Crumbs December 19, 2000 from baking Christmas cookies scatter around our whole household, and I'm smeared with dough even behind ears... but just so you know that despite being busy I keep thinking about you, I present a few "crumbs" from America.

This week was in principle very quiet, I even had a feeling that I would not have anything to write about. Yet quiet does not mean boring, well, judge for yourself.

At the climbing gym I still had some routes to scale from the competition, I tried one of the difficult ones, the which made me think then that if it were not so slimy, I would have made it. Well -- this time I did not even reach the slimy spot, but I'm being justified by the fact that now they classified it as 5.12. It should not surprise me; in competition I always perform one class better than usually. I seem to be running on adrenaline...

On Thursday I accompanied Martina while picking up Madeleine from school, we stopped at Wallgreens on our way there, and I finally located a Christmas tree stand. First I despaired over "traditional" red and green finish of the monster, but Martina reassured me that we can either have a red and green monster, or keep our tree in a bucket, so I bought the thing. Red and green seem to symbolize Christmas here (in me, it invokes the idea of a madhouse), and people tend to buy trees with trunks many inches in diameter, so stands are designed to handle that. Well, I hope that we will be able to find our tiny fir in this stand on Christmas Eve!!!

I unpacked the stand just as I brought it home, glanced over a picture on the box and proceeded to assemle it. After half hour of toil, it began dawning on me that I either did not have the intelligence, or the physical strength to complete it. And so I waited until Sid arrived, for this job was obviously needing some engineering talent (or, perhaps, manly muscles).

Sid muttered something for a while, turning the stand around. Then he grabbed the box and read the DIRECTIONS, which I originally dismissed as unworthy. He ripped all four legs out of the stand's body (it took me much effort to implant them), and he inserted them with their outer ends in. No, I am not this much demented: on the big photograph on the front side of the box, the stand was actually "assembled", more or less, arranged, the way I had it. The manufacturer's photographer himself obviously did not muster such demanding technical task, and so he cheated somehow. And I, a plain housewife, am supposed to figure it out.

Madlenka had midterm exams this whole week, last and only one on Friday, math, and they let her out of the school by eleven. Martina reserved a table at Mandarin Gourmet in Palo Alto, and we had ourselves a ladies-only party. Martina and I had each an extra glass of "plum wine", Madlenka had "only" a lunch.

I can only recommend plum wine. It tastes a bit like juice from preserved plums, but it has as much kick as port. And we really needed it. A moment ago, something unbelievable happended. WE EASILY PARKED A CAR IN PALO ALTO DOWN TOWN. As a matter of fact, we parked right in front of the restaurant. Martina claimed that she had not seen street this empty for twenty years. She quickly tried to remember if they announced in the radio that some catastrophy was coming and all should flee. Our glass of wine, however, dispersed our inappropriate worries.

Nothing dramatic occured, of course. I only discovered that I could not go climbing as planned, for I would not fit into my harness, or worse, I could lose my lunch. So as to not incurr any material damage, I went for a walk. Weather was almost summer-like, skies clear, only chunks of fog crept out of the hills. They are our first obstacle in way of the wind from the ocean, many clouds rain out right there.

As I was marching through the forest, I suddenly saw mushrooms. Thousands of mushrooms. I picked only the pretty ones. Still I must have stepped on many, and missed more yet, as they hid under brown leaves.
I received a commendation at home, and Sid quickly fixed some omelettes.

Saturday remained beautiful, and we drove out to Point Reyes. This peninsula on Pacific coast north of San Francisco is separated from the mainland by a huge, narrow bay; Sid had promised me this for long time, but weather never allowed us this trip to the ocean.

Driving through the City was the worst part. (I got already used to if somebody goes to the City, it means going to San Francisco.) Fortunately, the biggest traffic jams currently happen around shopping malls, and things were somewhat less tense in our direction, towards the hills, where it is hard to succumb to Christmas madness.

