Our little one was just five months old when she took her first flight.  We went to Phoenix to see my family, whom we had not gotten to visit with since our wedding four years earlier.  That morning before our flight she ate her first real food.  So it was a special time with several firsts.  I chose this picture because I have said it numerous times — wolves always find me, or I find them.  Forgive the grainy picture but as you can see, my spirit animal was present the very first time I took my little wolf cub on a plane.  Seeing my family was so important to me.  My mother was going to go but her health was not well enough to allow her to make it.  It was March and the desert was in bloom.  Seeing all the flowers on the cacti and the birds they attracted were magical.  My first cousins have a beautiful home and they showed us around their property, explaining about all the different types of flora and fauna which was fascinating.  That first day my second and third cousins came over and we all had a great family dinner.  My first cousin made a pistachio cake that my husband literally devoured.  Many of my fondest childhood memories are of spending time with my uncle, aunt, and cousins in California and Arizona when I was seven.  My uncle got me a camera, which began my love of pictures; something he and my mother shared.  And I will never forget driving through the great redwood forests.  Time and distance may have separated us but the bond remained unbroken.  My baby doll carries our family name and it was so good to be with them again.  The American writer Alex Haley said, “In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future.”  And with my little one, my precious small family has been reborn, like the rising from the ashes of the phoenix.

You know how people joke about swiping everything free from hotels?  Well, I am among those who “avail themselves.”  At our first time in a hotel together within minutes I’d managed to swoop up all the fancy toiletries and stuff them in my suitcase.  Poor Burk had no idea.  I’ll never forget he came out of this big beautiful bathroom with plumes of steam billowing out and I could hear the shower running in the background.  Clutching a towel around his waist with his eyes squeezed shut, water was dripping from his hair and onto the marble floor.  “Baby Doll,” he said to the room in general, “This must not be a very good hotel.  There’s no soap anywhere!”  I sat on the bed striving not to look guilty; fortunately he had his eyes closed.  After telling him I would request more I got discovered.  He demanded I give some up that instant.  So I called down and got extra to take one of each home.  By now the poor man knows my peccadillo.  I have shampoos, conditioners, soaps, and lotions from every place we have ever traveled.  They are arranged in chronological order under one of our bathroom cabinets.  When I manage to acquire extra I sometimes put them in our guest bathroom or I will bring them on future trips so as not to use the ones I intend on procuring.  The American author John Steinbeck once said, “Many a trip continues long after movement in time and space have ceased.”  In a way my collection of tiny toiletries help bring those places back for me.  They are part of my remembrances.  I am limiting myself, though; it can be a slippery slope.

Ever since my husband and I got married we have taken a trip somewhere for our wedding anniversary.  But this was the year I was finally pregnant!  And NOTHING was going to take me more than a fifteen mile radius from the hospital.  I realize pregnant women travel all the time, but I was 40 and had gone through years of fervent prayer, painful procedures, two rounds of in vitro, and hundreds of shots to have this precious child that was all mine and my husband’s genetically.  I was in my second trimester and my pregnancy was going great.  I knew it was all in God’s hands; I just did not want to take any chances.  So I came up with a getaway that would be forever special but still close to home.  I am a Francophile and I have also learned to appreciate boutique hotels.  The Hôtel St. Germain, a member of the elite Relais & Châteaux, came to mind.  What I thought would be good turned out to be great:  it was the most memorable, magical, elegant, and unforgettable night of my entire life.  After the valet took our car we ascended the stairs and noticed an exquisite arrangement of antique furniture from France and New Orleans in a little sitting area.  Off to the left a huge mirror reflected a giant vase resplendent with lavender roses.  The silky soft, fresh petals spilled to perfection around white votive candles which flickered throughout the parlor.  We relaxed in the library where I indulged in one tiny glass of pink champagne before being escorted by name into the grand dining room.  It was, in my opinion, the best seat in the house and has become our favorite table.  Nestled in the center against the windows, it overlooks a charming, ivy covered French quarter style courtyard.  Cut crystal glasses glistened off the chandelier and I loved that the table was set with varying antique silverware and Limoges china.  We dined by candlelight and the courses were not rushed.  The food was exquisite.  Cold water poured from chilled silver pitchers and our entire dinner was perfection.  Handwritten place cards, a menu with our names and the date written on them, and mysterious envelopes rested quietly against the fine linen on our table.  I have written a little about this before, but we arranged for a treasure hunt to be held in our suite after dinner.  I am sure traditionally this involves a proposal, but as I was already happily married and carrying our child, we decided to make it a treasure hunt for the baby.  (Well, mostly, I did add some Toblerone chocolate.)  After we finished our dessert we broke the wax seals on our envelopes and were bid a pleasurable hunt as we made our way up the gleaming, curved wooden staircase.  The hotel is composed of seven suites and, because I love blue, I chose number five.  It had a beautiful canopied blue silk bed and was on the second floor but, when our hotelier found out I was expecting, she felt I would be more comfortable on the third floor in Suite Seven — which she graciously gave to us at no additional charge.  It was an impossibly romantic hideaway as you can see swathed in crimson with a gabled roof and enormous windows.  A separate sitting room lavishly upholstered in red toile featured an antique feathered daybed, a dressing area, and the bathroom held a big Jacuzzi tub.  Burk took off his cufflinks, I took off my shoes, and we began to prepare for the hunt.  Following handwritten clues on thick, ecru note cards, we were like children eagerly awaiting what we would find.  I had bought things for Burk and he had bought things for me to discover.  They were not expensive and the hotel could have very easily been snobby.  Instead they embraced our personal gifts without reserve or judgment.  Among our treasures was a rubber ducky, looking forward to bath time with our tiny little girl, and other small things we hoped she might like.  I am an eternal, impossible, incurable romantic.  And I knew this extraordinary woman who owned the hotel must be as well.  The next morning over breakfast we were encouraged to take our time and we truly felt as if we had been on a trip.  I have been lucky enough to dine in France and New Orleans plus all of Dallas’ finest and I can easily say this was without equal.  The Chinese philosopher Confucius once said, “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”  And that is exactly what we did on our Babymoon.

