Laying low in Jamestown

It's the time of year when summer is wearing thin, when the daily heat and dry conditions are no longer interesting. Admittedly, the highs are dropping from 100 plus to the high 90's. Doesn't feel a lot different. The soils are as hard as concrete, the vegetation is crispy dry, except for the poison oak, 20 feet high everywhere I need to dig a pit. Tiresome. Work is tiresome and I am a lot more than "some" tired. The skies are blue. Always blue, with a slight brown tinge that reminds me how close I live to the Central Valley. On weekends I am doing small things. I have been knitting a lot more again, since it's too hot to do anything outside. Having fun playing with my yarn stash, packaging it all up into color bands for working up a fun project called the "shawl of many colors". Organizing all my needles into sizes, amazing how many I have.

Walking around outside for a bit in the mornings, checking the plants, removing crispy leaves from the hostas that are as tired of the hot summer as I am. I talked to the hostas this morning, whispered secrets to them. "Soon, soon, I promise. Next spring while you are sleeping I will pack your big urns into my truck and take you home, and when you wake up you will see a cool forest, big trees, shade. I promise". I think they heard me.

I was also thinking about my home in Klamath this morning. The whole story of my life in Klamath and that little house on Painter Street was so magical, moving to Klamath and buying and living in that home was my first real experience of "flow". I have been saddened to see all this magic reduced to mediocrity by the crashing market, having to sell the house when things were down, all to eliminate possible capital gains taxes and to quit dealing with renters coming and going.

I stood in my living room last month, after making my floors all shiny and pretty again, and wondered about all of it. The light coming in those windows is wonderful. There is something wonderful about that little home, and I knew that there was a family somewhere, or someone somewhere who would walk in that door and feel the warmth and delight and safety that I felt there the first time I opened it. But lately, what has felt like a huge burden is shifting into a feeling of hope, not yet real, but at least hope.

My reasons

Seven reasons why I won't vote for Sen. McCain in 2008

1. His foreign policy is beligerant and will continue to add mega-billions to the national debt through continued wars that are useless expenditures of money and lives.

2. McCain endorses economic policies that are destroying the middleclass, causing jobs to go overseas, and endangering the future of our offspring for decades to come. I don't believe that someone making millions is middle-class. I am middle-class.

3. McCain is America's "Number One Neocon" with direct ties to Bill Kristol's rightwing extremist oganization, Project for a New American Century (PNAC), I am not a raging liberal, but I detest the Neocon movement. I am pro-choice and while I don't think president's should be elected based on that particular ideal, I fear most the radical right wing Supreme Court justices that will be appointed during his reign. Oh, he's not a king, I forgot.

4. I have read long lists of repeated flip-flops in his voting record and his statements that go back a long way. He is changing all his stances based on his desire to appeal to the right wing movement and get elected. His maverick ways and attempts to work across the aisle are completely evaporating as he gets closer to the election.

5. He promised in February not run a negative campaign. Then, five months later, rather than discuss important issues like high energy prices and rising unemployment, McCain's advisors unleashed a scurrilous, Karl Rove-inspired attack on Barack Obama's character , such as calling him "arrogant" -- a substitute for "uppity" with racial overtones. Both candidates are getting more and more negative, so this one is a stand-off.

6. I have read several accounts from other POW's and military personnel that indicates that McCain is distoring his POW record and exploiting it for political gain. I don't believe being a POW is any particular skill needed to be President.

7. My biggest reason is my belief that if McCain wins in November, the neocons in Washington will increase their power, Bush's incompetent cronies will remain in office, our nation will become more divided, U.S. armed forces will attack Iran, and the Supreme Court will become completely corrupted by extreme right wing conservatives who will take away any rights I once thought I had.

I am saddened that at the early stages of this campaign I felt that there was hope for the future of my country, that we would become again a moral world leader and inspiration, that our economy would prosper, that maybe things would be different. Now it seems that it all is politics as usual, with both candidates doing whatever they need to do and say to try to appeal to the voters they are shooting for in order to win. No matter what kinds of ideals these politicians begin with, they end up prostituting themselves for power. Both of them.

I will no doubt vote Democrat, because of the reasons that I don't want to vote for McCain, but the whole thing just leaves a really bad taste in my mouth on this early Saturday morning.