Sid says that landscape around Point Reyes is similar to Norway. One drives along a "fjordu" for a while, a narrow bay cutting several miles into the coastline. On a first glance it looks like a huge lake, for you cannot see the open ocean, as the fjord winds among hills.

Our hills are now, in winter, beautifully green and many "happy" cows and deer graze there (there are deer farms, producing venison) - according to Sid's theory that a cow with THIS view simply cannot be unhappy.

	Beaches around Point Reyes

The actual Point Reyes is supposed to be the windiest and foggiest place in whole United States, but during our visit it behaved quite well. We even got some sunshine and the only "fog" was coming from surf breaking up on the cliffs. It surprised me a bit that a lighthouse had been built well BELOW the highest point of the cliffs, at 249 feet (approx. 83 meters), while the hill reaches 600 feet (200 meters). It's because it must stay below the fog level, which starts just at those 600 feet.

	Point Reyes lighthouse is located well below cliff tops

The original light of this lighthouse was made in France and originally used tallow, later kerosene, and eventually electricity. Today, the old lighthouse is retired as a tourist attraction and another, automatic one had been built nearby.

We were lucky and the lighthouse was open, even had a guide, who in our case looked (except for a green uniform) like a cowgirl from Dallas TV series and behaved like her father owned the earth.

	Pictures are to be taken on marked spots....

Sid trotted around the light and commented that it was a smart design, combining two kinds of lenses, Fresnel and classical, spherical lenses. Our guide gazed at him in awe, and then looked up at the lenses. And behold! It was so! She lost a fraction of her original arrogance, which was a cardinal mistake, as it gave the opportunity for Sid to give our blushed guide a lecture in physics.

We climbed hundreds of horrible stairs leading back to the top of the cliff, on to a lookout platform, and then returned to our car and drove off to another nearby place, which was not as much saturated touristically. We gazed out at the ocean, where something was breaking the surface in relatively long intervals, and wondered if that may be a breathing whale. Then the sun started rolling to the west and we made another hop to a beach, to enjoy the sunset there. Surf was huge, waves roared, the lighthouse glimmered in the distance, another heavy romantic moment.

	Open ocean on the left, a cove to the right

The sun had set and outdoors became very pub-ward. We sought our refreshments at Vladimír's. Vladimír had escaped the Czech communist regime in 1948, skiing cross-country over the border to Germany; he spent some time in an emigrant camp, then moved to France, working in wineyards, then got to Australia for a few years, where he cooked for road construction workers. In 1958, he got to America, where he met Alena. They married and since 1960 they had a Czech restaurant in Inverness. He could be no younger than 18 in 1948, we guess, so now he must be over seventy; I think he's over 80.

	Pacific Ocean

Sid warned me to get prepared for a real "excentric" man, and he was right. Vladimir is a Moravian, or better yet, a Moravist (note: an almost separatist kind of native from Moravia, an eastern region of Czech Republic). His pub is decorated with pictures of traditionally dressed country style ladies and with many other memorabilia (a president's flag, Czech flag, emblems of Moravian Margraviat etc.), traditional brass music roars from speakers, and Vladimir serves peculiar meals. A dinner at this place turns out quite expensive, but he serves Pilsner Urquell beer, which has been a blessing after all the "deer piss" we had so far. We ordered a smoked beef tongue (Sid) and a Wiener Schnitzel (myself). First we had to conquer home bread with poppy seed and butter, then a regular green salad, then a cabbage soup. Then came the main course, but since we spoke Czech, we got it with bread DUMPLINGS. They contained small black dots -- more poppy seed; served with a bowl of red cabbage. First I was kind of shocked, since the bowl seemed to contain something like unsweetend plum jam, but I must admit that once I acquired the taste, it was rather good.

	Another sunset...

I made sure that Sid was going to drive and quickly gulped another Pilsner. Eventually we found ourselves in a situation that we scrambled for small change from all our pockets -- Vladimir is "peculiar" to the point that he accepts no credit cards. Still I wish you could meet that old mand, how he drags himself across the pub, wearing a traditionall Moravian country dress, pours beer, talks and yells...

