RODEO BEACH & MARIN HEADLANDS VISITOR'S CENTER, PART I

Mick had a few hours to spare Sunday morning before spending the rest of the day studying. It was sunny here in Sausalito so we climbed in the van and drove up to Rodeo Beach. The weather there is typically 10-20 degrees cooler than here on the bay and often overcast/foggy. That was the case Sunday, and, for some ridiculous reason, we were surprised. Wearing shorts and light jackets, we all wimped out; instead of running around on the beach, we drove up to the Bird Island overlook and Marin Headlands Visitor's Center overlooking Rodeo Beach.

At Bird Island we watched pelicans soar through the gray skies. Nobody else seemed very impressed with the birds, but I have to admit that I was. I don't think I've seen pelicans before moving to this area. Are there pelicans in Washington? How'd I miss them? Whatever the case, we all liked seeing the island's white bird poop a little closer and listening to the various fog horn blasts sounding off the water.

The visitor's center was full of hands-on exhibits as well as a small game area. We spent at least an hour there learning about the Miwok (local natives) and there Kotcha shelters made of reeds and grass. Displays also revealed the area's history as settled by Portugese dairy farmers and Spanish Vaqueros. Mick and Dane played sea animal dominoes while Aubrey and I took whiffs of local plants from fragrance bottles and examined items at the Touch Table.

Ode to Frog, Bird and Sun

A Struggling Writer-Mom's Journal Entry

April 20, 2009

Ok. Again. I seem to really be resisting writing. What's going on? Is my life too simple right now? I don't buy that. Look at the simple lives Thoreau and Emerson made for themselves. And Emily Dickinson. Too simple isn't a cause. I think that perhaps I'm shying away from sitting and thinking. Shying away from observations, from writing about that noisy little frog in the algae-ridden puddle of a pond outside my bedroom. That little frog with the large gravelly voice. I shy away from writing down such observations and the way they make me happy with the sun warming my knees while I write with my notebook across my lap. There we go. That's what I haven't been writing *croak croak* and it's what I've been dying to write.

I've never caught a frog. I don't think I've ever even spied one in the woods. I've let a friend hand over one of those clammy, sticky creatures to globe up in my palms, but I've never had the joy of discovering one myself.

This little fella sounds awfully close. Like if I took about eight steps he'd be under my toes or hopping up them. But I tried looking five minutes ago and he was silent as a clam and hidden from view.

Maybe I saw tree frogs in the wild once. On my own. In Costa Rica on my honeymoon. They were bright red. And bright blue? I don't recall.

Now I hear these marvelous birds. There's a little scraping noise this one makes as it moves from branch to branch. Yesterday the kids and I saw a blue jay holding a giant yellow worm-like bit of food in its mouth. It flew low from one shrub to the next, but gave up on it. We were laughing because we kind of think it's a pair of candy bunny teeth (like squishy upper dentures) that the Easter bunny left in our back yard last week. We found one gnawed-on candy wrapper, sitting on a railroad tie step. Maybe the critter that opened it didn't actually eat it. The bird ended up ditching the candy in the ivy, too.

We watched a blue jay earlier in the week seeking twigs for a nest in the red blossom tree. I don't know the tree's real name -- that's the best I can do for now. Besides, the point is: this marvelous little creature was testing the weight and strength, we supposed, of various twigs and straws and grasses. We watched him/her hop and test, finally choosing a three inch long pale twig and zip up to the tree where we're so happy s/he's making a nest.

At least it's sunny around here. To think that six days ago it was 30 degrees and snowing, followed by hail pellets the size of beebees, is just nearly unbelievable. I don't like Spring snow. I like heat and sunshine and warm breezes. Thank goodness I believe we've turned a corner with 70 degrees all weekend and promise of 80s and higher the rest of the week.

Maybe my inspiration for writing is aligned with the sun. Now that I can see and feel it more, perhaps my words will hit the page like the sun's rays hit my skin.

We spent July 4th with cousins and grandparents and Karen and Bonita and Amber and Heidi and Pete at Carkeek Park in Seattle.

It was a gorgeous sunny day; we potlucked, bbq'd, splashed in saltwater, waded through drainage tunnels, and, if you were Pete or Heidi, got special treatment by the birds perched on the branches overhead. (Hint: from a bird, rhymes with bird.)


And, yes! We finally met Weston! Here he is up close and delightful, in a photo with Auntie Anjie, and in another with Kai and Indi.






Note: Auntie Dana bought the cousins matching Independence Day outfits. See if you can figure out who matches! (Think gender; think occasion -- i.e. daytime, nighttime. You'll find both.)