It was the final day of our trip.  We had ridden up in a little cable car on a crazy steep hill and had gone down the famed Lombard Street with its eight hairpin turns.  It has been claimed to be “the most crooked street in the world” and I believe it.  But still no sign of my beloved St. Francis.  And then I did a little research.  It turns out the Mission San Francisco de Asis was founded in 1776 and is both the oldest intact Mission in California and also the oldest building in San Francisco!  It was incredible going into a building that had survived earthquakes and was as old as the founding of our country.  Then I discovered the National Shrine of Saint Francis of Assisi.  I had wanted to visit Assisi and Gubbio while we were in Italy on our honeymoon but we just couldn’t swing it.  Imagine my surprise when I discovered exquisite Italian murals portraying the life of St. Francis and radiant stained glass throughout the length of the church.  Finally I had discovered him in these two holy places.  Since it was our last night, we decided to take a romantic dinner boat cruise around the bay at sunset.  When we came up to the dock this guy took one look at Burk and said, “Way to go player!” which we both took as a funny compliment.  I was wearing my beautiful red cape and we were happy and relaxed.  American photographer Imogen Cunningham once said, “I think San Francisco is the best place in the whole world for an easy life.”  After dessert we headed up for dancing to a great live band.  For as long as I live I will never forget passing under the Golden Gate Bridge, all lit up, with the lights of San Francisco twinkling off in the distance.  And of course the last song they sang was “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.”  I sure did.

On this day we booked a tour of Muir Woods followed by some Napa wineries.  A giant bus picked us up at our hotel and we were off.  Muir Woods is a national monument for a reason.  Only twelve miles north of San Francisco, it protects 240 acres of old growth coast redwood forest (Sequoias) and is one of the few small areas remaining in the San Francisco Bay area.  These precious trees can only be found in a narrow, cool coastal belt from California in the south to Oregon in the north.  Before logging hit, there were an estimated two million acres of old growth forest containing redwoods growing along this narrow strip along the coast.  It is sickening really.  In 1908 President Theodore Roosevelt declared the land a National Monument.  Named after the famed naturalist John Muir, his environmental campaigns helped establish the National Park system.  I have no words to adequately convey the silent majesty of this small forest.  Pine needles lent silence to our steps as we approached one area aptly named “The Cathedral.”  They even posted a sign requesting no talking in acknowledgement of its tranquility.  It was literally like worshipping God in church and I had no doubt it was sacred; possibly even more so than edifices built by man.  In a huge semi-circle these majestic giants encircled us, and it was both humbling and awe-inspiring.  I had been through Sequoias as a child and they had always stayed with me.  This brought it all back and made me feel as if I’d never left.  Muir once said:

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.”

Burk and I both hated to leave this sacred spot of peace that is but a remnant of what once was.  But next it was on to wine tasting and I noticed our bus became a little louder with each increasing stop.  The Germans (whom we did not know were German) started to unwind and practice their English.  People began chatting with each other more freely and let down their guards.  By the time we broke for lunch folks were pretty well “loosened up.”  My husband likes sweet, white wines and I prefer heavy reds so we kept switching in mild embarrassment after we were given a glass to sample.  Everyone ambled out in the sunshine to feed the turtles in one of the vineyard’s ponds and I remember thinking it was awfully quiet on the way back.  We had a great day, full of beauty and discovery; learning and adventure.  I’d say we painted the town red.

