Jeanie and Charles

Vivian, my wonderful mother was, among many things, an avid Scrabble player.   When she developed rheumatoid arthritis, at 49 years old, she saw it as a life-changing obstacle she had to overcome-- which she did in great style.  She went back to college and got her degree, helped form and chaired the Arthritis Club in Santa Barbara, became an expert gardner, took a 3 week tour of Europe, and joined the Scrabble club in Monterey...in between 21 joint replacements over the span of 30 years.
She attacked Scrabble like she did everything else in her life--with great enthusiasm.  And all was fine except she would not play Scrabble with me.  She claimed I could read her mind and I always knew just exactly where she was planning to play next.

But she had a favorite opponent--an exceptionally good friend named Jeanie, that she truly loved--either for playing Scrabble with--or for talking about ex-husbands. When mother died and I moved away from Monterey, I lost track of Jeanie and I was determined to find her again before leaving California.

The Internet is wonderful and has opened many doors for me--not least of which is the one to Jeanie's new home in Templeton just outside of Paso Robles. The first photo above is on the road to Jeanie's house.  I happened along at a time when she had a houseful of family, but the moment I appeared she threw her arms around me and welcomed me in...

The above photo is of her granddaughter, Ellen, on the left, bashful Jeanie in the middle and her daughter, Molly, on the right.

Jeanie is famous for her cooking--beautiful meals cheerfully done, at record speed, for any number of drop-ins.  This was breakfast the first morning. We spent the rest of the day reminiscing about my mother, and playing Scrabble in between Jeanie stirring up another dish or two.  She was especially eager to tell me all about Charles, her new husband, acquired since I had last seen her. Mother would have been very approving of Charles I thought.
And then disaster struck!  As I moved the RV further up their driveway to prepare for the night I discovered a huge puddle--of something--under the RV. Wonderful!  Charles immediately came to the rescue, helping me find a mechanic in town, then escorting me there to make sure the guy did not hoodwink me in any way. It seems the pipe was cracked that leads from my gray and black water holding tanks and would have to be replaced.  I suspect the crack may have occurred when we had the freeze in Tucson and road travel just opened it up more.
Anyway, when the rather grumpy repairman handed me the bill for $300 I whimpered a little about it exceeding my budget--hoping of course for some sympathy--and immediately got a huge growl in return...
''Lady, you should crawl under that monster with only inches between your face and a pipe full of s...t, spend an hour or two and then tell me that $300 isn't the bargain of a lifetime!''
Hmm, I think he has a point there. Charles agreed.

The next morning I said my goodbyes to two of the loveliest and most patient people on this planet--please note the halos over their heads.
And mother, I really couldn't read your mind, but I would gladly let you win if we could play just one more game together.

from Pea Soup Andersons to Solvang

Heading north from Santa Barbara, the freeway hugs the coast with a number of pull-outs and some 'once'-wonderful state parks--right on the water.  However, I checked on two of the parks and found locked gates with no one around.  I fear that this is, once again, the result of budget cuts.  There is just not enough money to staff the parks.  Both state and national parks everywhere I've been show signs of neglect.  If it weren't for the volunteer programs--mainly the retired folk like me acting as hosts and janitors for a free night or two stay--all the lesser parks would simply cease to exist.  At several places I found the 'honor system' with a sign instructing visitors to 'put their money in an envelope and drop it in the box on the door.' At one of those places the box had been broken open and, of course, it was empty.  Am I crazy for thinking parks should be a bigger priority in our nation...

Wow!  Don't get me started now on the conditions of our roads and highways.  And speaking of roads-I took a few side trips along the way--the fields of wild mustard, poppies and thistles were just beautiful and a perfect setting for an afternoon snooze.


The road turned inland at Gaviota and climbed sharply to the tunnel at the summit.  Years ago the kids would get all excited at this juncture of the trip--begging us to stop at Pea Soup Anderson's in Buellton.

  

 
It's funny--I often made pea soup at home but I do not think it was a particular favorite for my kids.  However, this place was their idea of 'haute cuisine'.

When I told my daughter, Janice, that I had stopped there for lunch she asked if their logo was the same--a fat guy with a raised hammer and a little shrimp of a fellow holding the splitter over the pea. 'I always loved that sign,' she said.
'Yep, it's still there.  By the way, do you remember the soup...' I wondered.
'Not really,' she replied.
All you marketers out there--take note.  Hook the kids.  Sell the packaging.  What's inside isn't all that important.  Hmm, I think you knew that already.
 

It is one of the most successful 'Mom and Pop' restaurants in the country and it has hardly changed at all in over 40 years.  I often see their soup in the grocery stores but I still prefer to make my own.
 

In Buellton the menu features 'all-you-can-eat' pea soup accompanied by homemade onion bread.  Years ago it was $5 and now it is $10--while the kids prices still make it a bargain.  I had two bowls full.


It is just a short drive down the road from pea soup to Danish desserts.  Solvang is in the heart of the Santa Ynez valley and looks exactly as if it were designed by Disney--except it wasn't.


Granted, this town of 3000 has its share of t-shirt shops and tacky souvenir stores but the town was actually started over 100 years ago by a handful of Danish families looking for a more gentle climate than the one they'd left behind in Denmark and the mid-west.


What they do have in abundance here is some of the finest bakeries and tea rooms you will find anywhere in the country.  Their pastries are so good that, once upon a time, we featured them in our restaurants in Santa Barbara.


Beautifully clean and well-kept, the architecture of the town feels European.  The Danes are descendants of the original families, and are still the primary business owners.


