tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69170018445549466872024-02-19T01:53:28.528-08:00Christy MysteryThe Blog of Berkley Prime Crime novelist Christina "Christy" F. York and her mystery pseudonyms Christy Evans and Christy Fifield.J. Steven Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00005909772287389627noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-75497026118031715162016-10-19T00:54:00.001-07:002016-10-19T00:54:13.994-07:00Witches and Murder and Ghosts, Oh My! (A book review, and a giveaway)<div class="MsoNormal">
Putting on the Witch, the latest entry from the writing team
of Jim and Joyce Lavene, is a potent potion of witchcraft and mystery, seasoned
with secrets and murder, and topped with a dollop of romance.</div>
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Like all the best stories, this is at heart a story of
family. The family we are born into and
the family we create through the simple act of loving another human - or
inhuman - being.</div>
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With a cast of engaging characters, an intriguing world, and
complications galore, the Lavenes have put a unique twist on the locked room
mystery- or, in this case, a locked castle mystery. </div>
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Retired witches Molly and Elsie are back, along with Dorothy
and Brian from earlier volumes in the series (Spell Booked, and Looking for
Mister Good Witch) and the ghost of Dorothy's mother, Olivia. New additions include Dorothy's father, the
renegade Draco, all the members of the Grand Council of Witches, and a
centuries-old Inquisitor, direct from the Spanish Inquisition.</div>
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Putting on the Witch is a worthy addition to the rich trove
of mystery goodness the Lavenes have provided us.</div>
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Unfortunately this is the last book from this talented
couple. Their passing has left a huge
hole in the cozy mystery community, and saddened those of us who counted
ourselves among their friends and fans.
I felt very lucky to have known them, and am grateful for the
opportunity to share in one last tribute to them for all they contributions to
the cozy world.</div>
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They will be missed.</div>
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<o:p>If you'd like to win a copy of this book, here's a link to a giveaway. Good luck!!</o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: yellow; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Verdana',sans-serif; mso-highlight: yellow;"><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="02887792428" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/02887792428/" id="rcwidget_1wyl3342" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter
giveaway</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</o:p></div>
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<span style="background: yellow; color: windowtext; font-family: 'Verdana',sans-serif; mso-highlight: yellow;"><script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script></span><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Verdana',sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-9669723062437017842016-07-01T09:28:00.001-07:002016-07-01T09:28:05.280-07:00A Lesson From Sports (No, Really!)<div class="MsoNormal">
<a 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" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for This American Life" border="0" 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" /></a>I confess, I'm no longer much of a sports person. I was a big football fan in high school and college, and I loved baseball as a young adult. But those were a lifetime ago, and I never really got into basketball (except for the John Wooden years at UCLA).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So imagine my surprise when a few days ago I was listening to <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/">This American Life</a> on
<a href="http://www.pandora.com/">Pandora</a>, and found myself listening intently to a segment on basketball. (Dangerous discovery, you can
stream complete episodes.) The overall
topic was about making bad choices, and several of the segments were
fascinating, and held lessons that could be applied to writing, and to life. I highly recommend the entire episode, <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/590/choosing-wrong">"Choosing Wrong."</a>, but
there was one segment that had me running over to stop and start over so I
could make notes (<a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/590/choosing-wrong?act=1#play">"Swish Miss."</a> featuring Malcolm Gladwell. It's only 28 minutes, if you don't have time to listen to the entire episode).</div>
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The segment was about (in part) crowd behavior and a theory
Gladwell references called the "threshold model of collective behavior." The basic premise is that there is a threshold
- different for each person - of the number of people who have to participate
in a given behavior before an individual will join in. Early adapters obviously have a very low
threshold. Same for individuals with a
high anger level when the behavior is destructive.</div>
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRiV187C-E9AnmUiFG7c6OAOuN0ccc9JONVEjKRIduwWLcShg_x" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for basketball free throw" border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRiV187C-E9AnmUiFG7c6OAOuN0ccc9JONVEjKRIduwWLcShg_x" /></a>Gladwell went on to talk about basketball, and free throw
style. And this was where my writer
brain tuned in. The subject was Wilt
Chamberlain and Rick Barry. Chamberlain
wasn't great at free throws (he was great at everything else, just not free throws). Barry had an
excellent record. He set several NBA
records, and retired with a 90% free throw average. (For comparison, a quick search shows
Chamberlain's percentage hovering around the 50% mark every year, and current superstar LeBron James hits in the 70% range.)
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But Barry threw underhand; he looked like "a granny." There's a You Tube video of Barry demonstrating his shot <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tU88dxJKTHI">here.</a> Chamberlain took Barry's advice and tried
underhand throws. His scores improved. A
lot. And then he went back to overhand
throws and missing. A lot. In his autobiography Chamberlain admits
point-blank, "I know I was wrong."
But he couldn't bring himself to continue using the underhand shot
because it made him feel like "a sissy."</div>
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That was the underlying message. Gladwell describes Rick Barry this way: "His drive to be a better shooter is stronger than his worry about what others think of him," and draws these
two conclusions: </div>
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1. He put mastery and
perfection ahead of ALL social considerations.</div>
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2. It takes courage
to be good. Social courage.</div>
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This is really just another way of saying what my writing
mentors (Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch) say about not letting other
people in your writing office. As soon
as you start to worry about what someone else will think or say about what you
are doing, you risk putting social considerations ahead of your drive to be
your best; you give up that successful underhand free throw for a more
socially-acceptable form, EVEN IF IT MEANS BEING LESS SUCCESSFUL. </div>
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<a href="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQSIlqcikJR3eWvYQw8lmaehnHdIbqBCfCFbFv3yPLHWR7S58vj" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for Courage" border="0" height="200" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQSIlqcikJR3eWvYQw8lmaehnHdIbqBCfCFbFv3yPLHWR7S58vj" width="200" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
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And, man, is that a lesson I have to keep re-learning.</div>
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It doesn't just apply to writing, of course. In all aspects of our lives we need to
remember to be socially courageous.
Speak up for what you believe in.
Dare to write, or paint, or sing, or dance, or dress, or live, in a way that
makes you successful - <i>by whatever definition of success matters to you.</i> </div>
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Courage. I wish courage for all of you, my friends.</div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-25938334297859568672016-05-15T20:48:00.000-07:002016-05-15T20:48:21.990-07:00The More Things ChangeI have been missing in action from this blog (and most everything else) for several months, though not exactly by choice.<br />
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<a href="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for ambulance" border="0" height="145" 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" width="200" /></a>A few days after my last post I got shoved into an ambulance—again!—and taken back to Oregon Health & Science University. Again. All the way there I kept telling myself this was just a research trip, a way to write more knowledgeably about ambulances. It didn't change the fact that I was admitted to the hospital and stayed for another surgery.<br />
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I didn't stay as long this time, and my recovery was textbook-perfect, but I have been focusing on my own health and well-being since. I found the walking and yoga I'd been doing made a tremendous difference in how quickly and thoroughly I bounced back, physical therapy can do amazing things, and attitude is everything. I may not be 25 any more, but I definitely feel better than I have in a long time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2sRMcNt_BZPFOORdzsbpMULCTXMfgmmjjpOypgMYAtjhD0cDRwjq2O8ngjDL28rG2D6sieJSVCdZ3ToHRf_wRQ5l2MuLMsr7PO5DMUZ-eej7D-7zW-B1t7eX-WubLX7ISiB6xKpR0BM/s1600/stockfresh_315246_untitled_sizeM-isolated-white-border.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2sRMcNt_BZPFOORdzsbpMULCTXMfgmmjjpOypgMYAtjhD0cDRwjq2O8ngjDL28rG2D6sieJSVCdZ3ToHRf_wRQ5l2MuLMsr7PO5DMUZ-eej7D-7zW-B1t7eX-WubLX7ISiB6xKpR0BM/s200/stockfresh_315246_untitled_sizeM-isolated-white-border.jpg" width="135" /></a>There were other changes, too. The one most significant for the readers of this blog is the future of the Christy Fifield books. Unfortunately, Berkley Prime Crime has decided (after many months of wavering) that they will not publish another book in the Haunted Gift Shop series. I am disappointed, but it appears that many series are ending as Penguin/Berkley adjusts to the merger with Random House. Fortunately, in the modern publishing world it doesn't mean the series has to end, as writers can move to indie publishing and readers can follow them. Now that I have an answer from Berkley, and am back on my feet, I am working on book #5. The adventures of Glory, Karen, Jake, Riley, Felipe, Ernie, Sly, Bluebeard, and all the rest will continue!</div>
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In addition to the Haunted Gift Shop, I hope to launch a new series, The Spy Girls. I have always been fascinated by the women of the Second World War. They were the first generation to move into the workforce—in what were then non-traditional jobs—in large numbers, and they showed following generations that women didn't have to be relegated to "nurturing" roles (mothers, teachers, nurses). They were, in my mind, the proto-feminists that laid the groundwork for all women to come. I already have five short stories about my fictional spy girls, and they will be coming out over the next few weeks, and I plan to follow the release of the stories—singly and as a collection of all five with the possible addition of bonus material—with the first novel in what I hope will be a series.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt9UFUK2i8phR0IZkw25MCvdYyxqcE_g5Jq7bQhoXoMY7V0zNZwSD9iv18G5B2Ufxd1rSZAOnIF6qQ_hWVvjE733R0Tro7vAPA6NRU-V_tVZOZcTEUX28snMG_lDmTciekuYfKY8adRE/s1600/FR-Recycled-Pulp-ebook-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAt9UFUK2i8phR0IZkw25MCvdYyxqcE_g5Jq7bQhoXoMY7V0zNZwSD9iv18G5B2Ufxd1rSZAOnIF6qQ_hWVvjE733R0Tro7vAPA6NRU-V_tVZOZcTEUX28snMG_lDmTciekuYfKY8adRE/s200/FR-Recycled-Pulp-ebook-cover.jpg" width="129" /></a>The short stories explore the backstories of the two main characters, culminating with their meeting in the final short story, "Swamp of the Prehistoric Clan." This story originally appeared in the anthology <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fiction-River-Recycled-Original-Anthology/dp/1561466387/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1463274184&sr=8-1&keywords=recycled+pulp">Fiction River:Recycled Pulp</a> from WMG Publishing last September. Being me, I wrote a cozy mystery about two women who meet in a retirement community in the 1970s. They both have their secrets, but eventually they will discover they have one in common: they both served in clandestine services during World War II. Imagine Peggy Carter in retirement, trying to content herself with bridge tournaments and Tupperware™ parties. Yeah, like that's gonna work!<br />
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There are more changes to come over the next few months, and I'll be talking about them here as time goes on. Until then, thanks for your patience while I recovered!</div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-12423940633209616522015-06-25T22:41:00.001-07:002015-06-25T22:41:53.478-07:00Reading AloudAs many of you know, I suffered a serious illness a couple years ago, and spent an extended time in the hospital. And, as I have talked about before, my husband read aloud to me when I was too weak to hold a book or focus enough to read.<br />
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All the nurses on my floor knew him - at 6'6" he stands out - but he was identified more by the way he treated me and looked after me during those weeks. Especially the reading. Sometimes he would catch a nurse lingering by the door, listening as he read. They told me later that he was a keeper, they didn't often see that kind of devotion. But I already knew that.<br />
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What those nurses didn't know was that this wasn't the first time he'd read to me. In the early years of our marriage we settled the issue of who got to read Dave Barry's Sunday column first with an elegant solution: he got the paper first, but he read the column aloud - at least he did when he wasn't giggling madly over something Barry wrote. (Confession time: I was usually in hysterics, too.)<br />
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Over the years we've been together (32 and counting) we have often read to each other. I would find a passage especially amusing or amazing or enlightening, and I would read it to him. He would do the same to me. <br />
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That's how he finally read the Harry Potter series. We were on a car trip, I read him an early passage in Sorcerer's Stone (I was re-reading books 1-6 in preparation for the release of 7. Yes, I am a nerd!) and he was hooked. We traded off reading and driving the rest of the trip, and he dove into the remaining books as soon as we got home.<br />
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Reading to each other on car trips has become something of a tradition. We've read thrillers and mysteries and science fiction, but primarily we read non-fiction. And I look forward to those long hours on the road, listening to my dear husband read me something I might not have chosen on my own. I hope he feels the same.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHY_cNq-FssV4jKgu-8Mg-chhUa1HYHztenuS_ucgk_8_5kVSoenGCMkNSijlTQa7ibbdTKXzoXpf5gPr8xJZJeJzCtZ8SaTM6P-ApO4AXFwyzkDhF_9BIN_AOLwUdsdBBrFX_aocVQGk/s1600/Lizard+King.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHY_cNq-FssV4jKgu-8Mg-chhUa1HYHztenuS_ucgk_8_5kVSoenGCMkNSijlTQa7ibbdTKXzoXpf5gPr8xJZJeJzCtZ8SaTM6P-ApO4AXFwyzkDhF_9BIN_AOLwUdsdBBrFX_aocVQGk/s320/Lizard+King.jpg" width="195" /></a>All of this is background, leading up to a discussion of the book we read on our last road trip. Steve found it in Goodwill a few weeks back, we read a few pages, and decided it would be perfect for our upcoming drive to Reno. It definitely was!<br />
