Sweet Sweet Cali

I think it's time
                           for a photo montage...

la bonita playa de Coronado - the water's gorgeous, but the jellyfish are monstrous

Balboa Park, where we listened to the Hillcrest Wind Ensemble serenade us with the songs of The Wizard of Oz

one of the coolest - and possibly only - wine and spirit parlors I've been to, Vin De Syrah - decorated with umbrellas hanging from the ceiling, teapots pouring from the walls, a hidden doorway covered in grass, and the most amazing honey truffle spread

I had been craving this meal for exactly 4 years and 6 months - it was worth the wait

Redwood Regional Park - wonderous and beautiful, even when we nearly lost the car

Blue Bottle Coffee, the real San Francisco treat; despite not being a coffee drinker, I have to say the iced coffee was pretty tasty

the one and only

London reunion!

Sewage in Spa Creek!

Warning! Beware to all who dare to swim in these waters!

A sewage line has broken, and the entire creek is contaminated - and may have been for the last month. Swimming in the area may lead to severe sickness, growing of new appendages, or worst of all - Chesapeake Bay disease

                   ooooooooops..... if anything happens to me, this might be an explanation - but how could I pass when the water is the perfect temperature and the jellyfish have yet to come?

4th of July

The 4th of July is my all-time-favorite holiday. Hot weather, bbq's, parades, red-white-blue, sparklers, watermelon, celebrating our country - what's not to like? But beyond this is an event I dream of all year long: the Market Street Block Party.

Since I was 7 years old, I have loved the holiday for this very reason. I don't know what it was exactly - the party has a simple premise: bring together neighbors to celebrate together in the street. But I always remembered it as the day when all the kids in the neighborhood could run around in the street with no cars, free to throw water balloons and raw eggs at each other with the only consequence being another thrown back in your own face. I always ended up looking like I'd been through a food war by the evening's end.

This year was the 33rd year, so it's become a long-standing tradition. The agenda includes bike decorating in the morning; parade in the afternoon; reading of parts of the Declaration of Independence; cook-out with hotdogs, hamburgers, and a plethora of red-white-and-blue colored foods; and finally the GAMES! - water balloon toss, egg toss, watermelon eating contest, and whatever else people think of, usually involving messy foods and liquids.

This year yours truly, along with Lizzie and Amanda, took on the task of organizing the party. This meant getting the permit, making the posters, and organizing the entire neighborhood so that a) we didn't have to buy all the food and supplies ourselves and b) we wouldn't be the only ones there, forced to get rid of 200+ hamburgers and hotdogs ourselves. Which probably wouldn't have ended well.

So we invited some people - lots of people - delivering letters seeking volunteers to help and then flyers to probably more than 300 houses in the neighborhood. We ended up with over 100 people this year, which we considered quite a success. Without many kids around, the parade was small - and followed by an impatient white pick-up truck that was not happy to be delayed by what must have looked like a discombobulated stroll through the street blasting Sg Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Regardless, everything went according to plan. And I got second in the watermelon eating contest for 18 and up. 

When everyone had gone home, Lizzie and I took a well-earned dip in the creek before the fireworks started. I won't say organizing the block party was easy - the ache in my feet the next morning was like none I've ever felt before - but it was well worth the effort.

Weekend Getaway

I thought crossing the Bay Bridge on the Sunday before Memorial Day would be a synch. Everyone's already wherever they're going, relaxing in the sun before a rare Sunday night out on the town, right? Apparently not, as Nik and I discovered... my plan to leave midday was not the greatest, as it seems there is a nearly perpetual backup getting onto the bridge, but we eventually got to our destination. And for once, the destination was not the beach. I've recently discovered a path of about 10 vineyards that make their way down Maryland's Eastern Shore - the Chesapeake Wine Trail. And this was my birthday suprise for Niklas.

The first winery we visited was in St. Michael's. I love this cute little town, but the winery was tiny and crowded - and all we wanted to do was sit outside on such a gorgeous day. So we left, hot and sweaty, without consuming a single drop.

Our next stop was this beautiful vineyard, Layton's Chance, which had just opened the week before. The owner, Joe Layton's family has been farming here for over 80 years. He gave us the grand tour, explaining to the most minute detail how to make wine... we were interested in the how but were really holding out for the taste. It was worth the wait. Five varieties later we found ourselves plopped into two of the most comfortable rocking chairs, glass of wine in hand, overlooking the vineyards in the late afternoon sunshine... bliss.