Christian The Lion - Reunited - From

This made me cry. A true love story

Getting lost on google maps

This morning has been quiet, I am packing and cleaning and such, and decided to check out my google map. Time went by and before long I had found google street views of houses that I lived in long ago. It was fun making the map that you see in the post below this one. For my kids, you might like to check this out, because it's the chronological record of where we were when. I'll send an email to the family list for those who never get around to reading this blog.

Places I have lived

View Larger Map

Yarn stories

Knitters may laugh at this photo, but somehow I just have to talk about this so that I remember my lessons. I have actually cried over this yarn, actually thrown the ball and needles across the room, but then stubbornly picked it up again.


It all started with a hair cut. In Sonora, the yarn shop is just a few doors down from the salon I frequent, so of course, I have to stop in and oggle and feel all the soft yarns. Seems as though these very fine sock yarns, called "fingering wool" are pretty popular right now with the yarn crowd, and there are lots of pretty socks in baskets to tempt me. Now I have made one pair of socks, with worsted weight wool, successfully. On Number 5 needles if I remember right, or some such big kind of thing. Yeah, sure, I can do number 2's. why not. Hmmm. I learned why not. My fingers can do lots of things, I play the piano, texture soils and type fast. On a side note, I just learned that those of us who have textured soils with our right thumb and forefinger have lost most of our fingerprints there. But anyway, fine detailed dexterity isn't on that list of things that I do well. Tiny screws and such make me crazy. Think I should have known, right?

Well, instead, I bought some fancy #2 double pointed needles and a skein of very expensive, very beautiful fingering weight sock yarn. Gee, maybe I can make a dozen or so pairs for Christmas presents. NOT! I think I spent a week or so trying to actually cast on 64 stitches on the double pointed needles before I finally managed to begin a round. After another week, some dropped stitches, and actually crying when I ripped it all out for the 40th time, I put it on the shelf. Another week passed and I took the whole mess to my camping trip and tried again, once more to rip it all out. I cried again. geez. Nothing like some skinny yarn and #2 needles to mess up my life. Maybe I should just knit big shawls and washcloths. Somewhere in this process I knitted up a very nice washcloth to feel better about myself.

I finally decided that I could possibly try using circular needles. Bought 2 of them, at something like $13 each, and proceeded to find a video on the internet of just how to knit in the round for socks on 2 circular needles. Tried again. These socks are getting pretty expensive, and fairly precious. But I am beginning to see from all this that I am nothing else if not stubborn. So, once again, I attempt to actually cast on 64 stitches, hook them up, and start knitting in the round for a rib knit. Knit 2 purl 2 knit 2 purl 2. Uhoh. I have 63 stitches instead of 64. crap. rip it out. Only this time I didn't cry, I actually started laughing and started casting on again. I am not sure just how many times I did this, but I notice I am getting just a bit better at handling that finger weight yarn, and finally, finally, on a Saturday afternoon when I should be doing lots of other things, here is the proof that if I keep on keepin on, eventually I will get somewhere.

It's ribbing. It's tiny. It is the beginning of a real sock. Do you suppose I will have one pair by Christmas? Maybe if I give them to Mo I can wear them myself sometimes. No one else will get fingering weight fancy wool socks, at least not before I am retired.

Medicine Lake Weekend

I’m back in Jamestown today, after a very fast weekend camping at Medicine Lake. Seems a bit silly, I guess, to drive 380 miles each way for 2 nights of camping, but I somehow hoped that I could get a break from heat and smoke. I at least got out of the heat, but not the smoke. The drive north was mind boggling. It’s amazing to drive hundreds of miles through smoke that is as thick as the famous pea soup tule fogs of winter. Well, maybe not that bad, really, I didn’t have to hang my head out the open car door to see the white line, but the visibility was down to ¼ mile in lots of areas, and never more than a mile or so at best. All the way up I-5, from Stockton to Mt Shasta and beyond.

The fires have dissipated somewhat, and yesterday as I was driving home there was a big Delta breeze cleaning out the valley. It was also an incredible experience, driving through the Sacramento and San Joaquin Valleys on I-5 with crystal clear views of the western coast range. Truly lovely, as long as I didn’t look east. The Sierras were covered by a thick dark gray blanket of smoke. Like a big wall against the sky, and yet I was in a valley more clear than I have seen it almost since I lived here. Found out when I got home that the smoke was from a huge fire that blew up just south of me here on the Tuolumne-Mariposa county line, on the Merced River canyon. What started as a 150 acre vegetation fire caused by someone target shooting blew up almost overnight and now it’s 26,000 acres and zero percent contained. The smoke in Sonora and Jamestown is again barely tolerable. Inside with the air conditioning going again is the only survival mechanism.

