Olvera Street "Dia de los muertos"

Olvera Street is located in downtown L.A.  Right across the very big street, Alameda, from Union Station.  Olvera Street is the oldest street in Los Angeles.  As a child my family would go the Olvera Street for special occasions.  We would look around then go over to Chinatown for Chinese food.  Hard to believe in my childhood the only place to get Chinese food was in Chinatown.  I guess I'm playing my age card on that one!

It has become a family tradition to go several times a year but especially go on Dia de los muertos, Day of the Dead or All Souls Day, November 1st (funny enough, my long gone mother's birthday).  My son is the one who began that tradition as he had a Spanish teacher who raved about it and thus another tradition is born.

In the Plaza people build alters and offer food and place photos and reminders in honor of those who have died.  It's been a wonderful opportunity for our family to discuss death and to honor our members of our family who have passed on.  It becomes a celebration of life not a downer.  We have a yummy meal (our favorite is La Luz Del Dia-the homemade tortillas are amazing) , buy some confetti eggs and then wait for the best moment to attack.

BTW to make a really great day of it, take the subway to the end-which is Union Station.  Walk through that wonderful station and then right across the street you have arrived...Olvera Street.  There's also an old fire house opposite the Plaza to add to the list.

http://www.olvera-street.com/

Halloween and Pumpkin Seeds

 Yummy Sauteed Pumpkin Seeds

Confession up front that I love Halloween.  I don't love the scary, creepy ghoul part; it's the kids, it's the dress-up, carve pumpkins, party and cook pumpkin seeds part.  For many years we did minimal Halloween with our son.  He's much like his mom in that he doesn't like to be scared and Halloween can be very scary for the wee ones.  Heck, life in it's normalcy can be scary, throw a little skeleton or two and eek, enough already.  Anyway, now that Connor is eleven he's starting to see the fun in it all.  Plus he knows unless there's a costume involved there will be no access to free candy.  I figure I have maybe a couple years before it's all done, at least with any involvement of moi.  So I will enjoy, perhaps for the last time, being the safety ghost, stopping traffic so all the kids can cross safely.  Knowing Connor will pass me a twizzler every now and then when he gets one.

Connor's Costume-the scariest yet!

My own mother loved Halloween too.  I'm sure that's how it's trickled down.  She used to make all my costumes and help with the make-up.  She, however, did not like me to go trick-or-treating so instead she would always host a party at our place.  Looking back I now know why.  We always lived in apartments in sunny Los Angeles.  In spite of the lovely nostalgia of the old days being so much safer.  Like anything in life, that is subjected to the viewer.  We didn't always live in the safest neighborhoods so in her infinite Mom wisdom (single mom wisdom) she kept me as safe as she knew how.  If we lived in the Leave it to Beaver world I'm sure it would have been a much different experience.  Yet, I don't feel the least bit jilted by it all. I have a wonderful memory of making a maze out of appliance boxes she collected.  All the kids had a blast going through the many twists and turns.

So in memory of my mom and to all moms and dads; enjoy the time while you can as it passes so quickly.  Know, we are all creating memories.

Oh, and here is a guaranteed successful recipe for those pumpkin seeds left on the carving table.

SAVORY SWEET PUMPKIN SEEDS
Rinse your seeds thoroughly-get as much slime off as possible ; )
Over Medium heat
In a saute pan melt a tablespoon of butter (I'm sure you could use something lower in fat but not me)
Add your seeds
Sprinkle garlic power, salt and if you like spice, a little cayenne
Constantly stirring as they cook you might hear a pop or two which is aokay, they start to plump up.
As they brown sprinkle about a tablespoon of sugar over the top.
Keep your stirring so you mix all the savory sweet together.
The whole process takes about 15 - 20 minutes.
Taste to make sure they are crunchy and cooked through.
Enjoy!
Happy Halloween, one and all.
Be safe!

