Laptop on the Fritz

We have had a Chocolate Milk Incident with our keyboard. Since it is in the shop, it will be a week or two while we wait for repairs. We will get back to you then and let you know how we are doing!

San Francisco and Santa Cruz

After leaving the foothills of Sacramento, it was late, so we made our way to Vallejo and decided to park it for the night. Yes, I know, Vallejo. Only an hour or so past the Mechanic, but it was symbolic of the fact that we were actually on our way. We found our hotel online while at the mechanic for extremely low points on one of our hotel plans, which was basically free for us. The kids seemed happy that we were on our way and at a hotel again. It kind of shocked me, since they had so much fun with their cousins, but I guess they do have a bit of adventure in them after all. We spent the evening watching the kids doing their usual jumping from one queen bed to the next while we glanced at each other acknowledging our exhaustion, dreaming of sleep.

The next morning, we were ready to roll back up north. No, not all the way back north. On our way to the hotel, we had passed the Jelly Belly Factory in Fairfield. We just couldn’t resist a free tour at a candy factory, so we headed back north for just a few miles and took a tour. What fun! We were greeted at the door by giant Jelly Belly people who gave the kids free Jelly Bellys. There was a visiting company, Longaberger Baskets and the kids got to see and try out how to weave one of these baskets while we waited for our tour to begin. The tour was fun and interesting, however, if you go on a weekend, you see the machinery, but not in action and there are no factory workers. They have videos for you to watch at each station to show how they make the candy with the vacant machines, and it is pretty cool. At the end you get more free candy, while making your way to the sample area, where you can then taste any flavor bean they make, along with a few other candies. If you haven’t heard of Bertie Bott’s Beans from Harry Potter, they are disgusting flavors from the mind of JK Rowling such as earwax, dirt, boogers and even vomit and rotten egg. Jelly Belly decided this was too good of a sell and actually makes these flavors for Harry Potter fans. We just couldn’t resist trying free samples of them. I was only brave enough to try the soap and earthworm, husband (still waking up with coffee in hand) said no way, while the boys were daring each other to eat boogers and vomit. We all laughed so much! How did they taste? Disgusting as promised, with a hint of sugar. The kids each bought a small bag of their favorite flavors, none of which were the Bertie Bott’s, and we all left smiling.

San Francisco was next on our path. Our original goal was to spend the day going to the Exploratorium and then going to the park near Crissy Field, and a stop at Fisherman’s Wharf for lunch. One thing you have to know is our Eurovan is tall and long. We measured close to 9 feet with our rack on top, and with 4 bikes hooked up to the hitch in the back, we are not at a size where we can easily park, especially in garages and parallel parking in the city. It was lunchtime and we were ready to eat. I headed toward the Wharf, but because it was Saturday, it was busy. We all know that traveling to see tourist spots without crowds is always better during the week, but timing had us in one of the world’s biggest tourist cities on a Saturday. At least it was still winter, which definitely kept some of the crowds away. As we explored for a parking space, we headed down a back road and found a metered double spot and parked. Right next to it was a hotel with a restaurant. Not being a tourist destination, it was dead inside at the lunch hour. Perfect, we said, and headed in for a quiet lunch.

Next, we had to find our way to the north end of the city in the Marina district. It was a beautiful day and decided to go to the park first. It was also a bit crowded, but we parked away from the harbor, got out our bikes and took our very first family bike ride ever with the Golden Gate Bridge showing off in the background. It was magical. We road all the way to the end of Crissy Field, stopped to watch the surfers, stopped on the way back to play on the sandy beach and didn’t leave until the rain clouds got so dark and serious, we had no choice. We were all packed up again just in time as the rain began to fall. We all decided it was our best trip to San Francisco. The Exploratorium was forgotten.