That week we also met up with our friends the Malcolms and swam/bbq'd at Lake Washington. Pictured with the kayaks: the Malcolm kids and the Reynolds kids all sprawled out.

Me with my new best friend, Anne Lamott.*


*For the record, Anne Lamott is a highly regarded author from this area. She's written one of my favorite books, Bird By Bird: Instructions for Writing and Life, and Operating Instructions. When I took this picture, she'd just given the keynote speech for the 10-year anniversary celebration for my local Marin City Library. Oh yeah, and she has no idea who I am.

Woof! - National Poetry Month

I took Sharkles on a walk to the library with me yesterday to pick up two more Hardy Boys books on tape (the kids' new passion).

It's National Poetry Month, so when we left the library this gray-haired lady with a hemp purse stopped and asked if she could read me a poem. "I've got one about dogs!" she said, rustling around in her messy bag.

"Here it is!" she sang. Then she composed herself to read.

I was in a hurry (for no other reason than that Dane was home with a cough, waiting), but Sharkles sat next to me, and we listened to the poem:

Percy and Books (Eight)
by Mary Oliver

Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he sneezes.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out and the neighbor's dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say, Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.
Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough.
Let's go.

The poem is from Oliver's collection, Red Bird (2008)

And, on that note, my happy, sniffing, panting, gazing-up-at-me-adoringly dog and I jogged home.

Goodbye, #22

Last night my old friend Larry from high school left me a message to call him. Larry's wife is sick and due to have a kidney transplant, so I was worried he might have bad news.

He had bad news, but it wasn't about Tammy. It was about Brian Drugge (pronounced "druggy").

Turns out, Brian Drugge died of colon cancer this week. He was 39.

Brian was this really quiet, really amazing athlete who went to our high school. He was short, like 5'5", and was thick and swift-footed and easy-going. He started on varsity teams for baseball and football - and he always wore the number 22.

He had this noticeable sweet adoration from his teammates, and I don't think I ever heard a bad word about him. From anyone.

It was so hard to hear that Larry, perhaps like a lot of Brian's old buddies, was so sad that he didn't even know Brian was suffering. "Why didn't I know?" Larry asks during our phone call. "Why didn't he tell any of us, so we could..." Larry couldn't finish.

"So you could show him you cared?" I venture.

Larry's quiet. "Yeah..."

The other thing that makes me sad is knowing how colon cancer ravages the body. Brian's death reminds me of my dad's 52-year-old bird frame, all elbows and knuckles and teeth, after colon cancer ravaged his 6'3" body.

Brian was so compact and broad and muscular. I picture him reduced to that smallness and stillness and think it's just so contrary to what most of us ever knew him to be. I can't shake that image from my head.

He's survived by parents, siblings, a wife, 3 daughters. That's heartbreaking, too.

Rest in Peace, Brian Drugge. Even those of us far away still think of you fondly.

*
Friends, if you have anything to add, please share. (Karen?)

BOUQUETS TO ART

I took in the De Young's annual Bouquets to Art event again, checking out how local florists chose to complement their chosen museum art. I lifted the above photo from their website (click on the "Bouquets to Art" title for more info) and, just so you know, it'll be the best photo on this post. Unfortunately, my skills do the exhibit no justice whatsoever, but I thought I'd at least give a feeble try.

Here's one of my favorite pieces in the museum. It's a South American tribal chief's robe (kind of like a poncho -- you can see where he'd slip his head through). It's A THOUSAND YEARS OLD, and it's made entirely of exotic bird feathers, some found only in the remotest parts of the jungle.

Below, the artist replicated the effect with tulips.

Next, here's the famous gumball painting by Thiebaud,
called "Three Machines," complemented by paper
origami flowers in this arrangement.

Hmmm.... don't know what this one below
is called, but it was stunning.

Okay, I'll include this simply
because it triggered my sweet tooth.

And so, without meaning to sound too nerdy, let me just say this exhibit is so cool because it always inspires new ways to look at an actual museum piece -- by offering the new lens of a floral interpretation.

Here's a slalom board my buddy Justin made for me. Somehow in the midst of all our action at school and studying at home, he finds time to make some amazing boards. Hint... no kids.

He hand laminated the 9-ply deck, then fiberglassed both the top and bottom, then painted the red/orange bottom with the bird, then finally sanded and added 3 more coats of epoxy resin. He's doing for fun what I used to do in college to earn my degree in plastics engineering... I added the grip tape (check out my homage to his artwork that I cut into the grip tape) and the rest of the parts.