Son Tom, this one's for you....


When he was 3 or 4 years old, Tom climbed into this shoe and I have a cherished picture of him sitting there and smiling from ear to ear.  I love that the shoe--and the shoe shop--are still there.


But these signs were now popping up everywhere and I knew that I would not be doing any 'stealth parking' in this tiny town for the night.  Time to move on--besides there was a small drip, drip appearing under the RV.  I probably needed a new rubber gasket or some such thing and would
have it looked at in a town further on...

Santa Barbara memories and friends.

It was 1969 when my husband, Roger, baby Tommy and I drove into Santa Barbara.  We immediately decided to make it our home--at least for a while.  We began looking for a restaurant but everything the real estate agent showed us was wrong--wrong size, wrong price, wrong location.  We were about to move on up the coast when Roger had a brilliant idea.  He went to the local bank and asked the manager,  'Is there any restaurant that you are holding that we might take off your hands...'


The banker leaped at the chance.  The restaurant he suggested had been a landmark called The Fig Tree but it had faltered, filed bankruptcy and closed its doors 6 months prior to our arrival.  The price was right, the size was perfect and the location was on the main street--State St--at the upper end of downtown. That giant Moreton Bay Fig Tree you see in the photo above is actually in the very center of the restaurant.


Over the next five years and with the help of many of our family members, the restaurant proved successful.  We also acquired two more kids, a second restaurant and  raised a family of Australian Wallabies in the atrium under that fig tree.


It was sad to see the sign over the door--the restaurant was now a member of a dreaded chain...


Roger would have been terribly disappointed.  But the outdoor patio and flowers were nice.


The second restaurant was called Lafitte's New Orleans Style Restaurant and it proved to be equally popular.


This restaurant overlooked the 'Bird Refuge' and the Sunday afternoon Jam Sessions always drew a crowd.
 

 

The Bird Refuge is still a pretty spot but the restaurant is 'no more'. But at least it is a private club and not a chain.

I had not seen my friend Patty in many years.   It was a fun reunion as I spent two nights camped in front of her lovely house.   She is now a grandmother and....


an avid gardener....

and an artiste extraordinaire, so you can see why I like her so much and have missed her a lot.

  Look very closely at her art work and see if you can discern the materials she uses...

  
It's kelp and drift wood!

Her orchids were spectacular as well.

  
One last stop in Santa Barbara took me to some dear friends of Ron's that live up in the foothills.

   
John Brennand and  

Robin Riblet.

They have been a surrogate family for Ron for many years now and I am so glad to finally meet them. 

Without hesitation, they invited me to dinner, gave me a great spot to park for the night,  entertained me with some good stories, offered their condo in Banff to Ron and myself for the week of July 4th and....

Robin just happened to pull out a wonderful Laurel Burch handbag and presented it to me as a gift! And it is in my favorite colors!  And the picture is of cats! 
What can I say, but WOW! So, Ron, I will see you in Canada--and let me say, you have the absolutely best friends  --ever!

Santa Barbara--the Queen of the Coast

In my book the single most beautiful city on the west coast is Santa Barbara.

It is still a small town in many ways as it continues to resist the onslaught of high rise hotels, fast food chains, strip centers and mega malls.  Granted, there are some there--but you have to seek them out.  They are mostly hidden from view, allowing you to observe the wonderful scenery that unfolds in every block of the city.


It is a city of flowers and fountains, courtyards and red tiled roofs.


State Street is the main thoroughfare that continues  right down to the water....


... ending at Stearns Wharf.


The very heart of downtown invites walking, sitting and visiting with your neighbor.


When we lived here lower State Street was considered to be the 'skid row' of the city...


Hmmm..not any more.


I found a chain store!

 The courthouse is the crown jewel of all Santa Barbara's buildings.

I remember, during the 70's, many protests and demonstrations that took place on the grounds here.


Crowds of young people would come here in droves--singing, chanting, picnicking, making noise and smoking pot.  They were labeled 'trouble-makers', outsiders, dopers, and a nuisance but eventually they were heard--and many things changed partly through their efforts-- the end of a war, laws to protect the environment, and more.


The courthouse was built in 1926 to replace the original building that was damaged by an earthquake.

    

  

Another great landmark of the city is this magnificent Moreton Bay Fig Tree--

From Wikipedia...

Santa Barbara's Moreton Bay Fig Tree located in Santa Barbara, California is believed to be the largest Ficus macrophylla in the country.^[1]

A seaman, visiting Santa Barbara In 1876, presented a seedling of an Australian Moreton Bay Fig tree to a local girl who planted it at 201 State Street. After the girl moved away a year later, her girlfriend, Adeline Crabb, transplanted the tree to the corner of Montecito and Chapala streets...The tree was officially designated as a historic landmark in 1970,  The tree has since been placed on the California Register of Big Trees.

In July 1997 the circumference of the tree at 4-1/2 feet above ground was 498 inches (41-1/2 feet). The average crown spread was 176 feet and the total height was 80 feet. Measured in 2010, the widest spread of the branches is 198 feet (60 m). The trunk diameter above the buttress roots is 12.5 feet.^[2]

For many years the shade of this tree provided shelter for hitchhikers, hippies and the homeless.


But people began to climb into its branches and carve their names into the impressive body of this beautiful icon so there is now a fence around it for protection.  So sad--but necessary.

 

And of course, The Santa Barbara Mission... Founded in 1786.  During the five years we lived here I visited the mission every time we had a visitor--so I decided to skip it this time around.  I had friends to look up and time was getting tight.