It rained our whole way to Los Gatos, a fancy little place that is the last stop before heading over the mountains to Santa Cruz on Hwy 17. We drove into Los Gatos, hoping to find a quick inexpensive meal. Quick and inexpensive are contrary to the way of life in this town, which we realized as we were stuck in traffic trying to drive down main street. Not only was it Saturday night, but it was close to 7. We knew we would never find a place to eat that we could bring our dirty-back-from-biking selves respectfully to. On our way back to the freeway, our lucky stars found us a taqueria. We stopped and ran through the rainy parking lot towards the place and found that this was no taco stand. This was $10 per ala carte plate of food, that’s right, no rice and beans on the side and chips are extra. Everyone was dressed up, even here, but there were a lot of kids signaling to us that this was “Los Gatos casual”. So we ate quickly and drove through the rain, down the winding Hwy 17 to Santa Cruz. When we arrived we drove by a few hotels with the red “no” lit up next to the vacancy signs and having no luck, we began calling hotels. After about 8 phone calls, we were thrilled to find our beds for the night in Scott’s Valley.

The rain was pouring down, and even worse, the forecast showed that it would stay that way all the way down the entire coast for close to a week. Camping was not an option yet. The next morning we began calling around for weekly rates in the area. We found (and highly recommend) the Rio Sands Motel. It is in Aptos, just south of Santa Cruz about 5 miles. It is a quiet town away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Santa Cruz, and the rooms are inexpensive and simple (ours had a full kitchen and two rooms), but there are two hot tubs and what they call a heated pool, and it’s only a block from a fantastic beach. Husband worked hard getting our roof carrier off the top, bikes off the back and everything out and drying under the patio while the rain poured and poured.

Our week in the Santa Cruz area was peaceful and memorable. Husband and I met almost 11 years ago at the Fogbank in Capitola, just a mile north of Aptos, so it keeps a special place in our hearts. Everyday we were able to ride bikes down the beach, sit in the hot tub while the kids swam in the freezing pool. By the end of the week, we were enjoying the warmth of the sun and lying out by the pool working out of our Washingtonian white skin. We spent a lot of time thinking about staying another week. Although our comfort was high, something down deep was pressing us forward. Maybe it was the idea that we were trying to run away from comfort. Put ourselves into simpler situations where we have to try to become more creative and work together to see what else this world is for, besides sitting around the pool, soaking in the hot tub, and riding bikes along the beach. Maybe we have just lost our mind, but we left luxury to try our luck at camping.

How One Week Turns into Three

We found our way to my sister’s home in Roseville, California on Thursday. It was late, we were tired and it felt good to be in a home, and out of the one room, bleachy hotels. The cousins ran out to meet us. I knew the kids were going to have fun while we were there, they always did. My sister and I were pregnant twice together. We both have a 5 and 8 year old, though mine are boys and hers are girls. She also has an older son, who is 12. The best part is that all of the kids, including the older boy, play so well together, you would think that they were best friends, instead of family that only sees each other once or twice a year. We all agree, it’s magic.

When they asked how long we would be visiting, we said about a week. That was our plan anyway. While we were there, we thought the kids would enjoy learning a bit about the Gold Rush of 1848, and use the fact that we were in a shopping Mecca, to buy a few missing items, like sleeping bags, a tent, and salt and pepper shakers. Learning about how to use our camper van was another goal. We had never taken the bed down in the van, and our fears of being comfortable sleeping in it had grown. We decided we would also learn to turn on the heater, use the sink, clean out the water tank, fill up the propane tank, get the fridge going, and fire up the stove before we left. Just a short list should we need to fix anything before we begin camping in the van... should that ever actually happen.

I have to say the idea of living in the Eurovan at that point was pretty abstract. I mean we had been talking about it for so long. Planning and scheming for so long, and then finding that we were into February and we still hadn’t camped once. Not even as a trial run. I was beginning to wonder if going to Spain was the better idea. Especially after mid-week, the check engine light came on. We had just had that fixed 3 weeks ago before we left Washington. Even though we were frustrated, we decided to take it in, just in case. The mechanic said he couldn’t get us in until Friday. Fine we thought. The kids were having a blast and I still hadn’t spent much time with my family, so we would extend our trip until the following Monday.