Anj posted a video awhile back of me riding. We found a hill in SF that is fairly newly paved and is residential enough that we can run stop signs without fear of traffic. Of course, we look for traffic, there's just not that much of it. It's about 24 blocks worth of fun, with a view of the Pacific the whole way, then we catch a Muni bus at the bottom and get a ride back up. It's like skiing without the cold...

SATURDAY AT THE MUSEUM

Two Saturdays ago, we took the kids to the DeYoung's 10:30 AM children's art class. Mick studied in the cafeteria and I sat in on the docent tour/lecture and art project.

The topic was textures and patterns and symmetry. The first item we looked at was a thousand year old South American king's tunic made entirely of jungle bird feathers. You could barely tell they were feathers -- the texture was very flat -- and it was brilliant. The main color was yellow, with patterns created at the outer edge from blue, red, white and black "wave," triangle, line or square repetitions.

The kids' project was to cut colorful felt shapes and glue them onto a rectangular sheet of white cotton material in the symmetric pattern of their choice. Dane was done pretty quickly and not terribly engaged (I think he likes drawing or sculpting best); Aubrey took quite a while and cut out very tiny hearts and circles and triangles, and then accented with little pearl beads. All symmetrically, of course.

Afterward, we grabbed Mick and went outside to find the Sky room (not sure of its real name) where the accoustics allow for you to to hear sound purely -- where a whisper can envelop you if you stand in the center. (see photo above, taken when Maureen and Jackie visited)

With our packed lunches we headed across the street to the Arboretum in Golden Gate Park. We ate on benches next to the turtle pond, took a walk, played some frisbee, and finally headed home in the late afternoon.

Bay Area Freebies

Exploratorium

On the first Wednesday of each month, the Exploratorium offers free admission to the public. We arrived when the museum opened that morning and stayed for three hours. The place was packed, but since we got a good parking spot and expected lots of people, it was exciting anyway.

Dane was fascinated by the "decaying animal" display. Inside a terrarium, a turtle and a white mouse were decaying (at different stages). At a computer terminal, a bird, a mouse, and a rabbit could be viewed during the decaying process at time elapsed rates. Gross but intriguing.

Aubrey wanted to pop the four foot high bubble wall created by a machine. (We saw something similar when we visited the children's museum in Lafayette, LA.)



Habitot

We missed registration for the $15 gingerbread extravaganza held at the Bay Area Discovery Museum (BADM) where we have a membership, which was disappointing since the stores had been out of gingerbread kits for a week before I realized it; however, we were relieved to learn that Berkeley's children's museum (almost past visiting ages for our kids, but not quite) had a free day on December 21st. Mick and I took the kids and they helped decorate a giant community gingerbread house (but mostly they ate the frosting) with about two hundred other kids. Then they comandeered rockets and painted their faces.




Santa Comes to Sausalito

Dane and Aubrey and I walked to downtown Sausalito one evening (about 2 miles) to visit Mr. and Mrs. Claus. We even got to take our own pictures. When it was their turn, they stood facing Santa, and Aubrey belted out "I'd like a Hello Kitty cup please. That's all." Dane said he'd like "a train, a car, and a person." (For the record, Santa came through. Aubrey got her Hello Kitty cup and Dane got a Boco--Thomas the Train character--and a remote control race car and a Lego Spiderman to assemble.) Then they sat on Santa's lap for a picture. When they asked where the reindeer were, Mrs. Claus said parking was pretty tough downtown and that they had to leave them in a field a few miles away. We looked for them on the walk home but didn't see them.

RODEO BEACH & MARIN HEADLANDS VISITOR'S CENTER, PART III

Listening to bird sounds, waves, and music. Dane was really excited about this stuff. He kept yelling about how great the audio was, not really aware that he was yelling across the visitor's center with his earphones on.

Last Monday, July 18:

*Aubrey at the Golden Gate Bridge overlook on a windy, clear morning.

*Dane at Rodeo Beach (a 10 minute drive from our house) in front of an island he thought looked like a lion. We later learned its name and some local knowledge from a park ranger, and now Dane says, "You know what's really cool? It's called Bird Island and it's white because the birds poop all over it."

*Alcatraz from the same Golden Gate overlook. Haven't explained that place to the kids yet.

*Aubrey at Rodeo Beach. We meant to do our first local hike (a 1.5 mile walk around Rodeo Beach Lagoon) but we got as far as the sand and the kids made a stick/rock snowman and gathered shiny tiny pebbles for an hour instead.