But for one full day, with two half days on either end, I got to sit and look out over a sweet little lake. I had bbq’d steaks and salmon, potatoes O’Brien cooked over the campfire for breakfast, quiet times watching the twilight come slowly, even though the stars never really materialized because of the smoke. It was a first for Medicine Lake. Every other time we have been there, 3 previous times actually, the air has been crystalline, pure, and often cold. We found the perfect camping spot, one more time on the lake, in the perfect campground with stone fire pits and unobstructed views of the water.

Was it worth it? It was windy a lot this time, so time in my boat was also limited, but precious. Perfectly clear water, where I could see 30 feet down to the lava rocks on the bottom. The lake was down a bit, fed by snow melt and springs, and yet lower than I have seen it before. But yes, it was worth it. Time with Mo, time where work problems aren’t foremost in my thoughts, time to knit a bit and read a bit and walk a bit and boat a bit. Time for all that easy nothing kind of conversation that friends have when things are simple. It was worth it.

I am having such a hard time lately, harder than it’s been for awhile, with working and waiting and feeling as though time is crawling along even though it’s going fast overall, sometimes the everyday stuff just seems so tedious. The hot smoky weather here makes working outside barely tolerable, actually not tolerable at all, and I am having an incredibly hard time staying focused and doing what I need to do when it comes to mapping. Employee issues surely don’t help, and hopefully those will be resolved before long as well. Big sigh there. It’s wearing me out.

In the mean time…well, that’s a book, isn’t it?! I have it somewhere on the bookshelves, “In the Mean Time”. The lesson being that we need to do something ‘in the mean time’ while we are waiting for that time to come. Deb gives me lectures on “the secret” thinking positively to attract what I want. Deanna reminds me of “affirmations” to think positively about what I want. For the moment, I am in the mean time, however, and am having a bit of a hard time reminding myself of all those spiritual lessons that I once seemed to know really. Appreciate the moment, live in the now, use the gratitude journal. I’m working on it, in the mean time, I’m feeling frustrated with having to be here, having to keep living in this place, doing work that my body is tired of doing, and my mind is overloaded and burned out doing.

So, instead, I get though the days, and drive nearly 800 miles on a 3 day weekend to feel human, and breathe some mountain air, and drive on roads that don’t have bumper to bumper cars all in a huge angry rush. It was amazing driving 33 miles on a paved road from HWY 89 to the lake and only seeing two other cars. Blessed empty roads, one of my favorite things, and something that eludes me totally here in this part of California.

So, now, back to work today, and tomorrow, and another few days, and then I’ll be leaving for a 10 day vacation to Spokane with Mo. So, in the mean time, I am going to pay attention to the present moment, work, write, and live my day to day life with as much presence as I can muster.

Fourth of July

Fourth of July. I don't consider myself a particularly patriotic person in the general sense of the word. I love my country, more for it's landscapes and variety than anything else. I don't fly the American flag because it's use has been usurped by the hard right wing, sadly I think. I don't want to proclaim my love for wars and guns by flying it. Although I can remember in 6th grade and 12 years old, standing with my hand over my heart and crying when they played the Star Spangled Banner every day at my school.

But I love the Fourth of July. It somehow represents all the good things about growing up in the 50's in suburban LA. Yes, there were good things. A long hot sunny day at Santa Anita County Park in Arcadia, with a 6am arrival for biscuits that Dorothy made for the church picnic, long swims in the "plunge", bbq's and games, potato salad and watermelon, all capped off by the smoky sulphur smell and excitement of the fireworks. The hours before the show were full of anticipation as everyone spread out their blankets and lit their own fireworks, with sparklers and fountains and of course, firecrackers, which were always scary.

So, for whatever reason, I always try to recreate that feeling on this holiday, not for patriotic reasons, but to step back to a simpler time in my life, or at least a time that appears simpler from a distance. It was simple on this one day, and lovely. This year I had the same simple lovely day. My kids have learned that even though I make noises about, "Oh I am fine, you have a good weekend, sorry we can't get togeher"...if I am alone on the 4th, I whine, and feel really sad. Deanna knew this, and as Mo and I were settling in on Thursday evening after I arrived, she suddenly appeared at the door, 350 miles without a warning. I am soo glad we weren't camping at Lake of the Woods and we originally planned. Deborah arrived the next afternoon, and Sally and Savannah came over as well to share in the fun. We kayaked on the warm clear waters of the local quarry, ate lots of potato salad and watermelon, Mo made peach waffles for breakfast, and we sat around the porch table in the evening mixing bug spray and shots and laughing ourselves silly.