<br />
The book is <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lizard-King-Passions-Greatest-Smugglers-ebook/dp/B001BANJV0/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1434521387&sr=1-2&keywords=the+lizard+king">The Lizard King</a> by Bryan Christy. Set in Florida (just like my Haunted Souvenir Shop series!) Lizard King tells the story of a dedicated Fish and Wildlife agent and the suspected smugglers that become his obsession.<br />
<br />
Here's what Amazon.com's reviewer had to say:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Reptile smuggling is big business, and in his book debut, Brian Christy mounts an intense and highly readable investigation into this unique black market's surprising depths. Besides the reptiles themselves, this exciting narrative investigation focuses on two main protagonists: Michael Van Nostrand, a notorious dealer; and Chip Bepler, the Fish and Wildlife Service agent whose single-minded aim was to bring the former to justice. --</span><em style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Jason Kirk</em></blockquote>
While the Publisher's Weekly review (also on the Amazon/com site) has some issues with the book, we didn't find the narrative disorienting, instead enjoying the fascinating tale of cops and robbers. It's like <i>The Sopranos</i>, but with snakes and lizards instead of arson, drugs, and murder - though I'm not saying you won't find some of those things in The Lizard King!<br />
This one gets two thumbs up from the York Writers! And just maybe we will see some of those things show up in future Haunted Gift Shop stories...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-54672323545740349252015-04-02T11:14:00.000-07:002015-04-02T11:14:24.376-07:00The Best Tapioca Pudding. Ever!!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdds3Ktgq3d-OwSItUtW2UU6Ml_7M6CNCT3LQSQirEAQcGsLto4Bv-LYoaBb2it6qLHdtOroWE1xIajXMrcaDppUKATI4qWXHYa3GnkdEKSIFIcKrxb5jDjrz2NprIUMaRBy8enVdy-8Q/s1600/IMG_20150321_182025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdds3Ktgq3d-OwSItUtW2UU6Ml_7M6CNCT3LQSQirEAQcGsLto4Bv-LYoaBb2it6qLHdtOroWE1xIajXMrcaDppUKATI4qWXHYa3GnkdEKSIFIcKrxb5jDjrz2NprIUMaRBy8enVdy-8Q/s1600/IMG_20150321_182025.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YUM!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Recently I had the best tapioca pudding of my
life. No exaggeration, this was amazing
stuff! I work at a resort hotel on the
Oregon coast, and we shared dessert after lunch. Both my husband and I were bowled over. Fortunately for me, the chef is a friend, and
he agreed to share his recipe with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tapioca pudding is basically cooked pearls of
tapioca starch combined with a sweet vanilla custard. The pearls give it a bubbly consistency and
cut the richness of the milk and the sweet of the sugar. It’s dense without being overwhelming, but a
small serving will satisfy your dessert craving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I tried the recipe at home, and got the same stellar
results, confirmed by several friends and co-workers who sampled the pudding. Fortunately for you, the chef gave me
permission to share it with you, so brace yourself for a real treat!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So here it is, compliments of Executive Chef Ken
Martin of Fathoms Restaurant at the Inn at Spanish Head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The process takes time, so don’t try to rush. You have to start the night before, so if you
want pudding for tonight’s dessert and it’s already 4:30 p.m., make another
plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-5jzjRPpSniP7A9TLLlJdN_fwV5VDhNFh3tkTziAKKG84s4O8kRR-yYDGe5IucN62eAmj3xuk4y2_9t1m4QbcKLVZFK6OmuaQ-XF3ZfLgARjoPWjQJPIUTJcV1sesoyvLB-j7aYFkNM/s1600/IMG_20150320_202818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-5jzjRPpSniP7A9TLLlJdN_fwV5VDhNFh3tkTziAKKG84s4O8kRR-yYDGe5IucN62eAmj3xuk4y2_9t1m4QbcKLVZFK6OmuaQ-XF3ZfLgARjoPWjQJPIUTJcV1sesoyvLB-j7aYFkNM/s1600/IMG_20150320_202818.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tapioca pearls and water for soaking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Start by soaking ½ cup tapioca pearls overnight in 1
½ cup water. Don’t use “instant”
tapioca, it isn’t the same thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQFAd2KYtgv7kfuY5bNPOCZ9ATYOYBsfD82NUcBfXEEUVgSYsowV1b-ueiVCCJOl4ILKi2ZzZhKBFR6OVa4vU9VfIlUOdA3NdoWmDaUje_IQuyiB06-WhPQdCgrSRD99OYy_Z4AAUCKc/s1600/IMG_20150321_155956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQFAd2KYtgv7kfuY5bNPOCZ9ATYOYBsfD82NUcBfXEEUVgSYsowV1b-ueiVCCJOl4ILKi2ZzZhKBFR6OVa4vU9VfIlUOdA3NdoWmDaUje_IQuyiB06-WhPQdCgrSRD99OYy_Z4AAUCKc/s1600/IMG_20150321_155956.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soaked pearls with the rest<br />
of the ingredients</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLv6_wkY2-wLEf7u3pQ12qYoalTVqS1tCN-0muZYzOx7jzoqGNGeMqZmevBSqpmOY13LYaHLR2wmq_TUFvVC2hKedsQvTYWAcKosh7JAKXqxw4TZFtwFf_5hq1mD5rBXJ27-Bep-ZdJYU/s1600/IMG_20150321_160143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLv6_wkY2-wLEf7u3pQ12qYoalTVqS1tCN-0muZYzOx7jzoqGNGeMqZmevBSqpmOY13LYaHLR2wmq_TUFvVC2hKedsQvTYWAcKosh7JAKXqxw4TZFtwFf_5hq1mD5rBXJ27-Bep-ZdJYU/s1600/IMG_20150321_160143.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sugar and milk before cooking</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A couple hours before you want to eat, start the
custard base. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnJzUURFoW0SJs0M9CXbnABmd6vKV4ujluePou3RXE1f9vwyp9Hnm33hyDIwa7RZZhKwE6_S_dZpojrf7fCTAmm8hHOPFJ8K7gpWiWCFWTX8u6xNhZvEj8NKuZUIEC-lhMMip8tE_QbM/s1600/IMG_20150321_161242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnJzUURFoW0SJs0M9CXbnABmd6vKV4ujluePou3RXE1f9vwyp9Hnm33hyDIwa7RZZhKwE6_S_dZpojrf7fCTAmm8hHOPFJ8K7gpWiWCFWTX8u6xNhZvEj8NKuZUIEC-lhMMip8tE_QbM/s1600/IMG_20150321_161242.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boiled milk, ready to add pearls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In a large saucepan mix 1
qt whole milk with ¾ cup sugar and bring to a boil. Watch this carefully, as once it reaches the
boiling point, it will quickly boil over if left unattended. When the milk foams around the edge of the
pan, it’s at the correct temperature.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNzofm3Lko4xzAe0kOB67pSr9tWSHPHvGrzyu-orCagzX4du7YMILs6h7YJZgik5f6Oso8cRweVr-nDG2VzPi2h_3906_43I8J3G-Qb9KKUdt3TUhaM5yCi83un58WR419QZPTNYLURQ/s1600/IMG_20150321_161303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNzofm3Lko4xzAe0kOB67pSr9tWSHPHvGrzyu-orCagzX4du7YMILs6h7YJZgik5f6Oso8cRweVr-nDG2VzPi2h_3906_43I8J3G-Qb9KKUdt3TUhaM5yCi83un58WR419QZPTNYLURQ/s1600/IMG_20150321_161303.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the magic begins. You can see where the milk foamed around<br />
the edge of the pan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Drain the tapioca pearls and add them to the boiling
milk. Stir to mix well. <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">Reduce heat and simmer 25 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjje0NEUDHBVjsYf12W6sW74vFYuW-jQmxbPIKkibccz0AOVGsdm7mYlcn9nuOC-CnoiedfsMqg87Qev6ar5mxvQGr11bPvk7_6W1vOXPdXIvO6u668h-6JHHtjP_Bqg6NkVpoWf5Jt2VI/s1600/IMG_20150321_161359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjje0NEUDHBVjsYf12W6sW74vFYuW-jQmxbPIKkibccz0AOVGsdm7mYlcn9nuOC-CnoiedfsMqg87Qev6ar5mxvQGr11bPvk7_6W1vOXPdXIvO6u668h-6JHHtjP_Bqg6NkVpoWf5Jt2VI/s1600/IMG_20150321_161359.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see from the<br />
stove timer the 25 minutes<br />
is just beginning</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXxHCDSd-lslkKj-A3xsaIjt_spaVHvyYZu4mSuep2UCCG4bAS_-DyGWuRudXQCdaFJ94sG56nc3G9kJz8aMmXuXgEslpUSvipryhEwa2owumu2stOKTaHgqjEyzNwz9vxe5CnHro2rM/s1600/IMG_20150321_161753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXxHCDSd-lslkKj-A3xsaIjt_spaVHvyYZu4mSuep2UCCG4bAS_-DyGWuRudXQCdaFJ94sG56nc3G9kJz8aMmXuXgEslpUSvipryhEwa2owumu2stOKTaHgqjEyzNwz9vxe5CnHro2rM/s1600/IMG_20150321_161753.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20 minutes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">The pearls should become clear. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoxPdEBQRY9g_wnk4DKqA22AF8kyeL0fjKIdxHSF2IvBsMx4BV60fdcaHQDWPU3UA27de3PtUE9KdATqrDamDfQA4kN1MuPwbYSyLgzR0QzQ7cq7zITAZwRzU_5ijB7i8QFyztWlmgsA/s1600/IMG_20150321_162355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoxPdEBQRY9g_wnk4DKqA22AF8kyeL0fjKIdxHSF2IvBsMx4BV60fdcaHQDWPU3UA27de3PtUE9KdATqrDamDfQA4kN1MuPwbYSyLgzR0QzQ7cq7zITAZwRzU_5ijB7i8QFyztWlmgsA/s1600/IMG_20150321_162355.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">15 minutes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As you can see from
this series of photos taken at five minute intervals, change is gradual, but
you can clearly see the difference from the first shot to the last. (I didn’t realize I needed a better
background for these shots until partway through. Maybe I should make another batch so I can
get better pictures. Yeah, that’s the
reason I need to do this again. For the
pictures. Sure.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqIScEFAu6dQgyi_JKWpd-buscu4Sv_h0oiUh89NWg63MCJu9Z1FZnd0JmlWZ-UFhgLzBlHtyL3A7PwfIZSMYVa9rs12eyfgXmSgzMpOO9FGqGsTuL_ZzIDJANmj7hgJ-_cPdADkbFWA/s1600/IMG_20150321_162850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqIScEFAu6dQgyi_JKWpd-buscu4Sv_h0oiUh89NWg63MCJu9Z1FZnd0JmlWZ-UFhgLzBlHtyL3A7PwfIZSMYVa9rs12eyfgXmSgzMpOO9FGqGsTuL_ZzIDJANmj7hgJ-_cPdADkbFWA/s1600/IMG_20150321_162850.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">10 minutes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnQMLVPDnLaQZ8OFDJNcIj69UC0GHC5Vti8IhoYRbB5cTFvi34wxw3TsUDgJ7sKwhE0TrCIYaewE_8cwN_E3rTxVLI2A7JIUFT1BQSI6VGUa9nScEWEoQK25Xt8Qm8OPou33CPQKQo80/s1600/IMG_20150321_163410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMnQMLVPDnLaQZ8OFDJNcIj69UC0GHC5Vti8IhoYRbB5cTFvi34wxw3TsUDgJ7sKwhE0TrCIYaewE_8cwN_E3rTxVLI2A7JIUFT1BQSI6VGUa9nScEWEoQK25Xt8Qm8OPou33CPQKQo80/s1600/IMG_20150321_163410.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 minutes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaoonlWaDviXDMozlq8vQsMvXTT7-qPd3vo_q9MDF9DFZ5IyCwtNMI0aWbfhsh7cBjzrR1mba0MTUu0PLmVP9uGoc4tvCBXqgq2e6Je3n5FhdOac_UPdVNcjU3Uhpy__dd1gwFevo9bg/s1600/IMG_20150321_163845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaoonlWaDviXDMozlq8vQsMvXTT7-qPd3vo_q9MDF9DFZ5IyCwtNMI0aWbfhsh7cBjzrR1mba0MTUu0PLmVP9uGoc4tvCBXqgq2e6Je3n5FhdOac_UPdVNcjU3Uhpy__dd1gwFevo9bg/s1600/IMG_20150321_163845.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simmering complete! The pearl is still slightly opaque,<br />
but much clearer than before.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGcnh_6qcdfJUNVqCaytZ5SeJkbC0wZa2yaY23H0QS-Rr9KInyF2d4TNTg-Nq1wWSmgSybdjMn4OM6PkvAYh4B1sedobl0UgYo57BVoNabTyr3L-3B-nmpfWK8GigPsLg1X4DWh_Xuz8/s1600/IMG_20150321_163612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGcnh_6qcdfJUNVqCaytZ5SeJkbC0wZa2yaY23H0QS-Rr9KInyF2d4TNTg-Nq1wWSmgSybdjMn4OM6PkvAYh4B1sedobl0UgYo57BVoNabTyr3L-3B-nmpfWK8GigPsLg1X4DWh_Xuz8/s1600/IMG_20150321_163612.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adding sugar to the eggs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6Ovoo4htFNykykG5LCent4RUZoQyA4o0mYoDlemH0SW75aK5vuqjf_oNtWnmXIgcZChx2SxM8THRnhBhCf0FTARp_FStV35J1CryqZDMctqrwYl7rgfy52FCAhRr1EQA63rfMJEQ7cE/s1600/IMG_20150321_163754.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6Ovoo4htFNykykG5LCent4RUZoQyA4o0mYoDlemH0SW75aK5vuqjf_oNtWnmXIgcZChx2SxM8THRnhBhCf0FTARp_FStV35J1CryqZDMctqrwYl7rgfy52FCAhRr1EQA63rfMJEQ7cE/s1600/IMG_20150321_163754.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Egg mixture ready to combine with milk mixture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While the milk mixture is simmering, combine 3
beaten eggs with ¾ cup sugar and blend well. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Slowly mix eggs into milk mixture. While Ken’s recipe did not specify, I did
temper the eggs before adding them to the hot milk. Tempering guards against curdling or
scrambling the eggs. To temper the eggs, slowly add about ½ cup of the hot milk mixture to the eggs and stir to incorporate. Repeat two more times. This will gradually raise the temperature of
the egg mixture and make the two mixtures blend easily.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UEozOs-ZaWMzxTeGLK6FFKTwgINNnJ2fcl6ecdg_ZYHvTAe_ym76av3SJAOQTUarnjCoRAWp5H-HHnUXslnByLyhIv1A-8hmDUOZ7e_QzrEOjmQsPZ_iQolDTVXrwn5oPm3OBG4j_Fo/s1600/IMG_20150321_164123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UEozOs-ZaWMzxTeGLK6FFKTwgINNnJ2fcl6ecdg_ZYHvTAe_ym76av3SJAOQTUarnjCoRAWp5H-HHnUXslnByLyhIv1A-8hmDUOZ7e_QzrEOjmQsPZ_iQolDTVXrwn5oPm3OBG4j_Fo/s1600/IMG_20150321_164123.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here you can see a few tapioca pearls in the egg mixture<br />
as it is poured into the saucepan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Bring the completed pudding back to a boil and cook
2 minutes.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmKK8aPnF7VevlnBQrdwoanSh1lqHVaZlW3G38OIaPv2qkEbEUGsM-GtC8RRXAZkLOm9zgGBekPE_mZI6d9xFjgANuUL_yMn_EX3oTLAfspAa3dyOXMgeiBgFqJDZUdvqCa-10z7GEow/s1600/IMG_20150321_164256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmKK8aPnF7VevlnBQrdwoanSh1lqHVaZlW3G38OIaPv2qkEbEUGsM-GtC8RRXAZkLOm9zgGBekPE_mZI6d9xFjgANuUL_yMn_EX3oTLAfspAa3dyOXMgeiBgFqJDZUdvqCa-10z7GEow/s1600/IMG_20150321_164256.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything is in the pot. Now we give it a final simmer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Remove from heat, add ¾ tsp vanilla.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsiQ6LD8K-Q7OcpRD9QAnFZbJDCW2POOwQw2S9DqQhtNgTUeC9A9B4L77Jl0NBpqu4_AMWrmqjlPYO53STd31MdnZOg-Y61NoznW6TagsDZB3Y_936pH4smTuBTuWTBd40fOhyphenhyphenN81VTU/s1600/IMG_20150321_164633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZsiQ6LD8K-Q7OcpRD9QAnFZbJDCW2POOwQw2S9DqQhtNgTUeC9A9B4L77Jl0NBpqu4_AMWrmqjlPYO53STd31MdnZOg-Y61NoznW6TagsDZB3Y_936pH4smTuBTuWTBd40fOhyphenhyphenN81VTU/s1600/IMG_20150321_164633.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cover and chill. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgocYl_e69EruCijPCwiicSQMnNvqoobRhIC05DDSSWBZhm82ZQaqv_X6E0mOL5PFIvOrGdS7P7EH5akHmno8z8ylDcFrk5iSNUaWttagwfW5DIi3Xxz7DjtUtoakdiiUxL_TF2eT7C_c/s1600/IMG_20150321_165418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgocYl_e69EruCijPCwiicSQMnNvqoobRhIC05DDSSWBZhm82ZQaqv_X6E0mOL5PFIvOrGdS7P7EH5akHmno8z8ylDcFrk5iSNUaWttagwfW5DIi3Xxz7DjtUtoakdiiUxL_TF2eT7C_c/s1600/IMG_20150321_165418.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into a bowl to cool before going in the refrigerator.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To prevent a “skin” forming on top of your pudding, place a piece of
plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pudding. Pudding can be eaten while still slightly
warm, or completely chilled, as you prefer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4qvxdNo6lmMmQ-8V-MR33VfGxxludlUzv7FXDIKXYNCADViTSa91RAqWklejmlIqOOcR0jWcfHpUHx76zcYMOPn4eoWSFd_W2kvizvtGePKO3dTgggW1LWQQVcqT6lz1Jx20ssY94cY/s1600/IMG_20150321_182010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-4qvxdNo6lmMmQ-8V-MR33VfGxxludlUzv7FXDIKXYNCADViTSa91RAqWklejmlIqOOcR0jWcfHpUHx76zcYMOPn4eoWSFd_W2kvizvtGePKO3dTgggW1LWQQVcqT6lz1Jx20ssY94cY/s1600/IMG_20150321_182010.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the finished pudding, <br />
topped with a swirl of whipped cream .</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Serving suggestions include layering with whipped
cream in a parfait glass, adding fresh seasonal fruit, or spooning still-warm
pudding over slices of pound cake.
