raincation

it's dreary, but beautiful. the house is a little run down but it's huge and the location is perfect. i'm sitting on the front porch right now, looking out at the ocean at falmouth heights beach. best spot in the house. everyone is still sleeping but nino woke early, so here i am enjoying the quiet and my little boy.

we're at almost full capacity. derek and heather arrive next, tonight, and susan will be here thursday morning.

problem is, the weather sucks but we did get to the beach on saturday and it was lovely. i love cape cod.

capeward bound

vacay starts in two hours. husband and kids will arrive at the chronicle with all of the luggage i painstakingly packed over the past three days. adopted twenty-something daughter will drive us to the airport.

and the adventure begins!

ativan and a cocktail for mommy. cough syrup with codeine for the children. really hope i don't have to use it, but it's there just in case. it's nice to have a kid-friendly sedative in the arsenal. could end up being the smartest thing i packed.

we got picture books, coloring books, chapter books, invisible ink books, a mr. potato head magnetic storyboard thing, crayons, and bunches of miniature trucks and toys from the bins at jeffrey's toys on market. then there are snacks. we've got nectarines, rice cakes, trail mix (i made it myself, yeah, i know, big culinary achievement), animal crackers, peanut butter crackers, wheat thins, all manner of dried fruit.

i went through my hand-me-down bins and located some summery clothes from friends who live in places that have actual summers. i then supplemented that with new bathing suits, sandals, hats and a pretty frock or two for ms. parker.

but here's the kicker -- the extended forecast for the first five days we'll be in falmouth is for rain, rain, rain & wind, rain with thunder & lighting, then back to just plain rain.

straight into the bosom of my family for 12 days in a six-bedroom house on the beach in cape cod.

in the rain...

i haven't been anywhere in so long, i'll gladly travel across the country with an almost two-year-old and his four-year-old sister to dip my feet in a different ocean, eat lobster and fried clams, catch up on my reading, and sail out to martha's vineyard in the rain.

can't wait.

unfriendly

i've been un-friended! on facebook! ha!!!

by someone i've known for 23 years. someone i've taken into my home — not once over the years — but twice. by a delusional narcissist that i've endured and supported through countless relationships, drug addictions, roommates, job/unemployment situations, bizarre self-delusions, and emotional traumas.

by the same person who i recently broke up with because she betrayed, slandered me, and criticized my parenting decisions (she, who has no children). oh, and did i mention, she pirated my entire address book while living with me to use for her promotional purposes? (she thinks i don't know that). can you say frenemy?

i'm back in seventh grade. but with better technology!

it's not exactly unfathomable. she's still friends with everyone she "collected" from me. i think reading my happy-go-lucky fb updates and banter with the other mutual friend she deleted infuriated her.

i'll get over it. it won't be the first time.

anybody else break up with a long-term friend and live to tell about it?

panisse envy*

finally did it.

i've lived in no. cal for 19 years this month. i'm a food and travel writer. berkeley is only 15 minutes away. but prior to last tuesday, i'd never dined at chez panisse.

i've long had an issue with alice waters. perhaps that's what's kept me at bay. she gets far too much credit for eating the way europeans have eaten for, like, ever. it annoys me. she annoys me.

when i lived in france, jeanette, the woman i lived with, took her little canvas bags to the outdoor market daily, bought was was good/fresh/in season and a crusty baguette or two, and that's what made it a table. not revolutionary, my friends. pretty basic. logical, even. so, why does this broad alice continue to get heaped with praise, awards, accolades and worship for laying claim to what's been going on forever in places outside mid-century american suburia? she hung out with the obamas at the white house, fer crissakes!

now that i got that little rant off my chest, i can say without hesitation, that chez panisse rocks! totes.

i've read so much about the importance alice puts on the correct way to wash and dress greens that i had to start with a simple "garden lettuce salad." while it was in no way mindblowing, it was perfectly simple and simply perfect. there was a respect awarded those greens. they didn't need goat cheese or figs or even a perfectly ripe heirloom tomato. they were just themselves, doing their thing with a perfectly restrained amount of oil and a hint of lemon. they were fresh, textural, alive. no dressing pooled beneath them. they had dignity.

