothchick read aloud while I knitted (Deetjen's is that sort of friendly place).
There is a baby expected to arrive in the Gothchick family in the 2nd week of May, so little knitted booties are appearing everywhere and much of our trip was spent in the baby clothes aisles of...well, everywhere that had baby clothes from Carmel to Chinatown.
AND...and...and a tattoo was gotten. I shall say no more! Zip! Quiet as the tomb am I. A chatty sort of tomb, true, but still quietish as these things go.
Shhh.