However you serve it, keep your portions fairly small. As I said before, this is dense and your
guests may fill up quickly. Or they may
demand seconds!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cover and refrigerate leftovers (if you have any –
this is a perfect “company” dessert).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; text-transform: uppercase;">Tapioca Pudding<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">½ cup large tapioca pearls<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">1 ½ cup water<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">1 qt. whole milk<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">1 ½ cup sugar, divided<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">3 eggs, beaten<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">¾ tsp vanilla<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Soak pearls in water overnight. The next day, mix milk and ¾ cup sugar, bring
to a boil. Drain pearls, add to milk,
and simmer 25 minutes. Combine eggs and
the other ¾ cup sugar, add to milk mixture, return to boil,<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>
and cook 2 minutes. Remove from heat,
add vanilla. Cover and chill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-10708467067586787432015-03-02T20:29:00.000-08:002015-03-02T20:29:01.846-08:00New Book Out Today!!MURDER TIES THE KNOT is new today from Berkley Prime Crime, and I'm delighted to offer you the chance to win a free copy!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWp8HT_FWqyBT3LwdAXT6QkuFaLPBGSDxH8xbJqNyiCnm5TURuHn6OCODxCNBYSMwu8OAAR-ZMNzOC_qAiNkAKf2z5Hmy9KB9UZEFPjvBuzTmXvo98aho2yx_vVqRWaTBvEwJZ0wpu6bo/s1600/9780425279243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWp8HT_FWqyBT3LwdAXT6QkuFaLPBGSDxH8xbJqNyiCnm5TURuHn6OCODxCNBYSMwu8OAAR-ZMNzOC_qAiNkAKf2z5Hmy9KB9UZEFPjvBuzTmXvo98aho2yx_vVqRWaTBvEwJZ0wpu6bo/s1600/9780425279243.jpg" height="320" width="198" /></a></div>
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It's the forth installment in my "Haunted Souvenir Shop" series. More northern-Florida murder and mystery, and more of Bluebeard, the haunted parrot!<br />
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Of course, you should go reserve your copy at your favorite book seller right now, but you could also potentially win a signed copy for free! We're trying to build our newsletter mailing list, and as an incentive to join, Chris(ty) has set aside twenty advance copies from her personal stash to be signed and sent out to subscribers. Here's how it works: For every 25 people who sign up, she sends out a signed copy, until those 20 copies are gone. Every time we get 25 more people, YOU get another chance to win. So don't just sign up yourself. Spread it around and share it with your mystery loving friends.<br />
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And don't worry. We'll only send out an occasional newsletter or notification of new books and events. We won't clog your inbox, or share your list with others.<br />
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How do you sign up for our mailing list? Just click <a href="http://eepurl.com/beIQP5" target="_blank">HERE.</a>Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-68481026375415555082015-02-19T21:32:00.001-08:002015-02-19T21:32:34.316-08:00Watch HANG TEN! (The pilot episode)We're working on a new video podcast series, HANG TEN, with ten minutes (more or less) of Christy and Steve talking about writing, the beach, and other fun stuff. Here's our "pilot episode," as we work the kinks out. Watch for (probably more refined) episodes to come!
<iframe width="440" height="290" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cGTrVKjfR2M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>J. Steven Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00005909772287389627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-36952766083583867002015-02-18T21:15:00.001-08:002015-02-18T21:53:58.608-08:00Sign up for the "Vacation is Murder!" mailing list<a href="http://tsunamiridge.us3.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=95fb931350584529e48a3fa3a&id=4f39be2783">Vacation is Murder! - Mailing list sign-up.</a>J. Steven Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00005909772287389627noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-63268469113548100642014-08-08T00:12:00.001-07:002014-08-08T00:12:23.312-07:00Ghostly Florida, with Prizes!<a href="http://wp.me/pOeF4-12p" target="_blank"><img alt="SunshineStateStories1" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-3994" src="http://palmcoasttwilightbookclubreviews.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/sunshinestatestories1.jpg" height="200" width="430" /></a>
This week, Books Make Me Happy blog and a handful of UF/PNR authors are celebrating stories set in sunny Florida. The authors showcased have offered excerpts, written cool blog posts, and are all participating in a blog hop <a href="http://wp.me/pOeF4-12p">GRAND PRIZE</a> giveaway full of books and other goodies. Be sure to click on the header above to see the complete list of participating sites. Check out each day's excerpt and the Featured Author's site for fun posts and chances to win!!
Today is MY turn to be featured!! You can find my excerpt on Books Make Me Happy <a href="http://wp.me/pOeF4-12H">HERE</a>.
Be sure to check at the bottom of today's post for the rafflecopter entry form for the Grand Prize!<br />
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The invitation to participate in this awesome collection of Florida stories got me to thinking about when and how I came to know and love the Sunshine State. I have never lived there, but my visits left a lasting impression, and a yearning to return and explore more of the beauty that is Florida.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Everyone</span> has their own vision of Florida. For some it is the urban excitement and glamour of Miami, the isolation and island vibe of Key West, or the family adventure of Orlando.<br />
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The Gulf Coast boasts some the world's most beautiful beaches, with sand so white it looks like snow. </div>
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And no matter where you go, you can sense those who came before. When we visited Launch Complex 34, the site of the Apollo I fire, we could almost feel the presence of the pioneers who gave their lives.<br />
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In the Panhandle - my favorite place - there are piney woods and small towns that feel like they fell out of a time warp. Viewing an abandoned hot springs you can picture the resorts that stood there in the last days of the Victorian era, when Northern ladies and gentlemen rode the train down from New England to "take the waters." Chatauqua theaters still stand in many small towns, including this beautiful example in DeFuniak Springs.<br />
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If you asked me whether I believe in ghosts, I would have to answer that I don't <i>not</i> believe. But even my skeptical and practical brain has to admit that there are some things you just can't account for, and perhaps a ghost is the best possible explanation. And if I admit to the possibility of ghosts, then Florida seems like a very good place for them.<br />
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I can't give you a definitive reason, I just know that the atmosphere seems right - the small towns, the sense of history, the battlefields, the family cemeteries, and the reminders of a time before our modern world of high-speed everything. Miami might be up-to-the-minute, and Orlando may have the most family-friendly experience-of-a-lifetime attractions. Tampa can boast of its sports franchises, and St. Augustine has the longest history of any city in Florida. But for me the Panhandle is the proper mix of old and new, of small towns and larger cities, natives and newcomers. And all of it overlaid with a rich history.
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This the place that inspired my Haunted Gift Shop book series. It's a place I love to visit - in person or just via words and pictures - and my favorite part of Florida.<br />
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What's yours?<br />
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<a href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/ZDRlNmE5ZDVlMjcxZmQyZmRjNzBlZThmOWYzNGFlOjM=/">CLICK HERE</a> to enter for a chance to win the awesome Grand Prize of Florida goodies! And leave a comment below for the chance to win a signed copy of MURDER BUYS A T-SHIRT (the firsts book in the series) as well as an awesome Florida surprise!<br />
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And if you're interested in a conversation about Florida in history and in fiction, please listen to our podcast "Hang 10" on <a href="https://soundcloud.com/tsunamiridge/hang-10-beta-1-show-mix">Soundcloud</a>, or the enhanced slideshow version (with bonus Florida pictures) on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGTrVKjfR2M">YouTube</a>.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-53905975730330393132014-08-06T23:58:00.000-07:002014-08-06T23:59:51.123-07:00<a href="http://wp.me/pOeF4-12p" target="_blank"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-3994" src="http://palmcoasttwilightbookclubreviews.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/sunshinestatestories1.jpg" alt="SunshineStateStories1" width="430" height="200" /></a>
This week, Books Make Me Happy blog and a handful of UF/PNR authors are celebrating stories set in sunny Florida. The authors showcased have offered excerpts, written cool blog posts, and are all participating in a blog hop GRAND PRIZE giveaway full of books and other goodies. Be sure to click on the header above to see the complete list of participating sites. Check out each day's excerpt and the Featured Author's site for fun posts and chances to win!!