We had to take detour on our way home, going around the whole Bay, as we did not even have two dollars left for a bridge toll. It takes about the same time as driving across Golden Gate and through the City, which stays jammed all the time.

	... and yet another one, for good measure ...

On Sunday morning we whipped ourselves out of the bed to a more or less early lunch, going to our favorite Sono Sushi, which was surprisingly empty. They just finished baking our favorite unagi (smoked eel). We had a great meal -- and to work it off -- we went shopping for a harness. Sid had been always struggling to find a fitting harness for rent, which would also have decent belts that would not cut into flesh (and lard). At REI we tried some and found one which Sid approved. Nothing could stop us from going climbing to the gym.

Stacy was on duty at Twisters, we chatted with her and eventually bought a pass for ten sessions each. Now Sid has no choice but to become an enthusiastic climber. With his new harness, he gained on courage, and challended a nice route on a pillar. There were not many holds there, but the pillar was tilted and offered many structures. Twisters does not provide very interesting climbing, everything is flat or square, only that one pillar is good, reminding somewhat of natural features. I think that Sid broke out some sweat, but eventually he conquered the route.

	Vladimir's pub sign

In the afternoon we went to visit Stone, Sid's dentist. Stone wanted some advice from Sid regarding a CD burner. Sid first took his computer apart, then we all got into a car and drove to Fry's. I and Stone's friend Anya gaped aimlessly at the racks, while the boys ran up and down.. Sid, in one moment, even became an independent consultant, being surrounded by some other desperate customer, who yearned for help. After an hour (or so) boys finally seelcted what they wanted and we could all go for dinner at Mayflower.

Mayflower is a Chinese restaurant, and it must be a really good one, for whole large Chinese families eat there (beginning with grandmothers all the way to infants). We were practically the only group of "round eyes" and even that just partially, for Stone is a descendent of Mandarin Chinese parents.

Three types of waiters work at Mayflower. One cast wears gray vests, others have red ones, and the third kind have black suits. Sid claimed that the black ones are the best and one can order food with them. Red ones tend to understand what you want, and the gray ones are space cadets and don't speak any English. I thought that this Sid floated one of his wild theories (checking how much we swallow the bait), but in next few moments I had to agree. Gray and red-colored ones started bringing food to our table. They brought chicken with black bean sauce and fried pork ribs, but no rice. We sat there waiting, and waiting. Stone caught one gray clad waiter and told him we wanted rice. The dude mumbled something incoherent and obviously confused, he stumbled away. As we began to think that he would never come back, he did... and brought us four forks. What else could whiteys want, right? (and even I already muster eating with chopsticks, not to speak about the others, who have been doing so for much longer). So we stopped a woman in red vest and finally received our rice. Then one gray guy dropped a small piece of fried octopus into my lap, but that's nothing. I must say that they cook very good food at Mayflower, and the Chinese custom where everybody shares all the different dishes appears to me as very civilized way of eating.

Stone paid for the dinner and it was up to Sid to "work it off". Boys rushed back to the gutted computer and me with Anya ... into a jacuzzi. Hot whirpool in a back yard is definitely one of the few reasons I wish to have a house. We lasted there for a whole hour and if my skin would not start to dissolve, I could have refused to get out. Easy and Rudy licked my ears to show me how friendly they are (ears was just about all I allowed to stick out from the tub ), and fooled around on the lawn, while Anya and I discussed life and such; how it is in Bohemia, Poland, and America.

Yes, Easy and Rudy are, I think, husky dogs. They are very beautiful, friendly and well behaved.

Our boys never made it into the tub, and by midnight, when Anya was falling asleep on the couch and Stone in his office room, Sid finally closed the machine and we went home. I had to drive as Sid was completely rubbery.

Copyright © 2000-2005 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.