on to the main course -- the "nortern halibut with chevril, spring vegetables and meyer lemon butter sauce" was otherwordly. why can't i make a piece of fish taste like that? i'd eat it every f'n day. once again, restraint was key -- as in not a heap of vegetables or a pile of pureed potatoes beneath -- just tender little sprigs of asparagus and peas bathed in Meyer lemon butter. perfectly cooked, perfectly executed.

dessert -- bittersweet chocolate pave with Earl Grey cream and a Brooks cherry tart with vanilla ice cream -- was shared among the table of six, so i only had a few ethereal bites.

ok alice waters, i know you haven't been losing sleep trying to win me over, but regardless, you did. chez panisse is everything i've heard it would be. but the hero worship and revolutionary status, i'm still not buying it.

i'll reserve that for antoine et jeanette my french "parents," who were eating and living that way before AW could say "organic, sustainable, home-schooled carrots."

*thanks marlowe, too good not to steal...

long weekend letdown

my cousin julie and i would often talk on the phone on sunday nights when we were kids -- mine a beige push button, hers, a light blue rotary. we would describe how miserable we were to be going back to school the next day -- in varying shades of blue.

"jules, i'm soooo indigo tonight!"

"i know, lis, me too. actually, i'm totally cobalt."

we referred to it as "sunday night depression."

long weekends make SND even more poignant, though technically it would be MND. after this long weekend with its interminable fog, brutal arctic winds, and a computer glitch that deleted my post on chateau tivoli when i was just about to hit "publish," i should be seriously navy.

but, i WON the freakin' contest!!

last week i submitted this blog post entry to win a spa getaway for me and three of my most deserving BFFs. and i found out a couple of days ago that the judges from uptake and silverado resort selected mine! sweeeeet!

we're going to napa to lounge around the pool, drink lots, get free spa treatments, read cheesy magazine, and just hang....

it's even sweeter because we've been trying to make this girls' weekend happen for so long, now we just need to show up to our fireplace suite here.

and we do all so righteously deserve it.

***

i totally want to do something to preserve parker as she is right now. i tell her all the time i don't want her to grow up, that i'm calling the hall of records to backdate her so she won't get any older.

she is, without a doubt, the biggest fan i will ever have. she simply adores me. that's not to say she's never a brat or a pain-in-the ass, but she constantly tells me how much she loves me, that i'm pretty, that i'm "too sweet," the best mommy ever, she loves my outfit, my hair, and on and on.

she wants me to snuggle with her every night and is competitive with my friends.

you always hang out with (fill in the blank, but usually heather). i want to go on a powerwalk/run/hike/to the movies/to a "yes"taurant/to a spa vacation — with you!!! not when i'm older, that will be too long!!

when it gets to be too much, like tonight at 10:00, and she hovering around me like an obsequious, pesky, little satellite and WILL NOT go to bed, i remind myself of how nice it is to have a sweet adorable companion who idolizes me.

i'm well aware that 13 will happen...

mid-life crises

ok, why i really need a spa retreat -- it 's less than three hours before deadline, i finally got both kids to bed after visiting my girlfriend who delivered a beautiful baby boy (lars mccall) just hours ago, writing and researching a blog post on sleep pods at san francisco international airport, delivering and collecting the baby to and from daycare, attending my four-year-old daughter's first ballet recital (cuteness freaking overdose), and getting through a post-performance dinner with my inlaws.

now, before i finish cleaning the house, i'm sitting down to write this.

but, this isn't about me. not totally.

uptake, the travel site i post to twice weekly, is running a contest with the silverado resort in napa. the prize is a spa girl package for four awarded to the blog post that best describes four women who deserve it.

let's face it, we all deserve a break. but i know of a few women in my crew who truly need one.