<a href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/ZDRlNmE5ZDVlMjcxZmQyZmRjNzBlZThmOWYzNGFlOjM=/"></a>
And come back on Friday for a new post here at Christy Mystery!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-74398808261981850502014-01-02T00:28:00.001-08:002014-01-02T00:28:36.583-08:00A New Release, and a New YearIn another week MURDER SENDS A POSTCARD, the third book in the Haunted Souvenir Shop series, will hit the shelves. I hope you will all enjoy the latest adventures of Glory and her pals. I truly appreciate all my readers who have waited patiently while I dealt with all the life issues that knocked me down - but not out!<br />
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Later today I will head in to the office to deal with some payroll duties that need to be taken care of, but right now I am enjoying a quiet New Year's Day, watching the end of the Rose Parade. It's been a great morning, thanks to a local Los Angeles television station. Let me explain...<br />
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With the New Year comes a life-long tradition: The Rose Parade. In recent years I have become more and more disillusioned and disgusted with the various networks' coverage. Dozens of bands that we never heard because they talked over them, floats barely glimpsed because the camera was on some "guest" in the broadcast booth (who just happened to be the third lead of one of the network's series), equestrian groups that didn't even get identified, either by the commentators or with a title card. I missed the PARADE.<br />
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Today was different. I found the KTLA.com website with a live feed of their coverage. Which was EXCELLENT!! They shut up and let us hear the bands. There were no guests, or lingering shots of the commentators, no pre-taped segments to interrupt the actual parade; camera lingered on the floats and the horses. <br />
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I was especially grateful because this year I had a personal connection to one of the floats and cared deeply about another. The personal connection was to Donate Life-one of the pictures was of my son's friend Erich Vogel, a wonderful young man who left a young widow and a toddler son, but saved many lives by his generous organ donation. The other float was from the Wingtip to Wingtip Association, celebrating the Women Air Force Service Pilots of WWII. <br />
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AND I got to hear one of my heroes open the Parade, Grand Marshal Vin Scully-one of the greatest broadcasters who ever lived. (I was also able to watch the feed on my tablet, which solved the whole issue of "I don't want to get out of bed.")<br />
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I grew up in the LA-area. I've seen the parade in person several times, including the year I could walk from my rental house just five blocks from the parade route down Colorado Boulevard, the year I slept on the sidewalk with college friends, and the year I was in the stands at the Marine Armory at the end of the parade. President Eisenhower (that year's Grand Marshal) walked within a few feet of where we were sitting, and I remember how much that meant to my mom.. I worked on parade floats as part of a youth-group fundraiser while I was in high school and college. Before that, as a kid I watched the parade with mom and the other kids. This parade has been part of my life since, well, forever.<br />
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Thank you, KTLA, fir giving me back my parade, and restoring my tradition!<br />
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Tell me, friends, what tradition have you lost and found again?Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-46812750516096976572013-08-05T07:00:00.000-07:002013-08-05T13:01:54.834-07:00Day Six: Breaking Up Is Hard To Do<div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg907KkyGaXdt1PmMiVsaU4YDm3-4UWFE905RRWu-bKeovMsEXAjYDQmL-3lMT4AzCve_P-MhgiPGt9brwpRwttEHmMQQVCVIv-LjTdlsOfrEABTUpGKYwL89GuAm99U0sLW8nv45ZXC38/s1600/IMG_5469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg907KkyGaXdt1PmMiVsaU4YDm3-4UWFE905RRWu-bKeovMsEXAjYDQmL-3lMT4AzCve_P-MhgiPGt9brwpRwttEHmMQQVCVIv-LjTdlsOfrEABTUpGKYwL89GuAm99U0sLW8nv45ZXC38/s320/IMG_5469.JPG" width="320" /></a><i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (If you haven't read the first part of this series, the posts are here: <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html">Day One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-two-part-one-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two: Part One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-two-part-two-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two: Part Two</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-three-welcome-to-lake-county.html">Day Three</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-four-highway-175-and-bottle-of-wine.html">Day Four</a>, and <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-five-petaluma-dinner-and-company-of.html">Day Five</a>.)</i><br />
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This morning we had to say goodbye to <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>. It was HARD! <br />
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We dragged out of bed, procrastinating for a last few minutes, then finished packing and loading the van before we pulled around to the lobby building to top the cooler with ice, pick up our receipt, and have breakfast. Tony outdid himself for our last day: chicken/fontina sausage, spinach and ricotta crepes, coffee and juice, finished with whipped cream-topped Nutella crepes for dessert. I had to make them take my plate before I started scraping up the crumbs because I was already stuffed! Tony and Peggy have been wonderful hosts, and we lingered over coffee, talking and laughing, far longer than we planned.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kccqD42hc2qqC_JUidEe1EfHv2xJSkk9LLBpIzwpvsbObKAAHTM57ugRvT30vM8co7C0F6ZxFhHYLYnDz2tzPNVQQqirACpnkA9kS8XWvQ6G7uSdg8sbjxh8LSovEnVG9zpF4CjStaY/s1600/IMG_5599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kccqD42hc2qqC_JUidEe1EfHv2xJSkk9LLBpIzwpvsbObKAAHTM57ugRvT30vM8co7C0F6ZxFhHYLYnDz2tzPNVQQqirACpnkA9kS8XWvQ6G7uSdg8sbjxh8LSovEnVG9zpF4CjStaY/s400/IMG_5599.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunny and beautiful made it VERY hard to leave!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Eventually, though, we had to leave for the long drive home. We started around the lake on Highway 20, taking a quick detour - just a couple blocks - to ogle an historic hotel in Lucerne. We drove up and got a good look at the Lucerne Hotel. Construction started on the hotel in 1927, but the 1929 stock market crash doomed the venture, and the property was foreclosed and sold. It is now owned by Lake County, and is leased to Marymount College for use as a local campus, according to the information in the <a href="http://www.marymountpv.edu/sites/default/files/LAKE_COUNTY/Hotel%20Lucerne%20Fall%202012%20Historic%20News.pdf">Hotel Lucerne New</a>s.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGpvBTLRhwHJuQXqbXDOUv35QGz0GPKgJxXIF4Wb1B_HOXiZJThq3CdvVH74K4z6d0zE2cbq98UlSGw9ggdLVD4_8QnRO6lQ4S88UQCMjs_Mw9jfYyuwsZfkOde0MtFqnDYdzqapVNS94/s1600/IMG_5602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGpvBTLRhwHJuQXqbXDOUv35QGz0GPKgJxXIF4Wb1B_HOXiZJThq3CdvVH74K4z6d0zE2cbq98UlSGw9ggdLVD4_8QnRO6lQ4S88UQCMjs_Mw9jfYyuwsZfkOde0MtFqnDYdzqapVNS94/s400/IMG_5602.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful building with a checkered past.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FvzO9Kxakqq38u9tAuAn9kPP745hKZFLbxdqIfDgWLeAwUIr45DAJ_TMfFlro2ULtiEsb0mYiAzjitNIjqb633dX2jZRNlQosSiTcrJ_JLWgkuXr58BXmWY9Zfldu72ZD1KTggOg8fM/s1600/IMG_5601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FvzO9Kxakqq38u9tAuAn9kPP745hKZFLbxdqIfDgWLeAwUIr45DAJ_TMfFlro2ULtiEsb0mYiAzjitNIjqb633dX2jZRNlQosSiTcrJ_JLWgkuXr58BXmWY9Zfldu72ZD1KTggOg8fM/s320/IMG_5601.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard to get a picture that gives you a good<br />
idea of the size. This place is massive!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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For a different view of the hotel, take a look at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAFckYHg7Qc">this video</a>, shot by a couple local teens while the hotel was closed. I am guessing they were trespassing (not a great move to film that, guys), which contributes to the "Blair Witch" feel of the video. And for a peek inside,<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=As3BmurSn5A"> this video</a> from the Lake County Model A Ford club has some cool footage (Another thing for the "to do" list when we come back) And <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbtFBjtJfpA">this one</a> from the Marymount College lease signing ceremony is mostly speeches, but you do get the view of one room at the end.<br />
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(I got sucked into many videos of Lake County on YouTube. You Have Been Warned!)<br />
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From there we headed back to the highway and east for I-5 and home. We hit the freeway at Williams, an easy 40 miles east of Clear Lake. No route 175-like surprises on this leg of the trip! <br />
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Turning north on 5, we had several hundred miles ahead of us. We spent the day trading off driving, the passenger sometimes reading aloud from a book we'd found at a shop in Petaluma. <u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/America-Eats-Supper-Socials-Chitlin/dp/1596916230">America Eats, on the Road With the WPA</a></u> is a collection of works created by the Federal Writers Project in the early- to mid-1930s, compiled, annotated and expanded upon a few years ago by Pat Willard. It's an interesting read, and just the kind of thing Steve and I often share on road trips. A few years back we read a book about a miniature spy sub program, finishing the last few chapters by the light from a hand-held flashlight.<br />
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Somewhere along the road I realized I was relaxed and happy, grinning like a fool without a care in the world. By some strange magic, our trip has worked exactly the way we wanted. We unwound from the stress and intensity of the last 22 months, pushed aside all the care and worry and demands of our daily life. I felt good, for the first time in a long, long time. It was a nice feeling.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOY7JvrJSyBlGHdSuF0bi3LgpUBVgcdqtbvuFMwXrOvnUkY9XA0F8NjaDIjE0thqvNxUbp2BKkX6SAqmLiOoKZeDnFK27Z8tLKgnJqM9pkElSbC61XwW8gLSsDK7Z88km3WF4kTCy2yQ/s1600/Olive+Pit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOY7JvrJSyBlGHdSuF0bi3LgpUBVgcdqtbvuFMwXrOvnUkY9XA0F8NjaDIjE0thqvNxUbp2BKkX6SAqmLiOoKZeDnFK27Z8tLKgnJqM9pkElSbC61XwW8gLSsDK7Z88km3WF4kTCy2yQ/s200/Olive+Pit.jpg" width="145" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Temptation by the<br />
side of the road.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
About 55 miles north of Williams we made a stop at<a href="http://www.olivepit.com/"> Olive Pit</a> in Corning. This is one of my all-time favorite roadside stops; a shop bursting with the local olives is an array of flavors, combinations and preparations. Steve tasted - and then had to have - anchovy-stuffed queen olives. I bought olive oils as gifts for friends back home, as well as some olives for me and pickled okra for another friend. Yeah, it was an expensive stop!!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeNKZiKPA9lH05XUfmSC1TVPJHhpIEesyPUCuLH-TSwZJc8w_8yvRrQDRDPCvEWATA_PZAsczq8TdDl47S1CibuHcrgpJAGjskIOV2SouupeMNeh9iVMX8yr4BGH034S3bit8h2VlSxI/s1600/1948-Store1B.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeNKZiKPA9lH05XUfmSC1TVPJHhpIEesyPUCuLH-TSwZJc8w_8yvRrQDRDPCvEWATA_PZAsczq8TdDl47S1CibuHcrgpJAGjskIOV2SouupeMNeh9iVMX8yr4BGH034S3bit8h2VlSxI/s320/1948-Store1B.png" width="274" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original In-n-Out Burger. Yes,<br />
I have been there. Many times!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Back on the road, we headed for Redding, another fifty miles up the highway, and our traditional lunch stop at <a href="http://www.in-n-out.com/">In-n-Out</a>.<br />
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I was born the same year as In-n-Out, grew up only a few miles from original location, and lived within walking distance of that same store for several years after I got married. The burger chain and their excellent food were a big part of my childhood, my teen years, and my early adulthood.<br />
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Once, many years after I left Southern California - and long before they had expanded outside the LA basin - my son asked if there was anything he could bring when he came to visit. I jokingly said, "A double-double." It arrived in his carry-on luggage, wrapped in protective layers of foil and insulating newspapers, a little worse for the wear. Tasted heavenly! <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3UzwvlU_jY28E3LBL5jWC0QVSySdOQvCmGut7YJWF25eeurJvrZqbYugnay7BQsUBiaEeCmt0xBCQbmOwfXQxhMQo5yHfnbHMvPul6oRp7atQo5_aPxya-Wg6zmFMUPgm0Rr7i0a86Y/s1600/In&Out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3UzwvlU_jY28E3LBL5jWC0QVSySdOQvCmGut7YJWF25eeurJvrZqbYugnay7BQsUBiaEeCmt0xBCQbmOwfXQxhMQo5yHfnbHMvPul6oRp7atQo5_aPxya-Wg6zmFMUPgm0Rr7i0a86Y/s1600/In&Out.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like this -<br />
only more crowded!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We pulled into the Redding location about 2 pm, and found the parking lot, and the store, jammed. At 2 pm on a Friday afternoon! Service was still speedy, and the food as good as I remembered. Sometimes you just have to keep with tradition.<br />
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And just like in Southern California, where <i>everybody </i>goes to In-n-Out, we spotted a celebrity: Amy Roloff from Little People Big World fame. A woman at the table next to us saw her and said something to her companions; when they didn't immediately understand she turned to me and asked "That is her, isn't it?" I nodded and she turned back to her friends, satisfied that she had, indeed, had a celebrity sighting. <br />
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We stopped for gas in Medford at about 5; finally someone else pumped our gas! Oregon is unusual in that by law you cannot pump your own gas. It's a great deal for us, but it does make for some awkward moments on road trips when we forget that we have to do-it-yourself in other parts of the country.<br />