It is always so weird living with someone else. Your own family routines stop, and you begin living life as they do. The kids were getting up at 5:30 and 6 everyday with the cousins to hang out with them before they went off to school. Then my husband or I was up early to cook breakfast for them, because unlike my sister’s children, my children didn’t take the initiative to make their own breakfast. Then the television was re-introduced into our lives, and we learned about every show on the Disney Channel. Their 5 year old was in Preschool and was home in a couple of hours, so we would have the kids busy on their workbooks, so they would be done before anyone was home from school. It was then that the issue of how we would homeschool finally came up.

If you are thinking about homeschooling, one important step is talking to your spouse about how you are going to approach it. Strangely, since my husband worked so many hours in our previous life, he just said he trusted me and aside from a few concerns, it was never really a problem. Now that he had been home since January, turmoil had been brewing. I had read around 12 books on different ways to homeschool before I started, and decided that unschooling with a splash of Montessori style curriculum was how we would be most successful. My husband, who was very unsure of unschooling, and hadn’t had the time to read any books on the subject, decided that the kids needed to be working 2-3 hours per day, minimum working on workbooks. Our fights began early, and since our children’s education has always been a sensitive spot for him (always wishing he had done more, himself) it wasn’t easy for us to have a relaxed conversation about the different approaches to homeschooling. So everyday, we set up the kids up to work, and after a few pages in one subject, I was happy with their work, and sent them off to explore and play. My husband was not, and the argument would begin.

I guess it is not just homeschooling really, but taking an adventure like this is really a sample of retirement life. It is not easy to bring together a married couple who have not been living the same life. They have had the same goals, yes, but the same life, no. One had to stay at home to raise the children, pay the bills, take care of the home, make the family social calendar, therapist and cheerleader to everyone in the family, and basically in charge of life at home, for the whole family- the governor of many. The other works hard in the business world, taking on corporate games, pushing for promotions, and fighting for more money while constantly proving how wonderful he is to everyone around him, basically in charge of his own personal life, so he can support the family- the big man on campus, or as we say, BMOC. No wonder so many older couples have such a huge transition into retirement. We had only been living this lifestyle for 8 years and we were struggling. All of a sudden, the BMOC is home everyday and looking to improve or promote his way of life and all of those around him. His style is abrupt, it seems to the governor, and by the way, who is he to question the organization style at home that the governor has so carefully and thoughtfully put together over time? BMOC, meanwhile is ready to take on this new company and bring it to the next level of efficiency, as he announces with a smile of determination, “Things are going to change around here!” Of course, the governor, thinks things are just fine, at least they were before he was here. BMOC continues to fight for his leadership and show how wonderful he is and wonders why he is not seen as a genius with his new ideas, and feels he is due for a promotion anyday, and that maybe the governor doesn’t truly realize how great his work and ideas are. He wonders why she just doesn’t get it.

All I can say is it takes a lot of conversations. Once a cheerleader and therapist, now I am having to stand on my own feet and try out BMOC confidence and leadership strategies about things that I feel strongly about. And BMOC has had to stop fighting and try to listen more like a therapist, and be supportive and cheerlead our efforts. So we talked and talked and talked together about our ideas and fears and found a middle ground. Two subjects most days for the boys and a bit more time spent, but joy in unschooling the rest of the day in peace. For now, there is harmony on the homeschool front.

Someone had asked me about how the kids are doing and at this point, aside from missing their friends back home, they are thrilled to be here. So far the whole trip has been candy coated in the idea that we were on our way to see family. In fact, the kids were so happy that my oldest had started planning our move to Roseville. It doesn’t rain much in the Sacramento area and riding bikes is almost an everyday activity and our cousins and grandparents are here, so we need to move to Roseville, right? “No,” I tell them. “Sadly, I do not want to live in the hot weather, and the beautiful days you are enjoying are those of February.” I said, “Soon, around May, it will begin to fire up to 85 and up and a month or more of the summer is playing around the 100 degree mark with a week or more over a blistering 110. I just need to live where it is cooler,” I tell them. “But we like the heat,” they try to tell me. “No you don’t,” I remind my Washingtonian children. “When it gets above 85, you both complain about the heat, and,” I tell my younger one, “you are always complaining about the sun in your eyes. You like the cold and wish for snow days which doesn’t happen around here.” “Yes, but we could get used to it,” they tell me. “Yes, you could,” I tell them, “but I do not want to live around here anymore, I did for 18 years and that was enough for me, for now. However, we may live somewhere closer to the area so that we can visit more, somewhere cooler, with more trees.” I look at their faces and it seems their ideas are crushed and I feel their frustration. It doesn’t seem to make sense to them. They want a home in a fun place and they want to move somewhere where people already love them, and a little more sun couldn’t hurt anyone.