It was day four of our trip and we decided to head out to Chinatown.  I had seen Chinatowns in Vancouver, New York, and even Montreal but San Francisco boasted the oldest in North America as well as the largest Chinese community outside Asia.  I was worried about seeing dead animals hanging from windows and I am GREATLY relieved to report I never saw any, thank the Lord.  We passed under the famous green Dragon Gate flanked by massive Foo Dogs; Imperial guardian lions.  Tourists were milling up and down the steep street in and out of shops jammed with all kinds of goods made in China.  Colored parasols blocked ceilings, tiny goldfish resided in delicate blue and white porcelain bowls, and “Fortune Cat” figurines were everywhere.  I have read the calico is considered to be the luckiest.  The white represents happiness, purity, and positive things to come.  Black is supposed to ward off evil spirits.  Gold is for wealth and prosperity.  Green is for good health and red means success in love and relationships.  I had also wondered about the significance of why some of their paws were raised — I saw right, left, and even both in the air.  Every time I’d ask all I could get in reply was “Lucky Money Cat” and I guess they figured that’s all I needed to know.  We saw jade, silk, and long, winding red paper dragons alongside delicate hanging lanterns in every color.  Outside I gave cash (SO GLAD I remembered to bring some again!) to an elderly man playing my favorite, the Chinese violin.  In addition, he was effortlessly coaxing one of my most beloved classical pieces from its strings; French composer Camille Saint-Saens’ “The Swan.”  He played passionately and with an expert gentleness that suggested either years of practice or great innate talent.  Regardless, I felt my little acquisition of a “lucky cat” had already benefitted me, even though it did not bring me any money.  Some things are priceless … like coming out on a sunny day and listening to the painfully beautiful strains of an exquisite piece of music being carried on the wind.  The American playwright Tennessee Williams once said, “Luck is believing you’re lucky.”  I agree.  And with my handsome husband by my side I was lucky indeed.

The third day we headed out to the Japanese Tea Garden.  Part of Golden Gate Park, it was originally built during the World’s Fair in 1894.  It is the oldest Japanese garden in the United States with a complex of paths, ponds, and a teahouse featuring plants and trees pruned and arranged in the Japanese style.  Its three acres contain statuary and structures influenced by Buddhist and Shinto beliefs as well as many elements of water and rocks to create a calming landscape.  All this was ours to enjoy on this morning and with no entry fees.  Dallas could learn something from them.  This wooden moon bridge was placed with a high arch so its reflection in the still water forms a circle, symbolizing the moon.  And from the moon to the tides, we wound up with a stunning view of the ocean for lunch.  Seated behind floor-to-ceiling glass, we saw blue sky, rolling white waves, and several giant Seal Rocks rising up out of the sea.  The historic restaurant was literally as far as one can go on the West Coast — Land’s End — and the views of the Pacific were magnificent.  It was made all the more lovely because this day was our anniversary.  I always search for some place special or unusual in some way to celebrate and for dinner we ate at Forbes Island.  Built in 1975 by a millionaire houseboat designer, it was a private home opened to public dining in 1980.  As we are both children of the ’70’s, it had all the swank of our early childhood (oh yeah) and we LOVED it!  A sharp dressed captain in a little boat took us out and we were warmly greeted as soon as we set foot on board.  We actually dined below deck and could see fish swimming outside of the portholes.  The bar was fabulous, as was the service and the food.  Walking around was an absolute blast.  Above board it had sand, a waterfall, and actual palm trees growing!  Plus we got to go all the way up the winding spiral staircase to the top of the 40 foot working lighthouse!  It is the only privately built lighthouse in the United States and is equipped with a lens made in France dating back to 1820.  This place was probably the best we have ever chosen to spend our anniversary dinner in the now nine years we have been married.

“In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures, life may perfect be.” ~ 17th century English playwright Ben Jonson

It was the perfect end to a perfect day and we were both over the moon bridge.

Our second day we headed out to the famous Pier 39.  My favorite hands down was watching the lounging sea lions sunbathing on barges, bellies up, whiskers out and sometimes barking at an occasional wanna be interloper.  I loved that they were FREE and just chose to congregate there.  I’ve never been a huge people watching fan, but I could have observed them for hours.  I chose this picture because of my website and blog:  a carousel with seashells.  It had two stories and was absolutely magical.  I adored the ones in Paris, but this one was so unique with all the sea creatures painted on it.  I have a fond memory of riding this with my husband despite the fact that we had no children.  We had a wonderful time shopping and even saw a Zoltar fortune teller machine.  It was absolutely FREEZING — in June! — and Burk bought me a beautiful red wool Peruvian cape which I literally lived in for the rest of the trip.  American writer Mark Twain did NOT say, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”, but I can certainly believe someone did!  It was even colder here at this time of year than in Quebec City!  But it made for a wonderful respite against the brutal Texas heat and humidity so I did not mind at all.  I remember joking the next time I would be able to wear my cape was at Christmas — and it was!  Even then Dallas still was not as cold.  We visited the Ghiradelli Chocolate Company and walked along the boardwalk.  It was an unstructured, leisurely day and we had a lovely time … on Pier 39.