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The entire trip had gone smoothly up to this point, and although we did run into a little rush-hour traffic in Medford, we never really encountered any awful traffic. Occasionally there was someone in too much of a hurry, and there was one guy with a bicycle tied to the top of the pile of luggage that was strapped atop his car - the bike didn't look any too stable, and we were nervous the whole time he was in front of us. Wish we had a picture of that - you'd understand instantly! Steve just didn't like the idea of a bicycle coming through the windshield. Or the radiator. Frankly, neither did I.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwDs0NR-35iCk5e09-CQhz-bZ3QNwshZofRoWkmTmDdmkAHD9YH0p2SrnPr9uel3PJ3ywzg2En1b9-XS_dnFl-5oOvX08i-pn2EDQxIDJkvNllsrahYsgrmskF8i2-YlqTmZOOpBQEDo/s1600/eugene_or.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwDs0NR-35iCk5e09-CQhz-bZ3QNwshZofRoWkmTmDdmkAHD9YH0p2SrnPr9uel3PJ3ywzg2En1b9-XS_dnFl-5oOvX08i-pn2EDQxIDJkvNllsrahYsgrmskF8i2-YlqTmZOOpBQEDo/s1600/eugene_or.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close to home!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally, about a quarter of nine, we pulled into Eugene. We lived there for many years, and still have some very good friends in the city. We met one of our favorite couples for dinner (us) and dessert (them). We sat in a coffee shop and caught up in a way we hadn't been able to do for nearly a year. It was wonderful to see them, and we could have easily spent several more hours talking and getting the latest news, but we still had a long drive home.<br />
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About 60 miles up I-5, we took the turnoff in Salem, and were finally on the last stretch to home. The 50+-mile drive over the coastal mountains is very, very familiar; we have made it every few weeks (at least) for nearly 15 years - and last year, while my mother was ill, I was making the round-trip every weekend.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxeVOLwTQnk54pclDZk-wTCp9R-3kzKxfP-IHpaRw02_Y0PvxHwpqC8l2SC7qHG_G_9c3zH9woyi54cCvo_e1T9S1kQz-dXmSU5ep68vZLCH1BdVoUqhDGC4m0euiU3Bbl6hxuhlmCfpk/s1600/corridor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxeVOLwTQnk54pclDZk-wTCp9R-3kzKxfP-IHpaRw02_Y0PvxHwpqC8l2SC7qHG_G_9c3zH9woyi54cCvo_e1T9S1kQz-dXmSU5ep68vZLCH1BdVoUqhDGC4m0euiU3Bbl6hxuhlmCfpk/s200/corridor.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kinda like this.<br />
Only dark!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But somehow, no matter how familiar the road, no matter how far you have already driven, the last 20 miles feels like a thousand. We pulled up in front of our house about 1 a.m. - tired, happy, relieved that we would be able to sleep in our own bed. We gathered the necessities (medications, electronic goodies, etc) that we didn't want to leave in the car, or that we needed immediately, and left the rest of the unloading for morning. There wasn't anything in the suitcases we couldn't live without for the next few hours.<br />
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We petted the kitties, and listened to their complaints about our absence, made a quick check of email for any immediate crisis (none), and tumbled into bed. Sleeping late was on the agenda, since there wouldn't be one of those amazing breakfasts to make it worth getting up!<br />
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This has been one of the greatest vacations I have ever had, thanks in large part to Tony and Peggy at <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>, and especially thanks to my companion of 30 years, my husband Steve. It was a great trip, a wonderful birthday present, and I made memories that I will treasure for the rest of my life.<br />
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My thanks also to each of you who has taken the time to read my reports, look at our pictures, and enjoy our vacation along with us. And if you stop at <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>, be sure and tell Tony we sent you.<br />
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Now go out there and make some memories of your own!!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-20151996336518884182013-07-31T11:43:00.000-07:002013-07-31T11:43:19.946-07:00Day Five: Petaluma, Dinner, and the Company of a Fabulous Writer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYG420MO8f7ZvBMeWtRpJfmNeyjjRQEXXlxlW-2aPlV6bgAzO_O4EZiWFRf-rxnq6nQV57ES4tVKscwOHwRyx7ZHuLvZu6PlS8BPjXqqskzbRceBxSYDkhOUKg-qO4MFnuklPq4Fw2jpE/s1600/IMG_5517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYG420MO8f7ZvBMeWtRpJfmNeyjjRQEXXlxlW-2aPlV6bgAzO_O4EZiWFRf-rxnq6nQV57ES4tVKscwOHwRyx7ZHuLvZu6PlS8BPjXqqskzbRceBxSYDkhOUKg-qO4MFnuklPq4Fw2jpE/s320/IMG_5517.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (For anyone who hasn't seen the previous posts, here are links to <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html">Day One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-two-part-one-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two/Part One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-two-part-two-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two/Part Two</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-three-welcome-to-lake-county.html">Day Three</a>, and <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-four-highway-175-and-bottle-of-wine.html">Day Four.</a>)</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJZS090awCYdO8aTIrfYphOL7vrY7lf5EGl4G_wRKlGgLGimMmfm2oNExXFy_Ax0eKEU4rXuuGqXucrLbjTj6f-GOmhW9XYvnFzbZKDkL-undhB0baCWUH7Za78IURuRzsSmndoz8HXw/s1600/IMG_5464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJZS090awCYdO8aTIrfYphOL7vrY7lf5EGl4G_wRKlGgLGimMmfm2oNExXFy_Ax0eKEU4rXuuGqXucrLbjTj6f-GOmhW9XYvnFzbZKDkL-undhB0baCWUH7Za78IURuRzsSmndoz8HXw/s320/IMG_5464.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the squirrels who entertained us with their antics.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Slow start today. Since we decided to stay another night, we're just hanging around and kind of refilling our batteries, though we will head out soon for a leisurely trip to Petaluma (about 100 miles) for an early dinner with <a href="http://www.stevehockensmith.com/">Steve Hockensmith</a>, the author of the spectacular Holmes on the Range mystery series, as well as much other Good Stuff. Actually we have to leave soon, or we are going to dissolve into a puddle of relaxation and become completely inert, which would not bode well for dinner!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmTfX2Pe83bC30RSZ5JggLShVFv2gqrhI4wVXQ4Mayl9cBOHnSmjXVJUGPgPZ0i9z6YiNku6z2aC_5vB_zFa60kq5AzfBi7Eo3wCCaTN4KvBD3ghMgCptUun12iDEthWlqfSMS8UWLHw/s1600/IMG_5468.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmTfX2Pe83bC30RSZ5JggLShVFv2gqrhI4wVXQ4Mayl9cBOHnSmjXVJUGPgPZ0i9z6YiNku6z2aC_5vB_zFa60kq5AzfBi7Eo3wCCaTN4KvBD3ghMgCptUun12iDEthWlqfSMS8UWLHw/s400/IMG_5468.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Weather like this made it a perfect getaway!</td></tr>
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Breakfast this morning was an excellent baked egg dish, preceded by a cup of fresh fruit - cantaloupe, honeydew, and blueberries - and followed by fresh strawberry sorbet. The egg dish was a mixture of eggs, cheese, ham, and potatoes, baked in an individual souffle dish, light and fluffy in the middle, seasoned to perfection, with a golden crust on the outside. Very delicious. And fortunately for me, Steve doesn't care for strawberries, so I got double dessert. Heaven! The food here at <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a> is worth the trip all by itself. (I think I'm starting to sound like a shill, but this place has been amazing! I can heartily recommend it to anyone looking for a place to relax and recharge.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhj8BTyKvnv96x0ap-cv9-2lvzNy4NzGki00ELp4qIFp8taUf9CozSEru7itU_DfClRhLQE2iblAQaVULSzOvslOU4qv7DWY-RbdlwnFZws9wJ3ead2iFO8UqdjJqMJ0oJI8L0uDFPB1w/s1600/IMG_5461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhj8BTyKvnv96x0ap-cv9-2lvzNy4NzGki00ELp4qIFp8taUf9CozSEru7itU_DfClRhLQE2iblAQaVULSzOvslOU4qv7DWY-RbdlwnFZws9wJ3ead2iFO8UqdjJqMJ0oJI8L0uDFPB1w/s320/IMG_5461.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our caboose. <br />
With sunshine like this every day it was hard to leave!</td></tr>
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The one thing I haven't mentioned yet is the weather, which has been pretty-near perfect. Clear and sunny, but not too hot, with a light breeze. The evenings have been cool, but just right for sleeping with an open window and no heat or AC. We couldn't have asked for better. Perfect for sitting and reading, or taking a drive, or really just about anything. I realized this morning that we have not turned on a TV since we left home Sunday morning. I haven't missed it, either, though I know there will be a pile of stuff on the DVR when we get home, and I will want to catch up. But for now I am relishing the peace and quiet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6y7lJPSFueISIzSnP6nwkblSOhMwSzq9e-r5MBf7X7Ar9S04yAod6f0VaLCP3pDkLLQACEvYe-UQ7JjISfyONBI2ufCuTrXRBb0F52LloHALXP5qnA6m9rLE1w4Giy8pdb_XxRC0miyQ/s1600/IMG_5471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6y7lJPSFueISIzSnP6nwkblSOhMwSzq9e-r5MBf7X7Ar9S04yAod6f0VaLCP3pDkLLQACEvYe-UQ7JjISfyONBI2ufCuTrXRBb0F52LloHALXP5qnA6m9rLE1w4Giy8pdb_XxRC0miyQ/s400/IMG_5471.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful and peaceful. How could you not relax in this place?</td></tr>
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<br />
Later:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQejg0EsRck7HIDy0eiaWRT9gtAc7AsLxUm_TJqfI5feE25TVkouN2utABBVOKr0SBKEEX343wm9NR7I2tGlguHJ8NfpXa7sMB8eI9Rb6E958A5Gtbhswfw45rE2JAW1eb8yD4fQ4SJo/s1600/cucina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQejg0EsRck7HIDy0eiaWRT9gtAc7AsLxUm_TJqfI5feE25TVkouN2utABBVOKr0SBKEEX343wm9NR7I2tGlguHJ8NfpXa7sMB8eI9Rb6E958A5Gtbhswfw45rE2JAW1eb8yD4fQ4SJo/s320/cucina.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the Cucina Paradiso Website.<br />
It really is this lovely, and the food is amazing!</td></tr>
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Made the round-trip drive to Petaluma, and had an amazing dinner with the fabulous Mr. Hockensmith, who is just as great in person as he is online. We ended up at <a href="http://www.cucinaparadisopetaluma.com/">Cucina Paradiso</a>, a wonderful Italian place with a slightly-upmarket but very relaxed and friendly vibe, and truly incredible food. We arrived just as they opened for dinner, and were the first people in the place. We figured it was a good sign when the waiters were talking to each other in Italian as they set up. Also a good sign? The groups of people that kept coming through the door.<br />
<br />
We started with a Caprese appetizer that was superb, and excellent baguettes with a seasoned olive oil for dipping, then the Steves (York and Hockensmith) had Caesar salads. I skipped salad, knowing I would never be able to finish. For dinner I ordered Capellini Al Pomodoro E Basilico - one of my favorite things. Steve Y had Spaghetti Cozze E Vongole, which he declared excellent; the mussels were huge and tender, and the clams very tasty. The other Steve had Pollo Rotolato Arrosto, which he also said was excellent. (Yes, if we were really foodies we would have taken pictures. I was too busy enjoying the food, just like the breakfasts and the meal at Blue Wing Saloon. I'll go back soon and take pictures, okay?)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlWFwE6kGudi6JJDjRi5RYRPEpqgp7ZJLPgDD0BoxTczs5XbMpSjhd8h5vxEefF7GcZ1q8SZSAF21btB8PpFR_r1c9H7MGw7b_fhQ3GiE1ZINXfKyW1OeN2QDOsArqYzC8KKSlqSLmbc/s1600/Holmes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlWFwE6kGudi6JJDjRi5RYRPEpqgp7ZJLPgDD0BoxTczs5XbMpSjhd8h5vxEefF7GcZ1q8SZSAF21btB8PpFR_r1c9H7MGw7b_fhQ3GiE1ZINXfKyW1OeN2QDOsArqYzC8KKSlqSLmbc/s1600/Holmes.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Six short stories. A great<br />
introduction to the<br />
Holmes on the Range series!</td></tr>
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We lingered for a while, talking about writing and publishing and how to maintain a career in the current climate; all the things writers talk about when they get together. It's a conversation we have often with other writers, as the publishing industry goes through some serious transformations and we each try to figure out our place in it. For those of you who aren't familiar with <a href="http://www.stevehockensmith.com/">Steve Hockensmith</a>, take a look at this marvelous <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/?ie=UTF8&keywords=dear+mr+holmes&tag=mh0b-20&index=stripbooks&hvadid=1848794291&ref=pd_sl_7xxbsioc8n_p">collection of short storie</a>s. You won't be disappointed!<br />
<br />
We passed on dessert, opting to wander a bit and look for a coffee and dessert stop after letting dinner settle a little bit. We walked a couple blocks, then backtracked and eventually ended up at <a href="http://lalascreamery.com/index.html">Lala's</a>, just a couple doors over from the restaurant. An old-fashioned ice cream parlor decor, stools at a granite-topped bar, and excellent coffee ice cream, as well as many other flavors and concoctions. But after our dinner (I had to leave about half the capellini because I was full), a single scoop of coffee was as much as I could handle. There was more conversation, and we probably could have talked late into the night, but Steve H had promised to be home for bedtime.<br />
<br />
Then it was back on the road for us, and about 90 minutes later we stopped a couple miles from our B&B to fill the gas tank, wash the windows, and replenish the ice in the cooler - all in preparation for tomorrow's sprint for home. The plan is to have one last Featherbed Railroad breakfast, and then dash over to I-5 and head north. With luck we will be able to hit In-n-Out in Redding for lunch, then Eugene for dinner with friends, and a final push over the mountain and home. We figure if we get too tired we can always find a motel, but after four nights of a genuine featherbed, we aren't likely to be comfortable anywhere but our own bed.<br />
<br />
Midnight now. Time for a quick bath, and then I need to tumble into bed. Morning will come way too soon!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-39848711190147420682013-07-27T15:10:00.000-07:002013-07-27T15:10:05.834-07:00Day Four: Highway 175, and a Bottle of Wine; and Why the Former Made the Latter Necessary<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wine Country, our temporary home</td></tr>
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<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (If you haven't read the earlier parts of our adventure here are links for <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html">Day One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-two-part-one-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two, Part One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-two-part-two-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two, Part Two</a> and <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-three-welcome-to-lake-county.html">Day Three</a>.)</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clear blue skies were the norm during our visit!</td></tr>
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Today started like the others, with waking up long before
breakfast. I spent the time luxuriating
in the feeling that I didn’t have to get up yet, and sleeping a little
longer. The light is spectacular in the
early morning here; Lake County lays claim to the cleanest air in California,
according to the California State Air Resource Board, and it makes the morning
