Category: Uncategorized

Marian
Doris
Cristy (say it with a Romanian accent: Krrrrrreeeeeesti)

All men.

Professional photo of a kingfisher, left. On the right, a squirrel shaking its head? No, my photo of a kingfisher. Seriously. You can't even tell it's a bird.

After our trip to the Danube Delta, home to over 300 species of birds and one of the best bird-watching places in the world, I have a new appreciation of bird photographers.

It's hella hard to get a good photo of a bird. However, I now know that herons cooperate better than kingfishers.

We took the bird-watching "party" boat out to visit nuns who live at the Saon monastery (shouldn't it be the Saon convent then?) They tend bees, ostriches and a flock of peacocks. They also sell honey, wine, candles and little wooden bracelets. And judging by the number of men hanging out with their shirts off in the sunshine, you can rent cottages and stay on the peaceful grounds. One young nun's family was visiting.

Our little group did not stay with the nuns. For $75 a night, we roughed it at the five star Delta Danube Resort.  We enjoyed the gorgeous pool and the dining room's large balcony with constant entertainment: great egrets circling and landing in the water below us and sunset and moonrise over the delta. When I close my eyes now, this is what I see.

The Danube Delta has been given World Heritage status. I think bird photographers deserve the same.

The other night over mind-blowing Thai food, we wracked our salmon curry-addled brains to remember the places we've stayed, people we've visited, the things that have defined the summers home for the last seven (7!) years.

Moon over the Napa River.

We will remember this summer 2012 trip home because:

We started in Paris with Grammie and stayed in that guy's apartment with the Jack Daniel's themed bathroom.

We celebrated Stefan's birthday with an ice cream cake at Villa Aunt Valerie and Uncle Bob. We met 3 month old Tatum, and Jayne was 2 and Tyler was 4 and Natalie and Dave showed Peter a photo on their iPhone and said, "What's wrong with Natalie?" and it was an ultrasound photo of my newest family-member to be.

Mike and Tanya let us move in, and Elliott was there finishing his first year of university and Stefan says he wants to go to U.C. Davis too.

Mom and her bf drama.

I went to North Carolina with four of my best friends I'd never been in the same room with all at once and we sang Jesus Take the Wheel.

I briefly visited my sister city of Seattle.

We had a great time, as always, with the Palmers at their cabin in Tahoe, and I have the bruises to prove it.

Peter brushed his teeth with anti-itch cream and never felt better.

The London Olympics, "Go Gabby!"

At the Del Monte Shopping center, Camille helped Stefan pick out his first pair of glasses.

Outlander. The most I've ever enjoyed reading 900-page novels entirely with a Sean Connery accent. Thank ye Emily for my latest addiction. Peter is going to love the kilt he's getting for Christmas.

We stayed one night at a hotel with a bunch of bikers. In its defense, it did have free breakfast at Denny's. That was in Napa, where these photos were taken.

I thought the highlight of the day would be the Berte Morisot exhibit, but no, it was when Stefan found a Bulgari bracelet in front of Notre Dame.

Or it was when Peter nearly kicked the guy who wouldn't get his feet out of this photo we were trying to take at the star in the very center of Paris. That's why Peter only has one foot in the photo–he was donkey-kicking a guy with the other foot. Also, since when do people put coins in the star?

Grammie walked an insole out her shoe. I think that's proof that we've sufficiently dragged her around Paris. More proof:

Camille and I got lost, but since then (read: wine) I've concluded that an hour lost in the 4th arrondissment is better than knowing where you are for days in some places.

The highlight tomorrow is suppose to be the trip to the Eiffel tower for the boat ride on the Seine, but we'll see.

I spent the afternoon poking through art supply stores on a Harry-Potter-Diagon-Alley kind of street called Hanal cu Tei in Lipscan, everyone's favorite neighborhood.

In this neighborhood, run down buildings stand next to refurbished ones, shabby belle-epoch chic dominates the mood. The stores and cafes that are open are busy, street muscians draw a pretty good crowd. At an artisan-kind-of market you can buy honey and homemade soaps, hand-knitted socks and, from an old man wearing a tie and sweater vest, funny decorated gingerbread cookies. 

