Isabella Bird Miscellany

Clear Lake with Mt. Konocti resting in the distance There’s something bohemian about putting a few things in a bag, tossing it in the car and taking off.  Oh, we had a destination in mind, but no set agenda, which is easier to do during the off-season.  We have been known to arrive somewhere only to find the accommodation pickin’s mighty slim and even nonexistent. Road trips used to be a vacationing necessity.  Travelling with small kids and a limited budget meant loading the car with the necessary survival paraphernalia – snacks, games, books, more snacks and games – it was before the life-saving invention of the DVD player.   Life changed, vacation meant destinations, airports and rental cars, tight schedules, heaps of sight-seeing and frayed nerves mixed with tremendous memories. Maybe it’s a nostalgic thing, but road trips now seem much more appealing, so we hit the road last week to parts formerly known – Lakeport, California.  This small town of just over 5,000 resid

Come ride with me! Our family was at Pike Place Market in Seattle a few weeks back.  Down on the waterfront there’s a 175 foot Ferris wheel that not only delivers an awesome view of the city, but it was designed to go over the water.  The adjacent building  houses a rococo carousel that whirls to tinkling music and bright lights.  Twizzling past in a flurry, faces were a blur of grins. “What goes up must come down.  Spinnin’ wheel got to go ‘round…” drums the 1969 Blood, Sweat and Tears song.  They were one of my picks, back in the day; still are now that I think about it.  The ode goes on to express that talking about your trouble is a sin, so you might as well ride that painted pony and let the wheel spin. Our days go up, down and spin around just like the tinted circus animals on the carousel.  The merry-go-round has a mechanism that winds it into motion.  The thing that triggers us is our passion. Passion is a burst of barely controllable emotion.  It’s a stron

No reservations Easter brunch

Isabella usually gets taken for an evening walk.  A few nights ago, we were doing the norm.  It was dusk; that dreamy not quite dark, in between time.  Nouns – people, places and things – were still visible, not just silhouettes.  Bell e was sniffing, we were chatting enjoying the stroll and the sweet night air. Sounds idyllic, but remember I live in the city; traffic and people and ball games happening.   There are a few country delights:  birds, squirrels, flowering trees and potagers’ gardens.  However, the sight that took place was quite curious. The typically busy street was quiet, which in and of itself was pleasant.  We could hear our own conversation and the night sounds; crickets, frogs and barking dogs in the distance.  What was unexpected was the squeaking chatter.  My first thought was that a nighthawk had grabbed a bite of dinner, but the noise lingered.  Looking around, there were three raccoons careening down the middle of the street. I'd like to take cre

Say cheese, grilled please

Some may say I’m a germaphobe, but actually, I just don’t like mud A number of years ago we lived in Australia and went on oodles of adventurous missions with our kids.  One such escapade found me waist deep in mud.  Not a good thing for someone who does not like muck.  This mire was not the nice kind like used in soothing facials or cleansing mud baths.  A big Scotty no!  It was bug-infested, algae-laden, brackish, wet decay-type of sludge-mud. germ.a.phobe :  Any person who is obsessed with cleanliness and defeating bacteria. These individuals will turn on faucets with their elbows and hand sanitize on an hourly basis.  -  Urban Dictionary Yanchep was the day’s destination.  There were kangaroos, koalas, caves, hiking trails and plenty of sites for having a picnic.  We decided to join one of the guided bushwalks.  The instructions included wearing clothes and shoes that you didn’t mind getting wet.  The tour of this bush area would involve some dampness on the trail.