light really beautiful.</div>
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This morning’s breakfast was French Toast with a Bananas
Foster-style topping – sliced bananas sautéed in a cinnamon-spiced syrup. Not nearly as sweet as it sounds, they have a
gentle touch with the sugar. Served with
incredible bacon, coffee and juice.<br />
<br />
We lingered for a while, relishing the view of the small garden outside the dining room windows and savoring one last cup of coffee. The garden contains several bird feeders, and the activity outside the window kept us entertained.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBRNSWAg_SdZrmO7T_IqNHGZLN01hCSvl0-Hn5nNRvW0icHyCQRAbMkL7y_DXfqIHoXb2ZY69UrOk0bl5svHmZ7oZ_eUoPGXQzhyphenhyphenGgsq4upLMpHE32bNn98tdL5DLf02Vfu02Kv4FXGj0/s1600/FILE0266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBRNSWAg_SdZrmO7T_IqNHGZLN01hCSvl0-Hn5nNRvW0icHyCQRAbMkL7y_DXfqIHoXb2ZY69UrOk0bl5svHmZ7oZ_eUoPGXQzhyphenhyphenGgsq4upLMpHE32bNn98tdL5DLf02Vfu02Kv4FXGj0/s320/FILE0266.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So close you could almost touch him!</td></tr>
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Finally, though, we made our way back to our caboose. I tidied up a bit; the dirty clothes bag was
full and we stashed it in the car. One
chore complete. Then we walked across
the street to the B&B’s pier. Using
the lock code Tony had provided, we opened the gate and wandered down to the
dock.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting in the reeds at the edge of the lake.</td></tr>
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From our vantage point over the water, we could watch a wide variety of birds and water fowl, as well as water skiers, including one very noisy yellow bird that allowed Steve to get within a few feet and take pictures before he flew away. At first he just sat in the reeds that crowded the shore, then he flew over and sat on the gate we had just come through, all the while making amazing amounts of noise for such a small bird. Clearly we had done something terrible!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the gate, daring us to come any closer!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This looked like a good way to see the lake. Maybe next time we'll have to try it!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwHXCFdu7ZXYOpbx0_OowNYSI53r5c1iahSfk6K-aGpUQDFJeIBi-yhMmSvWRDWUljnP2wsOvRqubLugNTnI8kCsMRNji0g_pXuXyvTa8dZwq5d7Z6AeXhcN7kgGmSHVvVFsGW22hZ_0/s1600/IMG_5511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwHXCFdu7ZXYOpbx0_OowNYSI53r5c1iahSfk6K-aGpUQDFJeIBi-yhMmSvWRDWUljnP2wsOvRqubLugNTnI8kCsMRNji0g_pXuXyvTa8dZwq5d7Z6AeXhcN7kgGmSHVvVFsGW22hZ_0/s320/IMG_5511.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small, colorful birds were everywhere.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More birds, ready for their close-ups.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5G-7zcQqJwERlUQ3el7w0BqFFhbnRjudpK1UzLjGsLg-IeqQsCTup54-g5665aaF0CHtMv0AGid2kPiadtWcNi7I2KnSTg5-uLN6JGKa5MFxE-W1wBamPNpJcDYyFD_TAuMmSXMaTMo/s1600/IMG_5494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5G-7zcQqJwERlUQ3el7w0BqFFhbnRjudpK1UzLjGsLg-IeqQsCTup54-g5665aaF0CHtMv0AGid2kPiadtWcNi7I2KnSTg5-uLN6JGKa5MFxE-W1wBamPNpJcDYyFD_TAuMmSXMaTMo/s320/IMG_5494.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If we only had a boat ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMzcT5-xQz_NT2n6_OkuxIGwnMkOFloTggksKC61d5pfdKUXbn0_GdnDH-PQ24x1NS9ifxti__6zYg5ABBsqFUX0fzVJz3ayYqs8VzOYjEkeQzE6nQeS0HiR1EkQqs-KNtjOZDyzHjbA/s1600/IMG_5484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMzcT5-xQz_NT2n6_OkuxIGwnMkOFloTggksKC61d5pfdKUXbn0_GdnDH-PQ24x1NS9ifxti__6zYg5ABBsqFUX0fzVJz3ayYqs8VzOYjEkeQzE6nQeS0HiR1EkQqs-KNtjOZDyzHjbA/s400/IMG_5484.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back at Featherbed Railroad from the dock. Yes, it is that close!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We came back across the street, Steve sat in the cupola and called his brother to gloat just a little. We hung around a little and then decided to go exploring.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSP3hC6CqSY2AOuIyz7pvTu6WAqeSon6X6fQ0d8JPaMN6HOabBmVYeDstqRh0mjprX49it0SJD5Oj1qJA5Az9R3JOVjvmCZa-YjPl3WGOxJ2nwKE6bqpel_9Rnwev7F_4g7AF0X7g38Bw/s1600/IMG_5519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSP3hC6CqSY2AOuIyz7pvTu6WAqeSon6X6fQ0d8JPaMN6HOabBmVYeDstqRh0mjprX49it0SJD5Oj1qJA5Az9R3JOVjvmCZa-YjPl3WGOxJ2nwKE6bqpel_9Rnwev7F_4g7AF0X7g38Bw/s320/IMG_5519.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Does it look like he's gloating? Because he totally is.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7ZjPCm-zn2tjD1-YTLEWc3yuEaOiHdeoeyGH5sHsRc3QFliNamIxJUK4hrTBv3BG1NA1R1obm2gHth5K0-CkLrjnO8yFYSs5D0_KqMwyhQimUFXtbibxVkFVGTZV7dwJS4muFsFpIuc/s1600/IMG_5534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7ZjPCm-zn2tjD1-YTLEWc3yuEaOiHdeoeyGH5sHsRc3QFliNamIxJUK4hrTBv3BG1NA1R1obm2gHth5K0-CkLrjnO8yFYSs5D0_KqMwyhQimUFXtbibxVkFVGTZV7dwJS4muFsFpIuc/s400/IMG_5534.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the cupola, looking across the street to the lake.<br />
This could be WHY he's gloating!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL9pi3x_ellc0iON7Q4Qob3nof19HUmwAeRmYfVNvBtRjxTWPi0D2oErCm3cOCIU1qqVIW14Y0wLmc5H4EO1ufs7lqmEgBfJ8jKOPxNk7wSIBTL8IlVL-UJEqbUyjAFidPBiqWdspLEw/s1600/IMG_5513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglL9pi3x_ellc0iON7Q4Qob3nof19HUmwAeRmYfVNvBtRjxTWPi0D2oErCm3cOCIU1qqVIW14Y0wLmc5H4EO1ufs7lqmEgBfJ8jKOPxNk7wSIBTL8IlVL-UJEqbUyjAFidPBiqWdspLEw/s400/IMG_5513.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OK. Maybe I did a little gloating, too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssHL63YEDzx_Hb2Ct_rKD6rhTQdZE_HQtS-oD0Iv8SwEeCFHd86ze_V0C-Kcx10E3xnSFLJFjSuEYS2rhyphenhyphenUNug6rhXIX93yMV_dndiT_OyDEvMuu0viNQLCyooODLjbLk3IEFJ7xPnNM/s1600/IMG_5537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjssHL63YEDzx_Hb2Ct_rKD6rhTQdZE_HQtS-oD0Iv8SwEeCFHd86ze_V0C-Kcx10E3xnSFLJFjSuEYS2rhyphenhyphenUNug6rhXIX93yMV_dndiT_OyDEvMuu0viNQLCyooODLjbLk3IEFJ7xPnNM/s320/IMG_5537.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The greeter in front of <br />
the Lunchbox Museum</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
First up was the Lunch Box Museum in
Nice. It was only a couple miles, and we
found it easily. Steve had a great time,
and was a very receptive audience for the woman that runs the place; her
collection, and the rest of her merchandise, were exactly the kind of thing he
loves.<br />
<br />
<br />
The tiny shop is packed with
memorabilia, but the biggest thing is her lunch boxes. They fill cases and shelves, and there are
overhead shelves on every wall packed with some of the most obscure specimens
you can imagine. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTeyeKR3xw__9skRpZDeyx3n74y_gKnK6KueqahmoqY7l372PydYdw2ZKcz7bHrc02gLZfFTgrIWlig3YLPIR4g4GcEWMhKQ_xd1P2swh3sPy0GiuEX-0iXahffbQ-Yv9OGS_IdrAGfp0/s1600/IMG_5548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTeyeKR3xw__9skRpZDeyx3n74y_gKnK6KueqahmoqY7l372PydYdw2ZKcz7bHrc02gLZfFTgrIWlig3YLPIR4g4GcEWMhKQ_xd1P2swh3sPy0GiuEX-0iXahffbQ-Yv9OGS_IdrAGfp0/s200/IMG_5548.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TV Westerns of the 50s.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
All the shelves were full, with merchandise lovingly arranged. Generally they were grouped by subject matter, like SF, westerns, Barbie, etc.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab3iOprXw5cfQz1Bmp5Zu-3N2MOUc4ULd3ERxQhOIyEfTu6_KTydUYA6cINAwqkz7dRTCMiojGpFNCshm_bi7GxxvKZXfW9ahZNFwlOu1tF2zqTj2lTcUGCKn5V0fC_gbNhaZOvj1Gqo/s1600/IMG_5543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab3iOprXw5cfQz1Bmp5Zu-3N2MOUc4ULd3ERxQhOIyEfTu6_KTydUYA6cINAwqkz7dRTCMiojGpFNCshm_bi7GxxvKZXfW9ahZNFwlOu1tF2zqTj2lTcUGCKn5V0fC_gbNhaZOvj1Gqo/s320/IMG_5543.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Space movies!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
She even had a G.I. Joe that Steve drooled over, but the price tag was above our impulse threshold, even when we are on vacation.<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATNafnXAqXkMtjsRhTNjhI3KhJUyT4UCDpx433aXDagUpMbvokaUyykpYMUye2Q8B9mYzggiJYLM4C-dqQfaUo6QhstAFKb1E_Nbums8dDUQBj2CKTLn-587XGWwwcqH3sXpB-hCKSek/s1600/IMG_5569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATNafnXAqXkMtjsRhTNjhI3KhJUyT4UCDpx433aXDagUpMbvokaUyykpYMUye2Q8B9mYzggiJYLM4C-dqQfaUo6QhstAFKb1E_Nbums8dDUQBj2CKTLn-587XGWwwcqH3sXpB-hCKSek/s320/IMG_5569.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GI Joe lunchbox. Beautiful condition.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVa53U_kw3eHOi1Kk1FJgjjnkDW9MXEgsGqHeNCpkdSGZfssSnAG9fXgv6tyifWkr1VoKIA3u7Luz9ilPg4JmijNhfwvf91lAhFrista7mxGIEcSaXMhrKGV4kXNRsYevLZKlUX6OKss0/s1600/IMG_5568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVa53U_kw3eHOi1Kk1FJgjjnkDW9MXEgsGqHeNCpkdSGZfssSnAG9fXgv6tyifWkr1VoKIA3u7Luz9ilPg4JmijNhfwvf91lAhFrista7mxGIEcSaXMhrKGV4kXNRsYevLZKlUX6OKss0/s320/IMG_5568.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can still hear Steve sighing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL_KiHZNzwH8SIJ5UOvkiSoDK87KuGK6xToYfSnMGJo7uzIFyO9ZSLiUn0G2Ta_7b7x4JHJswfc85UZGKarrekXxSpS6UOva6ZHo9M2GLNCaDCcBi_3hBKyCe97SkmYu3vVVZsGd_geY/s1600/IMG_5560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgL_KiHZNzwH8SIJ5UOvkiSoDK87KuGK6xToYfSnMGJo7uzIFyO9ZSLiUn0G2Ta_7b7x4JHJswfc85UZGKarrekXxSpS6UOva6ZHo9M2GLNCaDCcBi_3hBKyCe97SkmYu3vVVZsGd_geY/s320/IMG_5560.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course the thermos is extra.<br />
Did you even have to ask??</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2S2jydGbZx5U-q1pDRCuhAriUjM_9P_jo1CB5s4B_CnGombheDwoBI8QFpEzaS0QVjJuo-QGhlnI6N-gIqGstd9Hs7FYp8VHh3fYv_gTgmMjt5FLvAkWm_NCAG9ofrw-mXeulxucDFyA/s1600/IMG_5552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2S2jydGbZx5U-q1pDRCuhAriUjM_9P_jo1CB5s4B_CnGombheDwoBI8QFpEzaS0QVjJuo-QGhlnI6N-gIqGstd9Hs7FYp8VHh3fYv_gTgmMjt5FLvAkWm_NCAG9ofrw-mXeulxucDFyA/s400/IMG_5552.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one's for my sister Jan, who had a real<br />
Annie Oakley outfit when we were kids.<br />
Does that give away how OLD we are?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPYKHYU7xiu4335Eu_VhNO_hwH9rjYQtml5n0chZqN9HdjkPZVi0bbJtcE4s11Mta8PsOM861xcECyjhbSE158AtGQsANA0j-ua4umrJYdcJQ-OJiUnAOmR0RoGy-8iSzaXObtYFpWQU/s1600/IMG_5547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPYKHYU7xiu4335Eu_VhNO_hwH9rjYQtml5n0chZqN9HdjkPZVi0bbJtcE4s11Mta8PsOM861xcECyjhbSE158AtGQsANA0j-ua4umrJYdcJQ-OJiUnAOmR0RoGy-8iSzaXObtYFpWQU/s400/IMG_5547.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I remember Roy and Dale, too. I'm a Boomer through and through.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Leaving the museum we continued east to the town of Upper
Lake. The “Lake” designation figures
prominently in the place names around here.
Upper Lake, Lower Lake, Clearlake, Clearlake Oaks, Lakeport, as well as
places like Lucerne, Middletown, Cobb, and several others that I’m forgetting
at the moment.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Anyway, by the time we got to Clearlake it was already past
lunchtime, and we decided something special was in order. Fortunately for us, we found the Blue Wing
Saloon and Café. The saloon and café is
part of Tallman Hotel, and both have been lovingly restored to a
turn-of-the-century elegance. The menu,
though small, has a nice variety, and prices are reasonable. Steve got a burger on a ciabatta roll, I had
a chicken wrap with grilled onion and peppers (num!), we shared an apple
pie with salted caramel gelato for dessert, and we still got out for well under
$50, including a generous tip.
Considering out fast food stops so far, it was a small price to pay for
an excellent meal in a great atmosphere.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH6TJYb7l7MpoYB_lI6SjgVzKojyDdU0zuNZMIuobFIIEN-TIHemPwJ1vd59JB20H2SQ7IETCUfzH88bG49Dn4z7BRao0OqHihRPZcJfpFzncJgJDrbA-RhqeW8X14qJIf82iKgo78Po/s1600/IMG_5576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQH6TJYb7l7MpoYB_lI6SjgVzKojyDdU0zuNZMIuobFIIEN-TIHemPwJ1vd59JB20H2SQ7IETCUfzH88bG49Dn4z7BRao0OqHihRPZcJfpFzncJgJDrbA-RhqeW8X14qJIf82iKgo78Po/s400/IMG_5576.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blue Wing Cafe. To the left is the Tallman Hotel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg167CH0F26fp8357lT9jmHgmxGTRineriCFjSKEWkOpiJ7qrm255b4CrzirYiXfM4Dv7cn9p05z_CGe6n39gooGA2cfZ_vRhOrQ2qX9BPI2KaSdp_MdedSJL5wXhrvCmzbajZQw4NMSpo/s1600/IMG_5578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg167CH0F26fp8357lT9jmHgmxGTRineriCFjSKEWkOpiJ7qrm255b4CrzirYiXfM4Dv7cn9p05z_CGe6n39gooGA2cfZ_vRhOrQ2qX9BPI2KaSdp_MdedSJL5wXhrvCmzbajZQw4NMSpo/s400/IMG_5578.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This used to be a livery stable, I think. Definitely a cool building!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuxqMg22LSCOBP6y1RpmzwguijJ3nCfiiN_kKJ6Xgf7dA1E1_5IGH1IWQuTNKLNFJNrO5dPziUcY-PNJredZ83fshImKN192YvucVHNten8Rt1axFXY35WKdcwS0QkegCLjUH8Dnf3EM/s1600/IMG_5585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuxqMg22LSCOBP6y1RpmzwguijJ3nCfiiN_kKJ6Xgf7dA1E1_5IGH1IWQuTNKLNFJNrO5dPziUcY-PNJredZ83fshImKN192YvucVHNten8Rt1axFXY35WKdcwS0QkegCLjUH8Dnf3EM/s400/IMG_5585.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That FOR SALE sign? Major temptation! The gas pumps alone almost sold me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
After a stroll around town we headed for Middletown, one of the
places we had missed on our previous day’s adventure. Did I say adventure? As the man says, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We went south on Highway 29, which passed Lakeport and
Kelseyville, towns we’d already visited.
The highway continues east to Lower Lake where it turns south to
Middletown. We looked at the map and
instead turned off onto Highway 175, which headed more-or-less directly south
toward Middletown.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
Within a mile or two, we began to suspect we had made a serious
error in judgment. Highway 175 was two
extremely narrow lanes, and the trees growing frighteningly close to the road
reminded us of Wonder Stump Road, and not in a good way. But unlike Wonder Stump Road there was
traffic on this road. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtg8j1bNXK0MPaJOfIL3o3smLvnW1sk2llXCDfn82ByKyOsqp9UrCoLfXqq8UunQk12v89d5_J9ya5upY2UxqXEwmOS-agFtim7i7fek8O1hMphehSSqowH6XlbDTPNLaRJdbiRZMNHC8/s1600/Left-Winding-Road-Sign-X-W1-5L.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtg8j1bNXK0MPaJOfIL3o3smLvnW1sk2llXCDfn82ByKyOsqp9UrCoLfXqq8UunQk12v89d5_J9ya5upY2UxqXEwmOS-agFtim7i7fek8O1hMphehSSqowH6XlbDTPNLaRJdbiRZMNHC8/s1600/Left-Winding-Road-Sign-X-W1-5L.gif" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitMAVxygMjgPgnHBzLRhB6UnJD8FIT8389FmqGHAiKMtrf_ue425EuHpnjf9kajKkwxPxU_ogO_Xh0niNjqrLO2wVLP_u-g5EF2nrVUufy2Zij-ddoqF3bCCdk9JuJtuoru5DavRwi7DE/s1600/Right-Winding-Road-Sign-X-W1-5R.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitMAVxygMjgPgnHBzLRhB6UnJD8FIT8389FmqGHAiKMtrf_ue425EuHpnjf9kajKkwxPxU_ogO_Xh0niNjqrLO2wVLP_u-g5EF2nrVUufy2Zij-ddoqF3bCCdk9JuJtuoru5DavRwi7DE/s1600/Right-Winding-Road-Sign-X-W1-5R.gif" /></a>Also, serious
curves. The kind that are posted as 25
miles per hour. Or 20. Or 15.