Some of the streets are being re-cobble-stoned. I heard that a Spanish company won the bid to do the re-cobble-stoning. They came in and tore out all the old, real cobblestone, which they sold. Now they are repaving with cobblestones made of new cement. Romania. It's sad sometimes. That could be their tourism slogan.

Then on the way home, my taxi driver wanted to discuss whether God intervenes in the requests of humans, or is prayer a form of auto-suggestion. He believes in prayer because he feels the answers from God! Then he asked where I've traveled in Romania and he was super excited to hear that I'd recently come back from Lake Balae. 

He has seen yeti there! Well, he hasn't seen him with his own eyes, but he took photos there, and when he looked at the photos later, yeti is in them! Well, not yeti, but bears with lights coming out of their eyes! He told me he has seen yeti twice–with his "photographic eyes"–and that I should look through my photos of Lake Balea very carefully.

I don't know about the Lake Balea photos, but I think I see yeti in the lower left of the photo I took at the cookie stand! That's creepy!

We spent a long time throwing snowballs onto the frozen lake, then listening for the echo. Click on the photo to pretend you are there.

This homeleave has gone SO fast. The blissful QM2 trip home was followed by NYC for a day, then 4th of July fireworks from the very cool lake-front cabin my sister hooked us up with at Donner Lake. We brought my mom up to Tahoe and the first morning here we heard that Peter's niece, our sweet Emily, had died, which has colored our entire trip blue.

Peter took off to see his family, then came back in time for a visit with our "old" friend Gina and her new husband. We all visited the dentist, typical home-leave-work. Then Peter and Stefan flew to San Diego and Stefan's dream: Legoland. A hike in the Sierras and then I got my new blue bike, which I brought to Tahoe. By myself for a few days I rode and ran, I think as much as during the two-week Triathlon! Only outside and with a lake view or surrounded by 100 kinds of Sierra wildflowers.

Peter and Stefan went to a motorcycle race. Camille — with 88-year-old-Grammie at the wheel! — went up to Oregon for a sweaty week with her race-horse training cousin, and got to know some family along the way. A burrito bowl from Chipotle and an Anthropologie side-trip later, I was back in Tahoe, playing Words With Friends, and listening to our friend's band, lakeside.

A couple days later we saw those same friends, Luanne and Evan, and they took our kids to Marin for a few days of constant drumming and s'mores. Then, a last weekend with Ludmilla, Sonja and Mary, Emily's nearest. Blueberry galette, bbq chicken, and today, a final hike around the lake and a swim.

We love it here, the frozen yogurt place and bears wandering the woods and the condo we rented, so clean and cheerful, with a swimming pool that has a resident bunny. I hope we can buy a place in Tahoe someday, but not until the prices have gone as far down as they can possibly go. And then I want a place like this, where in the morning I hear coyotes howling like loons and chipmunks scurrying around and around the pine trees and blue jays.

The Washoe said that The Lake of the Sky rejuvenates the spirit. I think not only the lake, but also the sourdough bread from Truckee Bakery and the zillion stars in the sky.

Summer isn't over, we have Washington DC still to come before the mystery of Bucharest; I hope your days are full of these kinds of blue skies and that like Peter, your iPhone works after you take it kayaking.

Have amazing blue/green eyes that are almost scary.

Crochet gifts for friends and read all of Dickens by age 9.

No matter how late you've stayed up the night before drinking apricot beer, show up to work at the bakery at 5 am with immaculately beautiful braided blond hair. 

Play the bass as a teen-ager.

Have a great stomach and be fabulously thin and gorgeous always, but never think you look good at all.

Look good wearing an apron.

Get a bracelet of poison ivy tattooed on your wrists to hide the scars.

Be a bug-bite magnet.

Remind everyone that everything is bullshit.

Have an adorable lisp as a little one so that 30-some years later we still refer to "pe-othed e-ors" when buying earrings.

Be a technophobe and try to convince everyone you know of all the things you can't do, while doing everything you do impeccably well, including: decorating your house, making croissants from scratch and carving your own temporary teeth out of fimo clay.

Enjoy your infants.

Get your house ready for Christmas like it is the most important thing in the world.

Be a really good hugger.

Thank you for the blog idea thelipstickchronicles.com.