The fireworks show in Klamath was wonderful, orchestrated perfectly, not too much, not too little, and the crowds were just enough to feel full of energy and fun but not unmanageable. On Saturday we planned a do-nothing day of relaxation which turned into a marathon wood splitting and stacking day that was a ton of fun, or maybe 2 tons, but at least 2 cords anyway. Sunday we headed back to the quarry with the kayaks after Deanna left and Sal and Savannah joined us again for lazy cool clear sunny skies and perfect water.

On this day, once again, I felt that perfect thing that reminds me that life can be really really good.

NASA website

http://www.nasa.gov/topics/earth/features/fire_and_smoke.html

Funny, I keep thinking about writing something about my wonderful weekend over the 4th, but instead, back home in California, the smoke sucks out all my breath and dominates everything. This web site is amazing, with NASA images of the fires as they are happening. Seems as though NASA is helping out the state of california and the forest service with thermal imaging. If you look at the photos, you will see lots of cool 3d kinds of imagery that we are now using for soil survey.

Soil survey went through a huge period of change back in the 40's with the advent of readily available aerial photography, somewhat because of WWII. Instead of a plane table and surveying tools from the past, soil scientists used stereo pairs of black and white photos to view the landscape in 3d and draw soil boundaries. Now we use GIS, and the technology is exploding and the changes are exponential. It's an interesting period to be a mapping soil scientist, for sure, if you can handle rapid change. Some soils scientists are having trouble, others never had the opportunity to do it the old way so don't have a clue about the limitations of technology when it comes to the real world. But either way, the technology is incredibly cool, or in this case with the fires, hot.

Fires

My home is just north of the fire shown on the lower right in the Sierra Nevada Foothills

Smoky Saturdays

Ahh, Melody, I can hear you already. Oh for pete's sake, Mother, whole wheat pasta! She hated the tofu and falafel years, and especially the whole wheat macaroni and cheese.. But today I went to the farmer's market and amidst the berries and peaches and tomatoes I found these amazing fennel bulbs. It's hot and smokey outside, a good day for cutting up produce for the week and cooking things that will keep me eating well while the working hours get long. I made some addictive quinoa salad that has a ton of fresh ginger, cilantro and garlic, with a thai chili and lime kind of dressing. It's great cold for lunch in the field, but I am probably the only one thinks it's addictive. For me, ever since going to thailand, put cilantro, lime, ginger and hot chili in something, and I'm hooked. Those flavors just get to me.
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But back to the fennel bulbs. I don't think I have ever actually cooked fennel. I love the smell of it, and I use fennel seed in my spaghetti sauce, a secret of Italian cooking that I read somewhere, but the bulbs were so pretty I had to buy a couple. Searching the internet yielded several recipes for braised fennel, but nothing looked like a summer dish so I just went for it. Sliced it up, sauteed some garlic in a really great olive oil and added the fennel. Put in some veggie broth from a can to braise it for 20 minutes or so, and hmmmm. It looked a bit boring. Ahah. Box in the cupboard. What if I added pasta, and healthy pasta at that. So I boiled up a cup of this stuff and added it to the fennel, added some pine nuts, ground in some pepper, sprinkled on some kosher salt, and voila. !!! Food for a goddess! I can't quite figure out how the fennel makes the pasta seem creamy when there is nothing creamy at all to be found. So, a couple of dinners for the week and a refrigerator full of fresh strawberries and a pot of really fresh blanched green beans and I am good to go. Smoky hot indoor days can be fun after all!

Fires in California

I took these photos while driving down HWY 4 toward Stockton from the foothills. The smoke extends for a few hundred miles in the valley and foothills. I hear it's in tahoe as well. These photos were taken on Wednesday, and returning to Sonora today on Friday afternoon shows no relief. Now we have thunderstorms predicted for the weekend with dry lightning and no rain. More than 1000 fires are burning in California tonight. Breathing is challenging, even indoors. It's June. Hard to imagine what August will bring.
Just for comparison, here's a shot of the view from near here in the spring.

