Good (and bad) Vibrations

It is funny to walk along the lengthy miles while listening to all sorts of opinionated people holding forth. I learn a lot. While I do not believe everything these opinionated ones say, I store it away and then find someone who really does make sense.

But my favorite walking past time is when one of my children calls. When the lovely daughter rings me along the way, we settle many of the problems of this wide world and find ourselves refreshed in the end. When it is the rather stunning son, the discussions can be about almost anything. Relationships, jobs, discovering what is right .. and then doing it. Terrific stuff.

We also talk a lot about music.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/61368422@N03/13453439303

Lately we've discussed a Very Important Music Question: Who was better, The Beatles, or The Beach Boys? Yes! That is what we have been discussing - haha! I love it because I was there when the question was very first posed. We girls used to discuss it ad-nauseum (the boys were overtly uninterested), and we were split evenly on the answer. For me it was The Beatles - then. Today I began to doubt that vote, having listened to perhaps one of the nicest, sweetest, most beautiful songs penned in the 60s and beyond: Wouldn't It Be Nice?

We young baby boomers couldn't get enough of that song. 

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn't have to wait so long?

And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong?

..we could be married, and then we'd be happy.

Oh wouldn't it be nice?

(you can get the rest of the lyrics here)

Utterly sweet!

And it isn't just that one song; there are troves:

• Fun, Fun, Fun
• Help Me Rhonda
• Surfin' USA
• Surfer Girl
• In My Room
• Graduation Day
• Wish They All Could Be California Girls

and so many more.

Isn't it fun to listen to In My Room, and Graduation Day? For some reason those two songs call me back in a way nothing else can. I could listen to it for hours, whereas even 5 seconds of a Britney Spears song might send me rushing to the 'off' switch.

I might be biased, but it seems to me that the 1960s created some awfully great music. A whole lot nicer than stuff like 'Oops! I Did It Again'. (I'm not sure what she did again, but it can't have been anything very nice).

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/61368422@N03/13453439303">Record Player</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">(license)</a>

Row TWO

Any day there are children learning to row a boat has to be a red letter day. This was that kind of day.

And nobody wanted to quit. Grandma was invited too, of course, but at 90 degrees Fahrenheit she participated mostly from the protective patio, holding her umbrella and handing out water bottles. She made occasional queries just in case anyone felt like swooning (no one did, but they were nice to her about it all the same).

After a breakfast of scrambled eggs with avocado and tomatoes, bacon, fresh fruit and toast, the row boat became suddenly very popular. Each of the three were positive they could row it (by themselves) and that they should row it. They did, in fact, row it, following the the careful and kindly guidance of Grandpa and Great Uncle. Throughout, they helped each other with encouraging words called out across the water at intervals. "It's your turn now!" or, "Do you want to ride with me while I row?" or, "May I please row it without the tether, Grandpa?" This was very important, especially to the eldest. 

Learning to do things the way grownups do them seems to be a theme around here. Handling oars; turning properly during a pull; facing the correct direction; remaining calm and not frustrated when things go slightly awry. And interestingly, knowing when you need a tether. These are all skills worthy of learning...life skills we could use some reminders of from time to time, methinks. Grownups will act, and children will mimic - it is the way they learn.

Faces that reflect deep thought. Tongues slightly out in concentration. Occasional glances at Grandpa just in case. It happens all the time. May the things they mimic be the things that will strengthen, not diminish, their pull.

 Sometimes, a tether

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Afternoon Tea At The Langham Hotel

It didn't turn out to be Santa Barbara, but that was ok. Santa Barbara is such a distance that even for a scone it was really too much for the SconeLady. One day I shall make my way there and sit near the water, munching happily away. But for today, it would be Pasadena instead.

Pasadena isn't anything even close to what Santa Barbara is, but it has its strong points, one of which was a luscious hotel (used to be the Ritz) with delectable scones and pastries and tea sandwiches galore that you absolutely MUST try, and try soon. And that is not to mention the plush carpeting, divine decor, and gentle wait staff hovering and ready with "More tea? How did you like the scones? Shall I box this up for you, madam?" Start to finish, we found it all heavenly.

First, though, there was the drive to the railway station. Then the Metrolink train to LA Union Station. And how would you like to see what the passengers saw as we pulled near? We rounded a bend and were faced with a pile of trash/recycling/garbage accumulated and obtrusive right there before our offended eyes. It was not heavenly.

The passengers and I stared. In shock. Anytime I arrive via train to a city such as London, for example, I NEVER see anything like this - this pile. And I felt sorry for us. Just think how long it will take for a pile like this one to disappear and be taken far, far from my poor hapless fellow passengers, never to be seen again. Probably never.

But putting this shocking scene aside, we did escape from Union Station (which is actually quite beautiful inside) and make our way to El Segundo. There, we had a scrumptious breakfast of all sorts of goodies like sausage, eggs, toast, salad and chicken-fried-chicken. We were quite decadent, and ate more than any person should who is looking ahead to an Afternoon Tea. I completely forgot all about how hungry I would need to be.