Seriously, there were <i>fifteen
miles per hour</i> curves on this road.
With oncoming traffic.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Like the
large truck – some kind of dump truck, maybe – that appeared around a corner
and over the center line just as we approached a tree that looked to me about a
millimeter outside our lane. Like that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
And did I mention the hills?
Up and down, up and down. At one
point there was a downhill stretch with an 11% grade. I know, because it was posted. Lots of places with signs that warned trucks to
use “lower gear.” We didn't get any pictures. Probably because we were both hanging on for dear life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
We made it through the stretch of highway, though we did find a
turnout and switch drivers part way. I
simply couldn’t make Steve drive the whole thing. Looking back, we probably should have turned around
as soon as we got that “Oops!” feeling, but it was all part of the
adventure. Right?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BZp2eu1zMAnYpYMzzul1QN7bfGLFhlqRIV4WKXv6AwPXM9RuCIM7RijEmIPRYB8HDvhO9oZG1agUGCVUUDaBr2G5LJNZD5yDqT4j8YSJ0vhhLSBrcIz2cRxtGT-5RkGjznQTwQ3ijj4/s1600/wine+bottle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1BZp2eu1zMAnYpYMzzul1QN7bfGLFhlqRIV4WKXv6AwPXM9RuCIM7RijEmIPRYB8HDvhO9oZG1agUGCVUUDaBr2G5LJNZD5yDqT4j8YSJ0vhhLSBrcIz2cRxtGT-5RkGjznQTwQ3ijj4/s320/wine+bottle.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Highway 175 we earned this!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Middletown was a cute little place, once we got there. We ogled a few places, and then headed back. On Highway 29. We talked about what to do for dinner, and
came to the conclusion that we had to have some local wine at least one night
while we were here. Since we have a
long-standing policy that if one of us drinks the other is designated driver (and yes, we are both
lightweights enough that that includes even a single glass of wine), that meant
taking a bottle home with us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We stopped at a local grocery store and picked up some cheese to
go with the crackers we already had, a bottle of local Reisling (it was too late
in the day for an actual winery), some grapes and a half of a tiny
watermelon. We stopped at Foster’s
Freeze in Lucerne (a California tradition since 1946, IIRC) and got ice cream
for dessert. It wouldn’t keep, so we had
to eat it there. <insert eye="" here.="" innocent="" roll=""> We both remember Foster’s
from our childhoods, so nostalgia dictated at least one visit before we left.<o:p></o:p></insert></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwkwBlfWJyNYCI9hyG1V5f73w9Y1KSiGZLTWfweYOPDXLd46cCFxDMTz1DGg_NPHBm6G7vN_6esk7O9U6bk30TpBE_r9NixFhIS0g2S5_AGXvSpmxi4fKP95K75m7JUSz6knMUYFf43k/s1600/IMG_5529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwkwBlfWJyNYCI9hyG1V5f73w9Y1KSiGZLTWfweYOPDXLd46cCFxDMTz1DGg_NPHBm6G7vN_6esk7O9U6bk30TpBE_r9NixFhIS0g2S5_AGXvSpmxi4fKP95K75m7JUSz6knMUYFf43k/s320/IMG_5529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ospreys nested in the top of these trees.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Back home, we pulled the folding camp chairs out of the van (“It’s
a van, we have room” was our packing <o:p></o:p><br />
motto) and set them up on the grass
outside our caboose. We each had a book
and a Kindle, and we settled down to enjoy our evening. We watched as the crows harassed a pair of
larger birds, ospreys we think, who seemed to have a nest high overhead. We read until we needed book lights to
continue, and we eventually opened the wine, spread out the cheese and
crackers, and had a lovely picnic-style supper out on the lawn.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYalKtGU06PX5w0KN-aPWs6bm2L4pmNBfpEUr-ZXOVxlKTxVieKCc_HYks4p7F-zrMamQm2BVVgElQR5QtLdtytuK10EHyh7D2JzFDDXuQhyphenhyphenkssu6PLrBluH4jcrQKxB8TWYLkBs1w144/s1600/IMG_5530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYalKtGU06PX5w0KN-aPWs6bm2L4pmNBfpEUr-ZXOVxlKTxVieKCc_HYks4p7F-zrMamQm2BVVgElQR5QtLdtytuK10EHyh7D2JzFDDXuQhyphenhyphenkssu6PLrBluH4jcrQKxB8TWYLkBs1w144/s400/IMG_5530.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, not a bad spot for a picnic dinner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As we were sitting there, we talked a little about our plans for
tomorrow. We’re driving down to Petaluma
to meet an online friend for dinner, and from there we planned to come back
north and east to I-5 and spend the night somewhere near Williams. But we weren’t tied to a reservation, and
after a little discussion we thought we would really rather spend one more night
in our caboose. Williams is less than 50
miles from here, so the drive wouldn’t be appreciably shorter tomorrow, and we
are really enjoying our stay at <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKNuhi9tsJzd_dabaQFG8zr5FS6gdL6GhBWgv6G5lngl_CTK86sRpCiwoq4rzilAZ58FODLiZH4ZBlJmJXq2GDYhuUdADObIYkK61LpfTMvnAAicMCqIjzwqaVF1mYJtJ4Ey2iRpC-lI/s1600/IMG_5474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKNuhi9tsJzd_dabaQFG8zr5FS6gdL6GhBWgv6G5lngl_CTK86sRpCiwoq4rzilAZ58FODLiZH4ZBlJmJXq2GDYhuUdADObIYkK61LpfTMvnAAicMCqIjzwqaVF1mYJtJ4Ey2iRpC-lI/s320/IMG_5474.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We couldn't bear to leave!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A quick trip to the office, where I found Peggy even though it was
after hours (She was watching Dr. Who,
which made Steve remark “I knew she was one of our people.”) confirmed that the
caboose was available for tomorrow, so we were all set.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
We cleaned up our picnic, took the last of the wine inside, and I
soaked while Steve sat in the cupola and caught up on his Facebook and email
before taking his turn in the tub.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
Time for me to turn into a pumpkin now, and get some sleep. A final day of adventure, dinner with a fantastic writer, and a final night
of sleeping in a caboose await us tomorrow.
I can hardly wait!<span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-33960323216819868062013-07-10T13:36:00.000-07:002013-07-10T13:36:49.688-07:00Day Three: Welcome to Lake County!<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshQoflD9NcWZj-mrP9PxHaZ4VtL85m0SPSXkBhGarCtLyCZvjj5j7Hj_wceaoly3U7ax2HPWF7pYsqkb4IZUlFAfjqIlv8BOqtxsIRPaOEFkfObOyr3LiZK5d0Y9I8VJw-GGUUFQJLBk/s1600/welcome+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshQoflD9NcWZj-mrP9PxHaZ4VtL85m0SPSXkBhGarCtLyCZvjj5j7Hj_wceaoly3U7ax2HPWF7pYsqkb4IZUlFAfjqIlv8BOqtxsIRPaOEFkfObOyr3LiZK5d0Y9I8VJw-GGUUFQJLBk/s320/welcome+sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (In case you missed them, here are links to <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html">Day One</a>, <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-two-part-one-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two-Part One</a>, and <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/07/day-two-part-two-christy-mystery-goes.html">Day Two-Part Two</a>.)</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvR0hdUTQNwydYwn24_iSbVIwGH8I8CNUU9dbf7oWfw_L78uwD9y_FqnKQQzeBePbDuiO9RSjQczgDhSL2El2IcohaFg6Zt0UReY4AacXnp2P5L4a9HDjb56xvoaxv4BkYjJNkCUIzLPw/s1600/alarm+clock.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvR0hdUTQNwydYwn24_iSbVIwGH8I8CNUU9dbf7oWfw_L78uwD9y_FqnKQQzeBePbDuiO9RSjQczgDhSL2El2IcohaFg6Zt0UReY4AacXnp2P5L4a9HDjb56xvoaxv4BkYjJNkCUIzLPw/s200/alarm+clock.JPG" width="200" /></a>Somehow, on the days I don't have to get up early I wake up even earlier than usual. This morning, for instance, I woke up, realized it was bright and sunny outside, and was immediately worried we had slept right through breakfast. I looked at the clock.<br />
<br />
It was 6:44 a.m. Breakfast? Between 9 and 10. No, we hadn't missed it. I don't think I ever <i>really </i>got back to sleep, but I read and dozed for about 90 minutes before I decided to get up and get dressed. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rSTjGsIHXH7zuy58LNcmJpoDSmuNBgTYxBn8mXVtNBCGcokU9bpZetCoHoP6nTrSkZbeDX9MOPhpK7AQ_VV9QQ82VT4mOQbK3HN4P4YayETSaUUOMPE6P89JvyYHGYYwQ1aSCrlC-SE/s1600/FILE0265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rSTjGsIHXH7zuy58LNcmJpoDSmuNBgTYxBn8mXVtNBCGcokU9bpZetCoHoP6nTrSkZbeDX9MOPhpK7AQ_VV9QQ82VT4mOQbK3HN4P4YayETSaUUOMPE6P89JvyYHGYYwQ1aSCrlC-SE/s320/FILE0265.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A train track around the dining room. Surprised?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Even though I am not a morning person, it was well worth
getting up for breakfast. I made it over
to the lobby of <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a> a little before 9:30, and met Tony Barthel, my host. Tony, I have to point out, is a great guy and
super friendly. Breakfast was
wonderful. German Apple Pancakes,
chicken/spinach/fontina sausage, good coffee and juice. Cece brought us each a plate with a large
sausage, and a soufflé dish full of a delightful custardy base topped with
thickly-sliced apples and a light, buttery glaze on top. Yummy, and more than we could finish, more’s
the pity! <br />
<br />
I should have taken a picture of the Pancake, just to torture y'all! Instead, you'll just have to stay with Tony and Peggy, and see for yourself.<br />
<br />
We came back and picked up a little - Tony and his crew will take good care of you, but they won't come in your caboose unless you ask. We didn't need much, so we made our own bed and enjoyed the feeling of complete privacy.<br />
<br />
Reasted and very well-fed, we got in the car for a tour of the area. We drove around Clear Lake, taking several hours to explore the small towns along the way. As much as we could, we stuck to the back roads that clung to the lakeshore instead of the faster, less scenic highway. I have no idea how many actual miles we covered, but the trip took about five hours. Those little squiggly lines on the map? Those are the roads we took; those, and a few that I don't think are even on this map!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2a4hfSZd6IHN4aSiEwmguKIlsbNS4MjuvTxbcbwEA2Te9pSqA3-DtN4tFKxibsqzWWymJYGBdkh1gaRxgZKEtVzwBOFV0zZIDQoMYkyXSD7aZAdeY25kgemj7VIWJrhx2wVV4QwknlLc/s1600/clearlake-map2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2a4hfSZd6IHN4aSiEwmguKIlsbNS4MjuvTxbcbwEA2Te9pSqA3-DtN4tFKxibsqzWWymJYGBdkh1gaRxgZKEtVzwBOFV0zZIDQoMYkyXSD7aZAdeY25kgemj7VIWJrhx2wVV4QwknlLc/s320/clearlake-map2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
(Fishing, by the way, is an important part of <a href="http://www.lakecounty.com/AboutLC/Explore/Lower_Lake.htm">Lake County</a> recreation. My thanks to <a href="http://rbbassfishing.net/">rbbassfishing.net</a> for the map of the lake.)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DvYRWRdMgHyJqNYQ0B3BPVpvcElWXC_LPGwdXMZoclW0025ZZVbanljhxrghGBZDeNPn14tbzQNil8FZIw9uh0aVET5dyggqJAOY3tKVJT3N9nPCvfHaDKxgVKAteXC0iKZPnSdHJ54/s1600/FILE0279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DvYRWRdMgHyJqNYQ0B3BPVpvcElWXC_LPGwdXMZoclW0025ZZVbanljhxrghGBZDeNPn14tbzQNil8FZIw9uh0aVET5dyggqJAOY3tKVJT3N9nPCvfHaDKxgVKAteXC0iKZPnSdHJ54/s320/FILE0279.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Historical marker for the stone jail.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0iq_5G8GtfpVyjMBvGUnJRU7CVLAA9bk83w_Z3QQNi-c3NH_GDLu3KRGVYhXj6oJjjHrZ51eKr_2p0LGF41U_vR4e21NQxio8tuVpr5RfTwYksxIdj7Y0PGgkvw32MYup1ROaoZPI38/s1600/FILE0281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0iq_5G8GtfpVyjMBvGUnJRU7CVLAA9bk83w_Z3QQNi-c3NH_GDLu3KRGVYhXj6oJjjHrZ51eKr_2p0LGF41U_vR4e21NQxio8tuVpr5RfTwYksxIdj7Y0PGgkvw32MYup1ROaoZPI38/s400/FILE0281.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is this the country's smallest jail?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In Lower Lake we found what claims to be the smallest jail in the United States. Built in 1876 by local stonemason Stephen Nicolai out of locally quarried stone, the tiny building is on Main Street.<br />
<br />
We saw fantastic views of the lake and the surrounding area, hills covered with grape vines (this is wine country after all), tiny towns that had been here for many years, and generally cool stuff everywhere we went.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the lake as we started out in the morning</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grape vines cover the hills surrounding Clear Lake.</td></tr>
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Lake County is home to many <a href="http://www.lakecountywineries.org/">wineries</a>. Although we didn't go for tasting this trip, the views as we drove through the acres and acres of grape vines were spectacular.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Carnegie Library in Lakeport.</td></tr>
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Lakeport, on the west side of Clear Lake, is a beautiful small town with several historic buildings and a gorgeous park on the lakefront. We stopped there for a few minutes, admiring the view, watching a harvest operation clearing some kind of plants out of the water, and admiring the beautiful <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnegie_library">Carnegie Library</a> building that sits next to the park. The result Andrew Carnegie's philanthropy, Carnegie libraries were built across the country in the late 19th and early 20th century, and are exquisite example of the architecture of the period.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The library sits next to a waterfront park. And yes, the weather was this good!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another view of the park in Lakeport.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was some kind of clean-up operation on the lake.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whatever it was, they hauled a lot of it out with cool gizmos! Aqua-dozers!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the porch. Hard not to like!</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">We had a wonderful time, and arrived back at the B&B ready to relax for a while. We watched squirrels race around the lawn in front of our caboose (Caboose!) and sat on the porch of the main building for a long while, talking with Tony, our host. Eventually Peggy got home, they headed off for dinner with friends, and we wandered back to our temporary home.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The porch was a wonderful place to hang out!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We got a picture of a hummingbird at the feeder on the porch.<br />