Having run out of French-speaking places to visit for our wedding anniversary (within reason; we hadn’t been to Bora Bora) my husband asked where I would like to go to celebrate our third which was in 2010.  Since I love St. Francis of Assisi I thought it would be cool to visit the city who bears his namesake.  On our first day Burk really wanted to visit Alcatraz.  Oh the DREAD; I would have truly — and I mean this — rather have had a root canal than go to some horrible old prison; I could not think of anything worse!  But in a marriage one compromises.  I want him to go places with me with a CHEERFUL heart — not just begrudgingly go just to be going — and so I resolved to do the same for him.  Alcatraz:  WHO KNEW?!  I had so many beautiful pictures I could not choose one for this blog.  The first thing in the morning we went down to the docks, got our tickets, and boarded the ferry that would take us to the island.  As we approached I saw all these Native American signs and symbols.  Graffiti was scrawled in greeting saying, “Indians welcome” and “Free” was written into the stripes of the American flag painted underneath the wings of an eagle.  I was confused and intrigued.  When we landed, I found myself anxious to look around.  The small island was developed with facilities for a lighthouse, military fortification, military prison and eventually a federal prison (the only thing of which I knew).  But beginning in November of 1969, for more than 19 triumphant months, the abandoned island was occupied by a group of Native Americans who were part of a wave of Indian activism across the nation, with public protests throughout the 1970’s.  Now managed by the National Park Service, it is the site of the oldest operating lighthouse on the West Coast and has, to my utter amazement, become a protected sanctuary for seabird colonies of western gulls, cormorants, and egrets!  And therein I found my joy.  My husband thought the tour inside interesting but I chose to stay outside with the tangy sea air blowing my hair, white waves crashing against the rocks, and the sounds of all kinds of seabirds creating a sort of soothing cacophony.  Rising to heights of nearly 100 feet, the cliffs provide nesting and roosting sites for pigeon guillemots, cormorants, and several different types of gulls.  I took an incredible photo of a nesting Great Black-backed Gull (the largest gull in the world!) but she did not take too kindly to the invasion so I quickly moved on.  There is also a nesting habitat of agave that provides for night herons.  Gardens planted by families of the original Army post and later by families of prison guards were discovered and are being restored to their natural state.  In clearing out the overgrowth workers found many of the original flora were growing right where they had been planted more than 100 years earlier.  Numerous heirloom rose hybrids, including a Welsh rose believed to have been extinct, have been discovered and propagated.  There were a lot of different types of roses, succulents and more growing among manicured gardens of cutting flowers as well as wild sections of native grasses with blackberry and honeysuckle.  It was a nature lover’s delight and a true treasure all out of what was once solid rock.  The world renowned German born theoretical physicist Albert Einstein once said:

“Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.”

Little did I know at the beginning of our day I would have such a wonderful experience with the beauty of nature and Native pride all on what I assumed was a God-forsaken island in the middle of San Francisco.  I left my heart…

San Antonio’s river has long held a special place in my heart.  We have taken riverboat rides during the day and at night.  Both have their charms, but for me nighttime is when it truly becomes enchanted.  I had been in spring and summer, but NOTHING compared with Christmas time on the river.  Thousands of lights dipped and swayed gracefully from the tops of mighty, old cedars and the air was crisp rather than humid.  Cruises are about 35 minutes long and cover one and a half miles of the beautiful San Antonio River Walk.  This trip we took spoiled me forever.  The river was decorated in all her finery, and did she ever shine!  I had difficultly listening to the snippets of history being given by our barge driver as I was so completely dazzled by all the lights.  It was simply the most exquisite thing I had ever seen.  One could hear the lap of the river against the boat and strains of (my favorite!) mariachi music has we floated by.  This was one of those rare times I simply let go.  I tried to let the sights and sounds wash over me as we made our way around.  The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus once said:

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

I have stepped “in” the San Antonio River a young girl with both of her beloved parents, a married woman, and a mother.  All were precious and each different.  I hope the next time I set foot upon the river I am happier, stronger, and better.  The precious memories of my parents I carry with me always, and I hope they continue to my little one as well.  I wish for her memories to be as magical as mine.