Parenting Tip #24, courtesy of my father-in-law

24. Do not do that which can be done by the other person.

When we picked up Jubjub from my inlaws' house on Tuesday, my mother-in-law let me know the cat had thrown up once over the weekend. It was just a little bit and was actually in his food dish. MIL had cleaned it up and then told Paul's dad what had happened with the cat. He knew. He'd seen it and decided to not say anything until after my MIL saw it and cleaned it up.

And when we mention this vacation in the future, Mr. Taffy will definitely be included

In January, I started hounding Paul about taking a vacation during my Spring Break. We hadn't been on a trip that didn't include seeing family in over a year. And it's not that we don't enjoy seeing relatives but sometimes, it's not exactly relaxing. I didn't want to go any place exotic. I didn't even care if we were gone the whole week. I just wanted to get out of town. Just the two of us.

About two weeks ago, we finally made arrangements for a long weekend in Carmel, CA. We'd been to the area about three years ago when Paul was attending a conference in Monterey. But while I was out exploring Cannery Row and wandering through the shops of Carmel, Paul was attending meetings and working so it wasn't much of a vacation for him. We'd both enjoyed the previous visit and decided it would be a nice place to get away for a few days.

So we deposited the cat at Paul's parents' house, where he would be pampered and spoiled for four days, and on Saturday, we caught the second plane out of town (the first being deemed "too early" by someone who wasn't me but will remain nameless). We landed in San Jose just after noon, which of course, prompted all kinds of lame jokes about knowing the way to San Jose. Paul was even able to find it on the brightly colored map provided by the rental car people.

After taking the scenic route to Carmel, which Paul decided meant "winding," we arrived at our hotel. I had warned Paul that it might be a little girly for his taste since he refuses to have a bedspread with the teeniest of flowers on it in our own room. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by big blue and white cabbage roses on the walls and bedspread and little painted china plates adorning the walls. He took it all in stride though when I mentioned that the Normandy Inn has a "cat-in-residence." (More on him in just a bit.)

First order of business was a walk on Carmel Beach. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, sunny, little breezy, and in the mid-60's so there were plenty of people out on the beach. Our favorites were these two ladies:
Paul was able to sit, relax, and unwind from his long working hours,
we were able to ogle Pebble Beach (that's it in the distance; we wandered closer but didn't take a picture),
and after nearly getting wiped out by a pair of very exuberant, and very wet, Golden Retrievers (the dogs miscalculated the necessary stopping time before they would hit us and one ran smack into me), we had their owners snap a picture of us on the beach.

After the beach and dinner, we wandered back to the hotel for after-dinner drinks in the lobby. It was then that Paul met Mr. Taffy, the cat who resides at the Normandy Inn and the reason he didn't mind staying in the flower-laden hotel room. Mr. Taffy was a stray who wandered into the hotel about 10 years ago and was adopted by the manager. He isn't a little fellow, weighing in at about 20 lbs., but he is very mellow, and very spoiled. We'd noticed a blanket on one of the couches and decided that that had to be Mr. Taffy's seat. On this evening, he decided that smack-dab in the middle of the coffee table, and right in front of the fire, was the most desirable seat in the house. Most times we stopped by the lobby, though, Mr. Taffy could be found reposing on his couch.

Sunday, we decided to go to Monterey by way of the 17-Mile Drive. It's a beautiful drive that wanders through the Del Monte Forest, along the shore of the Monterey Pennisula, by three golf courses and multi-million dollar homes with amazing views. We saw several houses for sale along the way so we picked up a couple of flyers. For a mere $11,000,000, we could have a fixer-upper on the first fairway of Pebble Beach. Not quite in our budget, yet.
Looking toward Monterey Bay at a Del Monte Forest overlook.
Those are birds covering that rock. Bird guano was harvested from the rock to use for fertilizer in the early part of the 20th century.
Harbor seals enjoy the sun on an early spring day. This overlook is closed in April when the seals begin having their pups.

Another photo op was at the Lone Cypress, the symbol of Pebble Beach and the famous golf tournament. The powers-that-be have unceremoniously girded the tree up with wires and rock reinforcements, trying to keep the tree alive for another 50 years. And the famous one is the one behind us, by the way.

After the drive, we headed to Fisherman's Wharf in Monterey. Paul remember a salt-water taffy place on the wharf and wanted to pick some up. We also stopped at a couple more salt water taffy places on the wharf and on Cannery Row. In fact, we brought home over 2 lbs. of the chewy goodness.

We paid $1 to take this picture of Paul with the little Capuchin monkey at Fisherman's Wharf. But look at that smile; it might have been the best dollar we spent on the entire trip.