Fishing and Camping in Lone Pine, California

Yes it's really that beautiful in Lone Pine.  It's off the 395 and I'm told on the way to Mammoth Lake.  Not being a skier I've not been to Mammoth but hear it's quite lovely too.  This was an unusual trip because it wasn't a big group just the family, the three of us.  I felt very responsible because I really pushed for this trip to happen and truth be told I love to fish more than the family but they do like nice scenery.  Also, I kept watching the weather and the weather report kept threatening thunderstorms.  I even telephoned the ranger station up at Mt. Whitney Portal to ask about the weather and rain.  He asked me if I've ever seen rain.  Quite frankly I don't think he was being flippant, it just sounds like that when I say it out loud.  Once I assured the Ranger that indeed I have seen rain I just wanted to know how much rain there may be, we got along just fine.  The weather usually moves through and doesn't linger.  Of course he couldn't commit to how it would be at our campsite.  So we committed and left Friday after picking Connor up from his 1/2 day of school.  BTW that's what started my wheels turning in my head.  Knowing he would have a half day on a Friday and this would be the last chance before it got too cold to camp.

This is the beautiful fishing hole by campsite #39 in Lone Pine.  #39 is a walk-up site which means you cannot reserve it by phone or internet.  In the past when there are a couple of families going someone gets there early to reserve the spot and hopes no one else has it.  We also get spot #40 and #41 as a back-up.  Those you can reserve through recreation.gov.  The sites are $17.00 a night. Another wonderful plus to this site is the bear locker.  It's bigger than all the other sites.

Ahh the bear locker.  Once I was tuned into this beautiful country I was also introduced to the bear locker.  A big pain in the tuchus at first but as I've learned to love this area I realize what a necessity.  It's my sleep aid knowing there's nothing for the big critters to get into and should they visit, hopefully they will just move along.  I always sleep better knowing my martini shaker is okay.  That being said I also sleep with an air horn in the tent and this trip we even brought inside a pan and hammer.  You see bears don't like loud noises.  So knowing I've done all I can outside the tent I do all I can inside.  Which means no food, toiletries or smelly goodies inside the tent.  That's all inside the bear locker.

The bear locker had even more significance as the first thing the camp host said to me was, "we've had a lot of bears so make sure you put everything away".  Not what I wanted to hear.  Thank goodness Connor was not with me.  I did whisper it to Barbara once back at camp.  I could tell it didn't sit well.  Then just as the sun set the camp host came and visited our site.  He's really a heck of a nice guy, Greg,  but he mentioned the information about the bears in front of Connor.  Thank goodness Greg then downplayed the ferocity of bears by showing Connor how goofy they walk.  Once he left.  Connor ate his dinner, sat by the fire and quickly excused himself to bed.  It was only 7pm but he said he felt safer in the tent.  So there sat Barbara and I enjoying the fire and trying not to let paranoia creep in.  Last log out and we too followed Connor's lead.  Needless to say we were closed up tighter than a gnat's arse.

Well rested we all woke very early the next day.  All in one piece and no bear snorts or growls.  Although there was a thunder shower in the middle of the night which I must say was quite wonderful to experience.  Instead of seeing the cloud you heard the cloud pass over head.  First gentle rain fell on the fly, then a little harder and then it was quite loud.  That lasted several minutes and then as it came it left in the same pattern.  There was absolute quiet and the sky lit up like a million flash bulbs. I counted and then the clap came at 5.  We had about 5 strikes but they were going further and further away.  As you know from previous posts, Connor sleeps through everything.

The best fishing is the early morning and late afternoon.  Although truth be told there were so many fish you could have pulled them out all day. Yet, they were only biting on worms, the fireballs didn't work as well.  By 8:30 in the a.m. we had caught about 6 fish and let the smaller ones go.  That was quite the reward.  If you would have told me 10 years ago that I would be a. loving to fish b. putting worms on a hook and c. cleaning fish, I would have told you fat chance as I'm not that earthy of a gal.  It's amazing what having a child will do with your priorities.  I do love to fish, the worm on a hook you get used to but I don't think I'll ever get used to cleaning fish.  For me, I believe it's important to clean what you catch to appreciate the life cycle but... to make it through the cleaning I kept thanking each fish before I started the deed. We are so far removed from the food source we forget where it once came.  Also, I've never caught so many fish that I've had to clean at once.  Of course, no help from the family they were looking out for bears : )

It started raining mid-day and even though I was protected by the canopy of trees by the stream I was starting to get wet.  So back up to the campsite where I found the family reading in the tent.  Sweet.  I grabbed a pack of playing cards and joined them.  They read their books and I played a little solitaire.  I realize not often do we just stop or slow down enough to be.  I hadn't played solitaire with real cards in a very long time.  We were safe and dry, listening to the weather.  Each stopping every now then to share a bit of the story or thought of the day.  It was the connection I craved and the craving was satiated.