A delightful hour or two was then spent painting, together, in a park. The SconeLady has never in her life had anybody invite her to paint anything at all. But this time, they did. The rather stunning son + darling girl did invite me to paint, the first time since grade school. The result might look like grade school, but who cared? It was so much companionable fun!

 The Rather-Stunning-Plus provided the art materials and let creativity take its course. 

Whereupon we made our way to the Langham Hotel in Pasadena, for Afternoon Tea.  

The lovely Langham Hotel Lobby

 It is important to note that the Langham provided everything, and more, for this bright and beautiful Afternoon Tea. Was it their fault that we came into their establishment still almost completely full from the earlier breakfast? No. But we did, truly, try to eat as much as we possibly could to do it justice. This is what we enjoyed:

• The finger sandwiches were delicious: smoked salmon, shaved radish, mixed tuna, egg, and something else I can't remember
• The SCONES were DELICIOUS! Nicely warm (although I doubt that they were fresh from the oven; I could be wrong, but that is what it seemed), served with very nice clotted Devonshire cream, and four varieties of jams.
• The french pastries and cakes were over-the-top tasty. I only managed to get one down, but it was a superior Chocolate Mousse in a solid chocolate cupcake cup, tiny, with little chocolate sticks sticking out of it. Man.
• The tea was Assam! (awesome?) The very best Pure Assam I have had since coming back to the States a few months ago. They got this sooo right.

The company was also exquisite, consisting of my lovely niece who came by to join us and egg us on to eat more and yet more decadence.  We were utterly obedient to her voice, and just kept going until we could finally take no more, dragging ourselves out to the waiting car.

But oh! We were not finished yet, for there is near the Langham Hotel a divine house you would recognize:

The Father Of The Bride house!

My favorite of all movie-set-houses! The perfect way to end this perfect day, with its splendid memories all gathered and ready to cherish, and recall, at the drop of a hat. 

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

P.S. I almost forgot! The SconeLady gave today's lovely scones a solid 9 out of 10! They would have been a perfect 10 apart from the fact that they lacked the slightly crusty finish on the outside. I don't mean REALLY crusty, just SLIGHTLY (it's hard to explain unless you were there).

The SconeLady Goes To Santa Barbara

I don't know if it will be the best scone in Cali, but I mean to find out.

Frustrating it is, attempting to find a great scone here in this great land. The SconeLady has had to resort to baking her own, and sometimes her sister bakes one for her. Those are divine. But the experience of roaming about, searching for a luscious morsel from the Motherland? That is noticeably rare. So I am going on the hunt! And Santa Barbara should be, could be the home of one sensationally superb scone. We shall see.

Genuine tea shops are not plentiful anywhere near here. But Santa Barbara is a beautiful, upscale, and possibly moneyed town that may just live up. My first search for a tea place brought up The Andersen's Danish Restaurant and Bakery. It looked nice. It sounded sweet. But I became concerned that it appeared to be a Danish establishment - and don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with THAT. It just isn't - British. So I do not think we will try it. Somebody had mentioned that their scones tasted like pound cake, or maybe even sugar cookies from a grocery store (pound cake and sugar cookies are dreamy, of course, but they are not meant to be scones. Hello).

https://www.flickr.com/photos/32008328@N08/8371828332

Santa Barbara, California

Next, I looked into the Belmond Hotel in Santa Barbara. Admittedly it is not a British Tea Shop, but it does serve a mean Afternoon Tea, along the lines of the Savoy or the Dorchester in London. I do not say they will live up to the Savoy or Dorchester, but they are meant to. 

And I am drawn to their menu: 

• 2 English Scones with clotted cream+berry jam+orange marmalade; 
• 3 savory finger sandwiches (egg salad, cucumber/cream cheese, and salmon); 
• French pastries: macaroon, chocolate opera cake, almond berry tarte, chocolate torte, and citrus madeline). 
• Plus, of course, numerous teas to choose from! And they serve the Afternoon Tea out of doors overlooking Santa Barbara and the ocean! And they say it is delightful!

Best English Scone: The Digey, St Ives

2015

So it looks like it will be the Belmond Hotel for Afternoon Tea. I shall get there via a variety of modes of transportation, tomorrow - car, railway, bus, car. It should be interesting. And busy. And the rather stunning son + two special guests will accompany me and enjoy (I hope!) the search.

So if by any chance we do discover the best scone in California (and even if we don't), YOU, my dear Readers, will be the first to hear of it. Right here. Because everybody needs a little SconeTherapy now and then.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady

Row

The Athena dog wanted in. She has always had the idea that she is human; one of the family; in fact, a Sister. So why should she not get in?

In the end she did get into one boat, while the others rode in the rower. Such blessings come along with being Californians where the sun is abundant and the water still, miraculously, exists. 

It is comforting that Grandpa has always been a boat man, ever since he was just starting out. This means he is able and willing to invite any and all to take part, to learn, and even to drive (under careful guidance, of course). 

1975

Even the children have always been eager boat children, ever since they started out. They don't know life with out a boat, and at any given time one might hear the sounds of small voices calling out across the lake. "Grandma! We're here! We see you! Helloooo!"

