This weekend Kyle and Camille came up to visit with their significant others. The occasion? Our first annual lobster feed. Yes, it was such a success that we decided to make it an annual event.
Kyle & Ana picked up Camille & Cody Friday night on their way over from San Francisco. They arrived just before the pizza place closed. Saturday, we headed over to Renwood for lunch and wine tasting.
Kyle, Ana, Camille, Cody
Afterward, the kids continued down the wine trail while Brett and I headed to the market to pick up the seafood for dinner. Brett set up the burner and pot in the garden -- it was far too large to fit on the BBQ.
I layered in artichokes and potatoes, with water, wine and aromatics (lemon, celery, garlic, thyme).
I added in sausages, lobster tails, prawns, mussels and corn. We had a table set up in the garden (covered with butcher paper), tunes playing, SF sourdough brought over by Kyle and Ana, and wine on ice.
When the mussels had opened, Brett poured it all down the center of the table.
We had no plates, no utensils -- just bibs and fingers and lots of melted butter. It was amazing.
Sunday, we headed up into the Sierras with the kayaks.
After a quick dinner of BBQ burgers and watermelon, the kids piled into Kyle's car and headed home.
Have you heard of it? Forest bathing? I heard a story about it on the radio; I think the practice started in Japan -- if I remember correctly (which is always up for debate).
Its not what you think; or, what I thought when I first heard the term. You don't go into the woods and take a bath, or swim in a pond, or submerge yourself in water at all.
Rather, its bathing in the sense that you let the forest wash over you, seep into your pores, and settle in your heart. It's not about exercise; climb every mountain and all that. It is about taking deep breathes of fresh air and being still. Studies have shown that forest bathing lowers blood pressure, reduces stress, and instills a sense of well-being. (Well, duh, I thought).
This month has been beyond stressful for me. I've needed my garden and the horses and the forest. And Brett, of course. He's been incredibly supportive. We've taken the kayaks to a lake every weekend. Last weekend, we went to Echo Lake which is near Lake Tahoe. It was beautiful, but it was also packed with people. Cars were parked on top of each other, blocking the road, for a good mile. There is a trail head at the lake which leads to many trails; short day hikes and long backpack trips to lakes deeper in the Sierra. The lake itself, wasn't crowded. But it was choppy and windy and that, combined with all the people, made it pretty much impossible to relax and refresh.
Today, we tried another new lake. Woods Lake is very high -- up at 8200 feet. The lake is very small and quite shallow. No motor boats are allowed at all; not even fishing boats. Despite that, the lake was dotted with fishermen in canoes, rowboats, kayaks and on the shore. Schools of trout streamed under our kayaks, speckled brown, slipping and sliding beneath us.
We paddled over to the far side of the lake where granite cliffs rose from the snow, still deep at their base, to jagged peaks and ridges. Waterfalls coursed and tumbled and sang on their way down.
A large beaver dam rose out of the water on our right, close to another waterfall behind the reeds and rushes. After we finished paddling and loaded the kayaks on the car, we walked up a trail to get closer.
We learnt that there is a trail that crosses the stream at the bottom of the lake, and climbs up and around, passing by two more lakes before returning on the opposite side of lake. We made a promise to come back and spend the day on that trail.
As we paddled and drifted on the glassy surface of the lake, I closed my eyes and felt the sun warm, the breeze cool and the hint of a thunderstorm on its way in. I breathed in Ponderosa and cedar and reeds. And I felt my worries drift away on the wings of the osprey that soared above us.
Kyle and his girlfriend, Ana, came up Saturday. We did a little wine tasting that afternoon and then went to a lobster feed at the neighboring winery in the evening.
It was like a clam bake; we sat at long tables while big pots full of shrimp, sausage, artichokes, potatoes, corn and lobster bubbled away. Then we were directed to stand back and the contents of the pots were dumped down the middle of the table.
We dove in and got busy peeling shrimp, cracking lobster claws and chomping on the corn. I lost track of how many ears of corn Kyle ate. Kyle and Ana, who had not been to this event before, got right into the spirit of things.
We cleaned up everything.
This is my favorite winery event of the year. Great food, fun, live music and a view of the sun setting over the vineyards.
This morning we took the kayaks up to Jenkinson Lake and paddled around for a few hours; ate a picnic lunch on the shore, then paddled around some more.
1. This morning before work, before the sun came up and melted energy into lethargy, I finished cleaning out the hen house. What a nasty dusty job. My clothes were covered in that fine chicken dust that covers the hen house floor and rafters in silt. I filled the nesting boxes with clean shavings and spread more on the floor. It's hard to think about winter when the days are a scorching 100F, but the hen house is ready nonetheless. Attila the hen is still broody and still aggressively protecting all the eggs (they all lay in the same nesting box).
2. I've been teaching Kersey a new skill and command. In the evenings after chores, I flip my kayak right side up on the front porch, put a dog treat in my pocket and call Kersey. I've taught her that the command "boat" means to jump in the boat. Last night she had it down, sitting calmly while the boat rocked back and forth. Her life jacket came in the mail so we were set. All that was left was for me to get in the boat with her. Unfortunately, that part didn't work so well. Kersey was very good but there just isn't room for my legs and an 80 lb stocky dog. Kersey has hip problems so she doesn't sit straight. She sits at an angle, with her fanny jutting out one direction and her front legs the other. There is not enough room between my legs for her to sit; and no room for me to paddle if she stands. So, she lay across my legs and I rubbed her belly before calling it quits. She won't be a kayaking dog after all which is a disappointment, but we will still take her to the lake for swimming. And now she has a life jacket so she can swim for a really long time.
3. Lucy has designated me as her personal masseuse. She follows me all over the pasture, standing between me and the muck cart; standing between me and piles of manure; standing between me and anything else until I turn and walk to her. I have a space bubble that she is not allowed to enter so she stands at the edge of that imaginary circle and looks at me with intent. I walk up to her and then stand just in front of her chest. Using my stubby fingernails, I rub the underside of her neck, up towards her throat latch and down to her chest. She stretches, and sighs and drops her head on my shoulder. She likes to have her belly and butt scratched too, but her neck is by far her favorite location.
4. Temperatures are supposed to drop tomorrow by 20 degrees due to a storm moving into Northern California from Washington and Oregon. The far north-western corner of the State is expected to get rain; we will not see precipitation -- just some wind and cooler (80s) temperature. Brett and I plan to ride Saturday. On Sunday, Sandy Savage is coming up with her fiance (congratulations!) for lunch and we will work with Lucy in the morning. Lucy is still very sticky/resistant on her right lead canter so I want Sandy's opinion on whether I need to have the other hock injected.
5. Winston is for sale. Although his junior rider loves him to death, he just isn't cut out for dressage. Winston needs to belong to a strong bold eventing rider. He loves to jump, he loves the trail, and he has a lot of talent. He's been winning at dressage shows -- but he gets bored. To be successful in dressage you need a horse who has nice gaits, yes, but even more importantly you have to have a willing partner. Winston isn't willing. He gets bored and then he gets naughty. It isn't fun for either him or his owner. So, if any of you eventers out there are looking for a strong horse, or know of someone who is, take a look at Winston. He's on the DreamHorse website -- a search for Winston Hanovarian Appaloosa brings him right up.
Schooling at Aspen Meadows -- 5-ish years old
More schooling...
Stealing Brett's hat at the Thermal *** show - he nailed his tests despite the freezing temps and icy wind.
At a show earlier this month, with his current owner. He won all his classes.