We left the next day.  We had Trout Almondine in our tummies and some for home.  Memories of clouds passing at night, bears that never came and stories for our next campfire.

Tide Pools in San Pedro

Here in Los Angeles, when you take the 110 fwy south to the end you land in San Pedro.  Continue to the end of that street and it dead ends at Pt. Fermin Park.  It's quite a lovely little park with a historic light house to boot!  As you face the beautiful Pacific Ocean go to the right of the park and you will find the most wonderful tide pools to explore.  Connor and I went today and the sea was teeming with activity.  First off you must go during low tide or the trip's a bust.  You can find out tide info here: http://www.saltwatertides.com/

We saw an octopus!  Connor has quite the eagle eye and saw him/her dash under a rock.  Luckily it was a light rock and I was able to lift it so we could see it's beauty in action.

It's really quite a site to see so close and they are so fluid in their movement.  We also saw at least 15 Sea Hares.  A ocean critter we would have never known anything about if it weren't for the wonderful Heal the Bay Aquarium under the Santa Monica Pier - http://www.healthebay.org/smpa/about/

It was there that we learned they were in the Octopus family and it was there that they let us pet them with just two fingers so we wouldn't hurt them.  They are the softest things on the planet.  Although Connor thinks Scooter, his hamster is softer.

As you can see they kind of look like big slugs but I prefer the Sea Hare to a Sea Slug, and you?  

And yes, we used two fingers to pet them and they did not squirt any ink at us.  They eat kelp and there was plenty for them.

Lastly I have seen this old rusted engine and I think it is a work of art.  I wish I could bring it home.  

I don't know how long it has been there but the way time has taken care of it is shear beauty.  

Next time you have a few hours on your hands and it's low tide, treat yourself to this spot.  You won't be disappointed.

Anza Borrego Camping

The birds-eye view of our glorious and secluded campsite.  My wonderful, now gone, red tent.  Before I get ahead of myself I want to write of this particular camping adventure.  I also want to lament on how I have wanted to write other entries to the blog but alas I have begun working full time and I'm feeling the pinch of life and it's harness of responsibility.  I, like so many other folks on this planet, must learn how to juggle a little better, duck and weave to achieve.  So thanks for that little vent and on to the adventure of Anza Borrego.

I know I speak of many blessings but it's true.  One of those blessings is my dear dad friend Bret.  He has allowed me to adventure where I'm not so sure I would be able to do so on my own.  I knew I wanted to do something for this Spring break but not sure what.  When Bret suggested Anza Borrego and started sending me wonderful links...I said sign me up.  I was even ready to go where there were no toilets!!!!!  That's what working full time will do to you.  I just wanted to get away from the fluorescent lights.  Unfortunately, none of our partners could go so we tackled the adventure together, with our kids.
Now he's got a four-wheel drive and I do not but it is a SUV.  I left the trip  planning to him.  And boy oh boy did he plan.  This trip was to see the wildflowers and the cactus in bloom.  I was not disappointed.