2014

So when Oregon loved ones came to call it was the natural thing to do, getting into boats and gliding along, merrily. Sweet voices, large and small rang out wafting across to where Grandma sat, watching. It was a moment of peace. A very nice one, after a divine dinner and all sorts of jolliness.

For no voice was the least bit strident, or unhappy. No, it was all good fun, causing this Grandma to once again be thankful, for the thousandth...the millionth... time.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,

Life is but a dream.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

Dreamy

The kiddies were getting an idea. They remembered how many days it took to drive northward to Cannon Beach (three), and wondered if there might be a better way. Their memories of the trip included multiple potty stops, meals, hotels and gas stations. It was all the most terrific fun, to be sure. But it took rather a lot of time.

The eldest, of course, brought up (again) the possibility of flying there. "Grampa, it would only take 2 and a half hours, instead of 3 days! We have just GOT TO FLY!" he intoned.

"Yes! Fly! Fly! Fly!" cried the 2 little ones. "Only 2 and a half hours!" They did have a point, Grandma thought.

"But," Grampa said, "If we fly once, that still leaves all the other trips to Cannon Beach still needing a solution. What would we do then?" They stood in silent confusion. Gramps was right.

"So, do you know, Grampa?" asked the eldest.

Gramps thought for a moment, and then said, "Well. I suppose we could always consider an RV.." The children paused for only an electric moment and then, "RV! RV! RV!" they piped. 

The RV idea, of course, is one of Grampa's most favorite topics to discuss and research. Taking the kiddies to do this with him was just exactly the ticket, and Grandma began gathering them up and vectored them toward the van.  

'In we get, then." said Grandma.  "Off we go to the RV lot!" said Grampa.

The RV lot had simply TONS of RVs. 

The nice RV man shook Grampa's hand and welcomed the children. And they were instantly interested in every single trailer, camper, 5th wheel, and Class A, B, or C they saw. Nothing could get them tired of it. They talked about what it would be like to eat in the little kitchen instead of wall-to-wall fast food; or using the RV facilities so that no Rest Area need ever be stopped at (Grandma and Grampa both liked this idea); then stopping for the night in a nice, protected RV Park with hook-ups and little shops along the way. It would be dreamy.

After a while the nice RV man made them some popcorn. And he gave them a Sprite. And we went back out into the heat to look at yet another set of rigs. But at this point, Grandma had begun to feel hot and not at all dreamy. Soon even the men felt that they did not really need to step into another bake oven of an RV, and decided to end the tour. 

"Goodbye! Goodbye!" said the children. "Thank you!"

We drove out of the lot, and then - sudden sadness! "Where is my doggy?" said the small girl.

Silence. "Doggy?" said Grandpa.

If a drone had been hovering above the white van, listening and watching, it would have seen the van make a u-turn, retrace its steps back into the RV lot. It would have seen the small girl and the Grandma climbing back into the RVs, to look for the very important stuffed doggy that was missing. The RVs were all still bake ovens.

Although we never found it, the small girl was kind and understanding. She (and we) still live in hope that the nice RV man will come across it and it will make its way back to the Little Blue House.

In the meantime, it will probably be a while before Grandma climbs back into an RV again. Winter, maybe?


See you along the way!
the SconeLady

The Best Saturdays

The best Saturdays are those spent with the people we love. Sometimes that happens within just a few miles of home, and at other times the Volvo wends its way westward, toward the waves. Because seeing the rather stunning son almost always involves waves. 

So, we faced this:

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...in order to find this:

I do not like the driving part. And laboring through the SoCal traffic nightmare always makes me wish just a teensy-weensy bit that we had a nice friend with a nice airplane. But then I would probably be afraid of the airplane too. So there's nothing for it but to say our prayers and just plough on through.

You don't see it here, but just to the left of the Rather Stunning were huge numbers of other surfers, all crowding the waves and jockeying for position. I did not know how they could find a scrap of wave upon which to ride, there were so many of them. But strangely, they did. To the right there was a clot of beginning surfers, searching for a scrap of their own wave, and mostly failing. But up they scrambled, over and over again. It was really rather sweet.

At first, I didn't know how I could keep tabs on my own experienced surfer out there, hidden amongst the many. We joked that he really should have a helium balloon tied to his toe and hovering, in order to mark him out. A bright, pink, bulging, glittering blob of a balloon with a large black arrow pointing downward at him, with the words, "Here I am MOM!" But strangely, I did pick him out of the crowds. Mothers can, you know - they can tell which one is theirs no matter if there are a thousand other black-clad, mostly young men out there flailing about and disappearing beneath the waves. We know which head belongs to us. 

And there was someone else to see on our westward trek, today. Someone else to plough through traffic for. Someone else who knows and loves the rather stunning son, and who is, herself, rather stunning. 

Yay and Hooray!

Because life sometime brings along with it some terrifically wonderful people who make the journey that much sweeter!

Every mother's dream. 

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/53446274@N07/5020224582">Leaving L.A.</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(license)</a>