first, there's kelly, uber-driven career gal, director of marketing at a multinational software company. she maintains a travel schedule that would make a sane person's head spin. this year alone she's been to trade shows all over the united states as well as conferences in europe, china, singapore -- even north korea. she's barbie doll pretty (meant in the best possible way), and when she speaks, people don't just listen, they take notes.

last summer, kelly realized her marriage of more than a decade was over. she found herself filing for "dissoution of marriage" and forking over a large sum of cash to her ex, who split to another state to play house with his high school girlfriend.

pull up the lounge chair and get this lovely lady a cocktail!

angela is a mother of three (ages six to 11) and tireless education advocate -- she's been known to march on sacramento, raise boatloads of money for the public schools, and isn't afraid to tell arnold schwartzenegger how she really feels.

she shuttles her precious cargo to and from piano lessons, theater club, kumon, football, baseball and soccer. in her spare time she oversees home construction projects -- knocking out walls in her kitchen or digging out the foundation to add extra rooms. all of these projects are based on her original designs.

ang rarely has a moment to herself and can't remember the last time she left the house without thinking, packing, and screaming for three. a hawaiian lomi lomi massage? better than drugs.

tessa moved from her beloved bay area, leaving behind a great job and friends, to join her boyfriend/partner of 12 years in LA, where he was pursuing a career in "the industry."

three years later, he found himself in the midst of a mid-life crisis. so he dumped her. in a note.

remember when dudes just went out and bought themselves a spendy, foreign-built sports car? damn.

the months since have been teary, angry, and angst-ridden as she attempts to re-build her life at 4o.

this situation call for several bottles of veuve, a combo deep tissue and hot stone massage, a decent meal, and oh, throw in the damn tote bag.

as for me, i take care of my two children, ages four and one and work in the daily panic room also known as the the san francisco chronicle, where i am pleased to say i just survived my fourth round of layoff/buyouts. good times in the newspaper industry. woo-hoo.

my husband is a photographer who travels regularly, leaving me to do the daycare/preschool/work/shopping/cooking dance solo. i've only been away from my kids once, for a high school reunion, and man, am i ready!

bring it!

can't you just picture us ladies, cocktailing by the pool with our cheesy magazines and ipods, griping about our men (past and present), laughing hysterically, and enjoying precious moments of friendship that we've been promising ourselves and each other we will make happen year after crazy year.

ladies, it's time.

family free day at sfmoma

"i have always liked hot music. there's something wrong with any american who doesn't. but i never realized that it was influencing my work until one day i put on a favorite record and listened to it while i was looking at a painting i had just finished. then i got a funny feeling. if i looked, or if i listened, there was not shifting of attention. it seemed to amount to the same thing -- like twins, a kinship. after that, for a long time, i played records while i painted."
-- stuart davis, american modernist painter influenced by jazz music

sunday was dreary and grim in the city and had rained the day before. we needed to get the bits (and ourselves) out of the house. i was surfing around and found a listing for free family day at the san francisco museum of modern art.

we packed them up and off we went.

the theme was "jazz it up." we went up to a children's studio that i never knew existed on the third floor. we signed up for a tour of the permanent collection tailored for children, then followed the sound of jazz into a brightly lit studio.

two young dudes were playing jazz standards on an upright bass and an electric piano. long tables were set up in a semi-circle around the musicians and colored paper and pastels sat on top waiting for kids to pull up chairs and start creating. docents, including our friend and former tenant annelise, roamed around providing more paper and inspiration.

the idea was to close your eyes, listen to the music and draw what/how the music makes you feel.

parker took on the task with relish, producing several masterpieces. roman made a few scribbles, climbed on furniture, and stuffed himself full of raisins.

later, we went into the screening area for a reading of "the jazzy alphabet," written by sherry shahan and illustrated by mary thelen. a groovy family fave around the dion home...

D's on the drums,
down and dirty
"Dig it! Dig it!"
E eases into evening,
tweedlin' on a sweet reed...