A Sunday Hike in Yosemite

I grew up in an LA suburb, with memories of smog and tract houses, but every summer, for two amazing weeks, we would travel the 8 hours up old HWY 99 to Yosemite. Almost every year we would hike Vernal Falls, we being my dad and me and some assorted kids. Dorothy usually went as far as the first bridge and waited for us. In 1974 I took my 4 children to Yosemite to camp, and we hiked Vernal Falls. I had to carry Melody most of the way down. Yesterday, climbing these stairs, I wondered how I managed that.

It is a truly lovely hike. Gorgeous vistas, and it is called the Mist Trail for a reason. I was glad for the hot day as I was soaked by the spray of the falls. Last night as I fell asleep, I could still hear the roar of water that accompanied our journey. Alison runs marathons, and digs holes at work like no one I have known, but she said at the end of the day, she was tired too! I'm so glad I wasn't carrying a child.

If you look closely at the next photo here, you can see the trail snaking up along the Merced River with tiny little people climbing along. It's only 4 miles round trip, but that last mile is just exciting enough and challenging enough that when you are done, it feels as though there is something to celebrate in addition to the power of those amazing falls. Actually, my greatest moment of celebration came AFTER I managed to get down all those steep wet craggy stairs. Thank you, Knees. You made it one more time . Many more photos on the Picassa Web Site, of course.

Back from klamath

Check out the MoHo Travels for my Recreation creek kayak trip and photos.

Mother's Day

My son John and his new friend Jan came to visit. It was an amazing serendipity, because as they were driving north, the tornados were hitting all around Joplin. I am sad for the people caught in the storms, but so glad that my son wasn't home when they hit. We had a nice evening and got up early this morning to walk Lincoln in the breezy cool sunlight. Lincoln is a lovely town, and John really enjoyed the architecture. I really enjoyed showing him one of my favorite things in Lincoln, the brick sculpture bas relief down in the HayMarket at the train depot. It is very nearly impossible to get any kind of photo that shows how detailed and beautiful this sculpture is, and it never ceases to amaze me when I look at it.

Teaching soil survey

I'm in Lincoln today and it's raining hard. Not surprising, and not surprising to see the radar with all those bright yellow and red blotches here on the Nebraska line, not surprising for May at least. I'm not sure why "they" seem to think that May is such a great time to be out in the fields here, maybe because the corn isn't up yet. It's been a good week. The erratic weather has been kind and refrained from dumping on us in the field. I have a good group this year, everyone seems interested and seems to be learning and having fun. It's funny how there are group dynamics and after some classes that weren't so positive, I appreciate this one even more. I was assigned a group of six to mentor and the work area we are mapping is the same one I had last year. I enjoyed that, especially taking them to "the tree". It's an amazing old elm along the creek, and definitely worth the photo. Meet a few of the new crop of soil scientists.

We all have the weekend free, and some of us decided to go to the amazing Cabela's store near Omaha. It was like Disneyland for outdoor people, maybe even more so than my old western favorite REI. There are not only acres of outdoor wear, fishing gear, hunting gear, packs of all sorts, boots, and everything wonderful that you ever saw in the Cabela catalog, there are also waterfalls and mountains and even a very huge aquarium inside the store. Lots of trophy animals as well, which may or may not affect your sensibilities, but certainly a pretty amazing place. Check out the website for the La Vista Nebraska store and be sure to go to the photo gallery! Incredible, actually

http://www.cabelas.com/cabelas/en/templates/community/aboutus/retail-detail.jsp?detailedInformationURL=/cabelas/en/content/community/aboutus/retail/retail_stores/lavista/lavista.html&cm_re=retail*left*lavista

It was fun, and I bought a really cool soil pack that is made by some sort of fly fishing specialist that just tickled me to pieces. I'm truly a bag lady, and my bag obsession is getting a bit weird, but this one has so many pockets and straps and bells and whistles that I couldnt' resist. i will be the coolest soil scientist around. hahahaha!