We'd been to the Monterey Aquarium the last time we were in Monterey and both of us wanted to go back there again. We ended up running out of time but fortunately, the part we had to hurry through was where we'd dawdled before. The aquarium is housed in old sardine canning factories and there is a small exhibit about this part of Monterey's history. I'm examining the old factory whistle while Paul looks over the display of Ed Ricketts' specimens. Ricketts was a marine biologist in Monterey in the early 20th century and also a friend of John Steinbeck.

For some reason the couple of pictures of the fish won't load properly. The only picture that will load is this one from the outdoor exhibit that showcased birds of the area. We also enjoyed the touching pools with the various critters (star fish, decorator crab, sea urchins) and the bat ray pool.
(And it should be noted that after the aquarium, we visited the lovely Monterey mall to pick up some new shirts for Paul. Apparently, "we" forgot to put the ones I'd lovingly picked and carefully folded and laid out for him into his suitcase. He thought I'd said it was my stack and I didn't double-check before I walked downstairs. But the crisis was averted and Paul got some lovely new clothes out of the deal.)

Monday was colder and drizzly so we opted to stay in Carmel, wandering around the neighborhoods and exploring the shops. In the afternoon, we went into Pacific Grove, Butterfly Town U.S.A., to visit Point Pinos Lighthouse. This is the oldest continuely operating lighthouse in the United States.
Looking out the second floor lookout (the window above the porch in the above picture).
The basement contained a variety of artifacts, including examples of the lightbulbs used and the refractor lens. Paul also discovered that there are some downsides to being 6'4". (He was able to stand up between the rafters in the basement.)
The lighthouse sits in the middle of the municipal golf course. We didn't see any of the hungry birds the sign warned about but there were several deer grazing on the greens.
We stayed in Pacific Grove a bit longer, looking at their downtown area (it reminded me of the town in The Music Man) and perusing a recently opened bookstore. The rain let up as we drove back into Carmel so we decided to take another walk on the beach to enjoy the sunset.

All in all, it was definitely a very relaxing trip and one we both needed more than we realized. I've got a few more days to relax before school starts again on Monday. There is a list of little things that need to be done before then but nothing terribly pressing. This week is definitely a benefit to being an educator.

My Blue-eyed Nieces

...who both wear Tinkerbell pajamas


Sarah, age 5


Abigail, age 3

If pink was made for little girls,
then why do they wear blue?
Perhaps it is to match their eyes
Or maybe their tennis shoes.
--Anonymous, Age 8

This is how his brain works

Last night, I asked Paul to endorse a check because I would be going to the bank today. When I came downstairs this morning, I found the check with a sticky note on it, reading

To whom it may concern:

This is a good check. It is probably in my top 5 all time checks and I wholeheartedly endorse this check.

Sincerely,
El Pablo

I love that guy.

840,000 acres

The spring winds that have been blowing so strongly the past two weeks seem to be dying down a bit. It's a little cooler, a little more humid. This is good news for the firefighters in the TX Panhandle who are still battling parts of Sunday's fires. 840,000 acres burned to date. 2% of the land mass of the state. A burn area larger than Rhode Island.

The vast majority of firefighters battling these blazes are volunteers. Volunteers who saw the homes of those they know burn to the ground. Saw livestock injured and killed by fire. Saw the loss of life that they couldn't prevent. 1900 people were evacuated on Sunday. That doesn't sound like many until you realize that it was entire towns that were being evacuated. Towns whose livelihood is dependent upon the rangelands and ranches that are now absolutely devastated. It will be years before "normal" returns to this area and ranchers are able to use their lands for grazing once again.

Natural disasters are always heartbreaking, no matter where or what kind, but it's even harder when it hits home. And my heart just broke when I heard first heard the short bit on the radio Monday morning. While my hometown wasn't affected by this week's fires in the TX panhandle, these places are still home. Growing up, I knew someone from each of the affected towns. In high school, we played the sports teams from many of these towns, saw them at academic competitions, met in Amarillo at the mall, went to college at Texas Tech. The people affected by the fires could just as easily been my brothers, sister, aunts, uncles or grandparents.

As I've read the Amarillo newspaper each morning, I'm more and more impressed with the strength and character of the citizens of these little towns. There is no finger-pointing at what should have been done or who was in the wrong. And yes, I know it could be coming but it hasn't yet. Perhaps it is because they know it could have been worse. Or that it still might be--sadly, there's plenty more rangeland that is just tinderbox dry. Perhaps it is just because that is how these people are. They don't see the good in pointing fingers. These are salt-of-the-earth people who work hard all week, go to church on Sundays, love their neighbors as themselves. No need to worry about what was, just fix what needs fixing and move on. Help out however you can. Take some food to those in need. Offer your home, your car, some hay, your shoulder to cry on--anything that might help those who are affected heal a little bit.

And in the meantime, those of us who aren't at home can send a little money and offer a few prayers for the families who lost loved ones, for the ranchers who lost so much, for the volunteers to who helping make things right. And for all of us in the parched, dry Southwest, we can pray for rain.