Though a previous ban on real estate conversations had been in place, Husband and I began the discussions about where we could possibly find a home closer to this area. We spotted amazing land and homes all around Gold Country, but kept telling ourselves that it is only February and we are not getting a realistic temperature picture of this area. Next stop is the coast, and we will look around there as well.

Since the Eurovan repair place is about a 40 minute drive from my sisters, we were unable to take it in on Friday as planned, and we pushed it into Monday. Monday came and went, and you guessed it, parts needed to be ordered. “They will be here on Wednesday and the car will be fixed the same day,” they said. “Go ahead,” we told them. Wednesday came and the parts came, but they were not the right parts. “Friday,” they said extremely apologetically, “the parts will be right, and you will be on your way.” With a strange sinking feeling, we said, “Okay.” Of course on Friday, we were told how unbelievably sorry they are that again the parts are not the right parts, and he promises he will personally go out to find the right parts and Saturday the van would be ready, for sure.

On the family front, my dad’s birthday was upon us, and my brother-in-law had decided to surprise my sister with a weekend away, and we assured we could watch the kids, and of course, my sister had the next week off, and we should stay to hang out, right? So we stayed, even though the car was fixed Saturday as planned. We stayed, had fun and celebrated, but during it all, something unbelievably unbelievable happened. The check engine light came on again! Can you hear me just freaking out?

This time we were done. We decided forget it! We are not going to take it in again to the We-don’t-know-our-parts Mechanics. On the other hand, when we called, they graciously said they would check it out for free and we realized we would be foolish to not let them take another look. And when they did, yes! Yes! Yes! We needed to order new parts, which would just be a couple of days. I began to sing the song, “We are never leaving, weeeee are never leeeeaving!” Monday we packed up, left my sister’s house and went to stay with my parents. Tuesday we all went to Auburn and Coloma to follow the Gold Rush Trail. The kids had fun panning for gold, walking through a mine, seeing the artifacts of the Native Americans called the Culumas and the miners who came to the area, a real blacksmith and Sutter’s Mill on the beautiful American River. We read sign after sign on how James Marshall, who was contracted by John Sutter to build his mill, discovered the gold in the river bed and had it shouted around the world. It was strange how he died very poor as a fruit farmer, or was it? My younger son, who was the most excited about the Gold Trail, was extremely disappointed about not finding any gold for himself. We explained that he was not unlike a lot of the miners who came out here 150 years ago. Most were disappointed and left broke. This seemed to calm him. After a nice long day out in the Gold Country with the Grandparents, we turned to the children and asked who first discovered gold on the American River? I don’t know, they told us. Well, at least they improved their skills at skipping stones.

Ah, Thursday Morning, the parts were due in, the right parts, they told us. We said our goodbyes to all and since my brother lived near the mechanic, we stayed with him during the wait for the parts to arrive. Finally at 1, we were told the parts were in, and it should only take an hour. We decided to wait at the mechanics, and leave from there. At 3, we were ready to roll. We couldn’t believe it! We drove off, with our Willie Nelson CD blasting the faithful, “On the Road Again,” (which we had begin playing everytime we left a town and the kids loved it) honking our horn as we left, of course the mechanic had told us of a used bike store a few blocks away, and since my husband still had no bike yet, we decided to look. True to the irony of life, he found one, which needed a tune up, and they only took cash. We actually had to drive back past the mechanic to go back to our bank and then wait for the bike to be tuned. We quickly decided the song would only be played once we actually were on the freeway leaving town for a better effect. At close to 5, that is what we did. We were finally leaving town, ready to begin our adventure south, living in the van, and blasting Willie.

“Like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway.”