Of course, in addition to all the cool outdoor stuff, there is actually a real "mall" here in Lincoln and I managed to get there last night. Nice for a shopping deprived foothill resident. Back home it's an hour to any kind of shopping and it's always crowded and crummy. I enjoyed my little foray and even managed to get a pair of glasses that I needed. Had been planning to try to figure out how to get down to the LensCrafters in Modesto where my prescription resides, and lo and behold, here I was in Lincoln and they had my prescription on line and my glasses ready the next morning. Cool. Melody will be proud of me since they aren't old lady glasses any more. hahaha again! I returned home to beautiful flowers in my room from Melody and Kevin and the kids and John and his new friend Jan will be arriving soon to spend the evening and tomorrow with me here in Lincoln. Not bad for a Mom's day out!

afternoon at home

Afternoons at home are a real treat that I don't often get to enjoy. Today I am getting ready to go to Lincoln for my annual teaching adventure. This time last year Mo and I were heading out with the baby MoHo for our first cross country trip. This year, I am flying instead. My iris finally opened. Last year they opened as I left and by the time I returned they were finished. I am watching the dark purple ones on the other side of the driveway. so far, maybe half an inch of purple is showing. will I see them before Monday when I leave? Will they still be blooming when I return mid May? I wanted to capture the poppies as well this afternoon. They are so incredibly brilliant, blooming all over the hillsides, and right here along my pathway on the east side of the house.







Of course, I can never resist the hostas. I looked back over my photos, and they are like pictures of my children, every year, the same ones, incredibly photogenic children at that! The big one in the pot on the front porch has a history. She is called "Great Expectations" I saw this hosta for the first time in 2002 before I left Spokane at my favorite perennial nursery there. They had more than 300 varities of hostas, and this one was growing in a great old Italian urn under the shade house. It was so incredibly magnificent, and I had never seen hostas in pots before. I bought one tiny plant. The nurserman warned me that it was a slow grower. He was right. I have nursed this baby along for years in Klamath in the ground, then in this pot, moved her down to Jimtown with me, and now, finally for the first time, Great Expectations is living up to my expectations! Something about the huge leaves and the way the light and water plays on the leaves captures me totally. It's a hosta thing. Only hosta lovers probably have any clue what I mean.

Friendships

Been thinking about friendship this morning, especially since I spent last weekend with Maryruth. We enjoyed the reminiscing thing while have dinner and wine overlooking the ocean. 45 Years. It's amazing to me that we have weathered all those years and somehow managed to retain this friendship as an integral part of our lives. For 15 years I had women who were close friends to me, my women's group in Northern Idaho. At the time, several of those women I considered integral to my life. And yet, they have come and gone. Time and distance has eroded those friendships, so that now they are just a distant memory. I don't know how that happens. I guess what I really don't know is how this happens. How a friendship weathers a lifetime. Grace, I guess. Pure Grace. I put photos of the Big Sur trip up on the Picassa web site and of course, wrote all about it on the MoHo Travels blog, but here, this morning, the friendship is what comes to mind

Back to work again

The week has been beautiful actually, with clear warm sunny skies and cool breezes. Spring in the MotherLode is lovely, and for the moment it is still spring. I am working in the office way more than I want to be, but the support work for everything we are doing still needs time and while I would rather be working while it is cool, the deadlines are looming as usual.

But on Monday I took the day to get out with my crew again, and we went to the western most portion of the survey area to look at some soils that I thought were all figured out. Ah well, what's new. Everything was different. I found Ione formation out there on top of the strike zone of the greenschist, far above where it should have been. Great. As usual, a puzzle, and always trying to reconstruct the geologic history of a place. Uplift in the subduction zone makes it even more crazy to figure out. But the sun was shining and the breezes were wonderful, and sooner or later it will all make sense and we will have a good soil survey in the end.

Weekends

Last weekend was great, if short. I remember when a 2 day weekend was all we ever had, but now with 10 hour days 3 day weekends are the norm, at least for the field season. So a 2 day weekend seems way too short to get anything done. Mo has been here since Friday, and Saturday morning we fired up the MoHo and headed for the Sacramento Delta and a one night camping trip. Pictures and thoughts about it are on the MoHo Travels page so I won't repeat them here. It surprised me how relaxing it was. I talked to Deanna about this and she agreed. Even though it was just a short time, on Sunday morning we sat in the sun, listening to NPR and had a simple breakfast. I couldn't quite figure out the difference, why it felt more relaxing than sitting at home on a Sunday morning listening to NPR eating our breakfast. It has something to do with the "to-do" list that is always in the back of my mind when I am home. No matter how much I refuse to do the "to-do" on a day off, it's still there. So a weekend away is a good thing for that reason alone. No "to-do's! Loved it.