The final stop of our Eastern Shore tour was Cambridge, more precisely the Lodgecliff B&B. The B&B is owned by a friendly couple from Wisconson who did all they could to make us feel at home. The old farmhouse was actually the first B&B in Dorchester County, and sits on what used to be its own 150 acres of property right on the Choptank River. We watched the sunset and then explored what there is to see of Cambridge's downtown. There's not much at this point, and I don't think we were missing anything either. We talked to a few locals - our cab driver (the only legit one in town), our waiter (we befriended him, as we were his last table... and the restaurant's last table.... and the last people eating out in all of Cambridge, I believe, seated 1 minute before the 9pm cut-off), and the cop who sat with us for most of our dinner because there just didn't seem to be much happening that Saturday night. The town is cute, but with only one bar open past 10pm - Jimmie & Sooks - occupied by about 7 people (us included), there's not too much going on... this was exactly what we wanted, though, and it turned out to be an amazing weekend. Next time I'll just have to add more wineries to the trip

Leading the Way in Green

The beautiful leafy riverside neighborhood of Olde Severna Park outside Annapolis is taking the green movement seriously. They've just planted a rain garden to stop pesticide-rich water from flowing straight into the Severn, and they've got much more planned where that came from. They're also beginning to use wind to power their houses, one family at a time. Read more in my article, published in Bay Weekly this week http://www.bayweekly.com/year10/issue_21/lead_2.html

Rappel for Kidneys!

Baltimore's new Legg Mason Tower in Harbor East development stands at 360.5 feet from ground to roof. On Saturday, June 19, up to 80 people will have the opportunity to scale its glass facade - from the 23rd to the 4th floor balcony - all in the name of kidneys. Rappellers must raise $1000 to rappel, and all proceeds go straight to the National Kidney Foundation, benefiting the 1 in 9 adults in our country who suffer from kidney disease. Yes, $1000 is a lot of money - but think about it: you know 100 people. So just get each of them to donate $10 to the cause, and you're set.

this is it- so high you can't see the top

For this, you'll get the glory of bouncing down the side of one Baltimore's newest buildings perched on the edge of the Inner Harbor with magnificent views of the entire city. It's over the edge for a good cause - do you dare? For more information, visit http://www.kidneymd.org/news/rappelforkidneyhealth.html

My Saving Texas Truck

I had my first highway collision last Friday. When I say highway, I don't mean that it was a high-speed hit. I was actually stopped, halted by I-95's typical bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic south of D.C. The guy behind me failed to notice I wasn't moving and BAM a horrible sounding metal-on-metal crash slammed my body forward. All the stuff that has gradually accumulated in my car, despite my best efforts to contain it, flew to my feet - pens, nail file, post-it notes, shoes, directions, half-eaten banana.

I'm the guy in red

Thank God the man wasn't going very fast... maybe 20mph or even less, I really don't know. My head banged back hard against my headrest and I sat there for a few moments wondering what to do. The shock subsided as a merging 18-wheeler jolted me to action and I pulled off the road, the perpetrator following.

I stepped out of my car on wobbly legs, shaken and sore in my neck, but otherwise fine. The damage was, to my surprise, not much more than some chipped paint and an imprint of his license plate, and after exchanging insurance information, each of us drove off.

The problem was I still had 4 hours to go until I reached my destination: Durham, North Carolina. That's a long way to go on a good day after almost 3 hours already stuck in the car - and after the crash, all I wanted to do was get there - or anywhere really - and get out.

I continued on my journey, and somewhere around Richmond started following a little white pick-up truck with Texas tags. For some reason, I found comfort in this nondescript car, and stayed behind it for awhile before losing it as I got off I-95 onto I-85. But a few miles later, I found the little white truck again and kept in its wake well beyond crossing the NC border.

I'm not sure what it was about this car - it was pretty nondescript, and I never saw the driver. I doubt he thought any more of me than a pair of bright lights on his tail. But when I finally got too low on gas to risk waiting for another exit, I veered off the road, regretfully parting from my leading guide.

I finally did make it to Good Fellows bar at midnight, just in time to ring in JC's birthday. The next day we drove to Wrightsville Beach in Wilmington, and I can honestly say that jumping in the cold salty ocean never felt so good.