There was rain the day before which made the temperature beyond perfect. Unfortunately though because there was weather there was wind.  This was the downer part of the adventure.  Of all my adventures, I must say this one was the most harrowing.  In spite of the absolutely glorious hike we had, the wind almost brought me down.  I lamented earlier of my red tent going bye-bye.  The wind got the best of us on our last night.  I awoke in the middle of the night to the loudest noise.  It was as if I was on a 200 ft. Schooner and the sails were made of plastic shopping bags.  I used my flashlight to look to see if perhaps something had come undone.  Bret saw the light was on and yelled to me from his tent to see if everything was okay.  We yelled back and forth.  I got out to hammer down the stakes that were slowly being pulled up and that is when I noticed my tent was breaking up.  I staked down through the tent and realize that I will have to have a proper burial for her in the a.m.  All seems well and I go back inside.  I must now disclose that Connor is sound asleep.  He has not woken to the flapping of the tent, the yelling of Bret and I nor the re-staking of the tent.  I get back in bed thinking I have resolved all but the Schooner is still so bloody loud I start thinking of the stories I read way back when of the women on the Prairie during the 1840's going mad from the non-stop wind.  I snap out of it to realize the biggest noise culprit is the rain flap which is acting like a kite in the wind.  Since I'm trashing this tent I search in my little bedside kit (a lifesaver and I must write about this later) and find some gardening shears.  I go out of the tent, again, and snip off the rain flap.

There is peace.  Still little rumbles but nothing like it has been.  Connor is still sleeping and my Schooner is out and my prairie woman is smiling.  I will sleep and I do.
The next day Bret and I are a little exhausted.  We must pack up and leave.  We have Easter the next day and want to be home for that.  I think how horrible the noise was but am proud that I am on the other side of it.  Like most of life; there is the bitter and the sweet.
While celebrating Easter the next day in the comfort of our homes a large earthquake struck not very far from where we were camping.  It doesn't make that wind look so bad.
http://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=638

Square Dancing

Last night at my son's school they had a dance.  It was really a dance presentation.  All of the different grades had a specific international dance to do.  For instance, the 4th grade did "Tinikling" a popular Philippine folk dance. The 6th grade did a "Bollywood" dance to represent India and the 5th graders (my son's grade) did "The Virginia Reel" a square dance to represent America.  It was truly a delightful event to watch as the different kids danced. It also was a wonderful snapshot in childhood to see how committed some were and others who clearly wished they could have been anywhere but there. The square dance also brought up lots of memories for me as I remember learning those same dances in P.E. on rainy days.  It was Junior High School, now known as Middle School.  We would get into our gym clothes and go upstairs to the gymnasium for our lessons.  We didn't do the dance with the boys, not sure what they were doing, we did the square dancing with girls only.  I remember lots of giggles and a very good work-out.  

I also remember LOVING school dances. I was the whacky girl that would ask the boys to dance just so I could dance.  Just being able to move.  Not caring one bit if anyone was watching or what anyone thought. To quote my son, "ah, good times, good times".

In the Village, We are All Parents

In the last post I wrote about our wonderful library.  I also mentioned the decadent food truck that sits parked outside the library after school.  As I said, "who knew chicken and cheese fries could taste so good". I'm writing though to share an interesting experience I had while waiting in line for those delectable fries.  One day last week, Connor took the books and DVD's to the library while I waited in line to indulge.  Once he would drop off the goods he would join me in line at the truck.  There were two high school boys in front of me and off to the side was another boy who was waiting for his food.  He clearly knew the young man working inside the truck as they were discussing some friends they knew.  The real shocker for me is how they were discussing the friends.  The young man inside the truck was dropping F bombs like I have never heard before in my life.  Now mind you I have been around.  Here's an example: "man f@#$, she f@#$ and f@#$ we had F@#$ car and she was f@#$ but I'm f@#$ and you cannot f@#$ believe f@#$".  Using the word as a noun, conjunction, verb and adjective.  The two boys in front of me kept glancing nervously in my direction because the f police needed to be called.  Once I got over my initial shock and amazement of this conversation I realized Connor would be coming back any minute and I just didn't want him to hear this.  So I spoke up and politely asked the young men to please watch the language as I have a young son and I just don't think it's cool for him to hear that.  Not only did the young men stop the conversation, they actually apologized to me.  They were then able to continue their conversation without a single f bomb.  The two high school boys in front of me watched the whole exchange with wonderment.  I realized the outcome could have come out differently but I feel I approached them with respect.  Would they speak like that in front of their parents?  Was it my right to correct them?  Let me say if this were my child I would hope another "grown-up" would do the same.  How do kid's learn what is appropriate?  Do we continue to turn a blind's eye to behavior that's not okay?  There is a part of me that was surprised I spoke up but there's a bigger part of me that feels it's more necessary than ever to help with the parenting of all our children.