Hard to see, but he's to the right of the feeder, at the edge of the roof.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve in his favorite place; the cupola!</td></tr>
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I worked and read for a little while, and Steve flaked out and took a nap. <br />
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By the time he woke up, we needed to get some dinner, which wasn't as easy as it sounds. Lake County's population is small, about 65,000, spread over more than 1,300 square miles. The biggest town, on the opposite side of the lake from us, is about 14,000 - so not a place for all-night dining or late-night entertainment. We didn't go out until after 8, a bad mistake when looking for food. We ended up with Taco Bell again, then home for a soak and some quiet time.<br />
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Tomorrow: More exploration, and the Highway that led to wine!</div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-72596465566079199812013-07-03T20:13:00.000-07:002013-07-04T17:15:48.896-07:00Day Two, Part Two: Christy Mystery Goes to Trees of Mystery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
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<i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (If you missed Part One,<a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html"> click here.</a> And Day Two, Part One is <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-two-part-one-christy-mystery-goes.html">here</a>.)</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve participating in one of the popular vacation activities: Photography!</td></tr>
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Taking pictures seems to be one of the main recreational activities along Highway 101. It quickly became a running joke as we passed vehicles stopped by the side of the road with their occupants deploying their tripods. "Look, photography is happening!" We laughed every time, as the word "Photography!" became a shorthand - but we were just as guilty.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And more photography. Of course.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And even MORE photography!! This man is addicted to cameras!!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhb79gBVGn4LeQypgDQuwTrtxGLHbT5SkNohYeM4cxjAkmYe72aorDQojSMGepLbhDxTYw2SSx0bAp2hmx_eA5NeUSirAkwvjagZtSm1w6EKSUVBrOfDcxY2KuoEO4iepFlaOT0HZVkA/s189/bike+illo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhb79gBVGn4LeQypgDQuwTrtxGLHbT5SkNohYeM4cxjAkmYe72aorDQojSMGepLbhDxTYw2SSx0bAp2hmx_eA5NeUSirAkwvjagZtSm1w6EKSUVBrOfDcxY2KuoEO4iepFlaOT0HZVkA/s189/bike+illo.jpg" /></a><br />
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One of the other main activities, one that frankly terrified me a good portion of the drive, was bicycling. Intellectually, I have no problem with people cycling. I know that it's good exercise, a great way to see the scenery, environmentally friendly, non-polluting - I've heard all the arguments in favor of cycling, and I agree with them. Just not on this particular highway. In many, many places the road is two lanes wide - two <i>narrow</i> lanes. Traffic, especially in the summer, is heavy. Drivers, as well as cyclists, are distracted by the views, the attractions, the sheer overwhelming beauty of the coast. Cyclists, even the most conscientious and considerate, can sometimes stray - sometimes by necessity - into the traffic lane. The bike lanes can be too narrow for actual riding, or broken pavement that a car or truck could tolerate will be too much for the narrow tires and delicate balance of a bicycle. Which makes sharing the road with a bicycle nerve-wracking. There isn't a good solution, cyclists have the right to be there, but it still can put a scare into you when you find one in your lane as you round a curve at the speed limit. I applaud their dedication, but it still scares me.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATyyTj_1Js8TFiErZRe230krvpLHug6NXFtxPX8ikw2XgtcXedqakqUxQeCzMiAFBeif8bzH0JzKkPZdPOl5cRz8AldvC4oV3nONYAQHd1OAd9NkjZZZaq3Z8v8wgk4BLJPsgrQh_fHA/s1600/FILE0194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATyyTj_1Js8TFiErZRe230krvpLHug6NXFtxPX8ikw2XgtcXedqakqUxQeCzMiAFBeif8bzH0JzKkPZdPOl5cRz8AldvC4oV3nONYAQHd1OAd9NkjZZZaq3Z8v8wgk4BLJPsgrQh_fHA/s320/FILE0194.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard to miss this! The tower is easily seen from the highway.</td></tr>
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One place we wanted to see in Eureka was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carson_Mansion">Carson Mansion</a>. Sure, it's photogenic and all, but we had a more unusual reason. Several years ago, I don't remember how, we obtained a large framed picture we believed was created to demonstrate the then-new "gee whiz" technology of computer plotter. It is a rendering of the Carson Mansion done as a complex line drawing, and we wanted to see the real thing, and get a photo to display alongside the rendering. We figured we'd be able to find the mansion easily, but we didn't know how easy! As we approached Eureka, I suddenly spotted the tower atop the mansion. Using it as a beacon, we were able to drive directly to the Mansion, home of a private club, and take lots of pictures from the street in front.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5JICIGMLJEx2cLOhUe78k5QFTPtw-bp__SAh-IqHP0xCzq3gXyR2xS8ruW7tL7F_ZPRdlcmILMGWuFl49dv4tp5TYDKC8bmkG3wumEADpjUFO0Jsb4jg4oa3ty34EhxR00gvIY3TMOc/s1600/FILE0206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5JICIGMLJEx2cLOhUe78k5QFTPtw-bp__SAh-IqHP0xCzq3gXyR2xS8ruW7tL7F_ZPRdlcmILMGWuFl49dv4tp5TYDKC8bmkG3wumEADpjUFO0Jsb4jg4oa3ty34EhxR00gvIY3TMOc/s640/FILE0206.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Carson Mansion is a rare West Coast example of Gilded Age architecture and design</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2agOA8CtABy0Yo3S_pN2a4wV0Vy6-zqXNiaVZFskUZbxGAFMapBWAQXGMMQ4NmEFTQgvhIsnt5OWtg4udenpupuHgp6hvgQjBq6rGJ2yr94PYTLPq7l9CxoMhaQDRbZ0SIeNw-wR7f9E/s1600/FILE0200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2agOA8CtABy0Yo3S_pN2a4wV0Vy6-zqXNiaVZFskUZbxGAFMapBWAQXGMMQ4NmEFTQgvhIsnt5OWtg4udenpupuHgp6hvgQjBq6rGJ2yr94PYTLPq7l9CxoMhaQDRbZ0SIeNw-wR7f9E/s400/FILE0200.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close-up detail of the tower.</td></tr>
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We took lots of pictures of the Mansion, and of various architectural details, including the ornate fence and fence posts in front, and the beautiful house - now used as an office - across the street.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCj8_nbBXTWPAHa4g5HtFbDNPFRvtwmgctk_FRDcuiRk81kcF8X8gOWWuaCIKYQoGMhrfOVji8hyphenhyphen9sILSxE1AeVg2XyTqhyphenhyphenywG37PEPA4ywiUv9J9nfJ_1dtHaA-tltPsBBQeBLVMMVzA/s1600/FILE0202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCj8_nbBXTWPAHa4g5HtFbDNPFRvtwmgctk_FRDcuiRk81kcF8X8gOWWuaCIKYQoGMhrfOVji8hyphenhyphen9sILSxE1AeVg2XyTqhyphenhyphenywG37PEPA4ywiUv9J9nfJ_1dtHaA-tltPsBBQeBLVMMVzA/s640/FILE0202.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another beautiful building, just a wee bit smaller</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJGBPP7_U8Jhq1dqBSlZG-jkdI2x7u-5YZJtuen0axuV6LRhOoBkS4qPXCfUxtnFBN9hgbaSSbqC7j1LVy2Eh2zhzYrREIv8QvX-qrIvcBeTfiawoyN7coqG3ngvszytfSeCOBd5dsnI/s1600/FILE0213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJGBPP7_U8Jhq1dqBSlZG-jkdI2x7u-5YZJtuen0axuV6LRhOoBkS4qPXCfUxtnFBN9hgbaSSbqC7j1LVy2Eh2zhzYrREIv8QvX-qrIvcBeTfiawoyN7coqG3ngvszytfSeCOBd5dsnI/s320/FILE0213.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of the ornate fence posts</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_1nI_K08RmbhzVwk7CJiA8jJUQs9RJMVSl9T-9cno5rZzDEDoOf_ErYpXGIrgFYwQ3MxaxlxGkA8yk0BaE0b00uoKNCpDHOX55hkn8mi2vvw0ymq-G49Xy3jkRMpSqdVtHI7GG4ryik/s1600/FILE0214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1_1nI_K08RmbhzVwk7CJiA8jJUQs9RJMVSl9T-9cno5rZzDEDoOf_ErYpXGIrgFYwQ3MxaxlxGkA8yk0BaE0b00uoKNCpDHOX55hkn8mi2vvw0ymq-G49Xy3jkRMpSqdVtHI7GG4ryik/s320/FILE0214.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and a view of the fence.</td></tr>
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By the time we left Trees of Mystery and headed south, I knew we would be pushing it to get to our B&B before their desk closed at seven. After our detour to the Carson Mansion, we stopped in Eureka to eat a very late lunch about 4, and called <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>, our intended destination. The gal who answered said to take our time, they would just leave our key in our room and the door unlocked.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtV-QZ3SBxt1AV5jo1W-YhWBrHlHNQ_eWxbUPy_q_3qgEEarW3TgBp1Z7qRsVHa3cALKAw0-0b6SWPXZZulhBpAaMXTZZzWj72hywd_5-oaBrBxaxRWZzsba451W4tP9Ira8205QzmJ_c/s1600/FILE0235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtV-QZ3SBxt1AV5jo1W-YhWBrHlHNQ_eWxbUPy_q_3qgEEarW3TgBp1Z7qRsVHa3cALKAw0-0b6SWPXZZulhBpAaMXTZZzWj72hywd_5-oaBrBxaxRWZzsba451W4tP9Ira8205QzmJ_c/s320/FILE0235.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We had already resigned ourselves to the prospect of having to backtrack rather a long way to see the Avenue of the Giants, but with the deadline of 7 pm removed, we decided to drive through on our way and save the added driving. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr2h272IR3qRW1bFPdQjd0aF8onVydUzWOlOugZgWSxmg2xiCrM701aJFAsyaa2NbBDkkzeFJFs4r8UD9J5jjsTKo7r1SGvRlok4n_Lp-XxaUYX3F1h8liCEVOmVIkaH-uLi2-nZXWJQ/s1600/FILE0232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr2h272IR3qRW1bFPdQjd0aF8onVydUzWOlOugZgWSxmg2xiCrM701aJFAsyaa2NbBDkkzeFJFs4r8UD9J5jjsTKo7r1SGvRlok4n_Lp-XxaUYX3F1h8liCEVOmVIkaH-uLi2-nZXWJQ/s320/FILE0232.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The drive itself was about 25 miles, and it took over two hours. We stopped again and again to marvel at one thing or another, and to stare up at trees that may have been standing during the Crusades. At one point traffic jammed up in front of us and we slowed way down. We quickly discovered the reason: a herd of elk, nearly in the road.<br />
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Here are some of the pictures we took while driving the Avenue of the Giants. We actually cut back to the highway a little before the end of the road, because it was getting dark. Amazingly, when we got out of the deep forest, it suddenly wasn't so dark!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluPIPGM4EOIjxJf8xcto4JMxG-V01aaeLSSR51DugajMEFWP9r_yvErZ0rU-pHM0TCM8Ax5KlhLEmbAC4_kpIach9zGbKk2QO1rPRg-RYhSzJS5mCjH3va21qSLE7uwzm4oU_RXSCjL4/s1600/FILE0234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluPIPGM4EOIjxJf8xcto4JMxG-V01aaeLSSR51DugajMEFWP9r_yvErZ0rU-pHM0TCM8Ax5KlhLEmbAC4_kpIach9zGbKk2QO1rPRg-RYhSzJS5mCjH3va21qSLE7uwzm4oU_RXSCjL4/s320/FILE0234.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_Nilyud3Ibx60f9IRbq9syjxi0gxxQOd4uy2TylBYNbmZ32wv84_s6oGXAxMjo6duphLYIW4bE9GK9M0PO9tDUOwy0tWSIKabk-zv1hq1n4WdAeyyHEWK-O-OTevUyzSChCuf_PglAY/s1600/FILE0238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq_Nilyud3Ibx60f9IRbq9syjxi0gxxQOd4uy2TylBYNbmZ32wv84_s6oGXAxMjo6duphLYIW4bE9GK9M0PO9tDUOwy0tWSIKabk-zv1hq1n4WdAeyyHEWK-O-OTevUyzSChCuf_PglAY/s320/FILE0238.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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These two pictures should give you some idea what it was really like to see these giants. A tree had partially uprooted, and leaned against its neighbors. Steve took several shots of the trees, impressed by their sheer size. Then he asked me to stand in front of them, to give the shots a sense of scale. Now I realize that I am not a tall person (5'1" if I stand up real straight), but you're going to have to look hard at that second shot if you want to find me. (Hint: I'm wearing a pink T-shirt.)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJNsRzGUqak3Yax7-mrzIoNja67qyvPpp58ZBBbrs3_Z7QDOOMZ_0fvB4fDhIY_leTjGRlW4j3NxLFBKW8r0YZUbsMF0k833V418eMXO5iJa_g_wRVqhlo0WUiihHMwRXbpXcmtk678o/s1600/FILE0243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJNsRzGUqak3Yax7-mrzIoNja67qyvPpp58ZBBbrs3_Z7QDOOMZ_0fvB4fDhIY_leTjGRlW4j3NxLFBKW8r0YZUbsMF0k833V418eMXO5iJa_g_wRVqhlo0WUiihHMwRXbpXcmtk678o/s640/FILE0243.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A leaning redwood...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAa05dx96DKrubnShPi5BrqcLmylN7MNo1wmiy0KyivFzYao6brCVecmRyrwDWgdkqZPWIor1psQtcONvJrqLN2eCCtTMgeshp8qae887S_WT0GaLRo8FapUItjTSN65t1swp0OyXEk0/s1600/FILE0244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAa05dx96DKrubnShPi5BrqcLmylN7MNo1wmiy0KyivFzYao6brCVecmRyrwDWgdkqZPWIor1psQtcONvJrqLN2eCCtTMgeshp8qae887S_WT0GaLRo8FapUItjTSN65t1swp0OyXEk0/s640/FILE0244.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and a scale reference. </td></tr>
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And who could resist the opportunity to have their picture taken in a hollow tree? Of course there wasn't really enough room for Steve to stand up, he is 6'6" after all, but there was still plenty of head room for him to sit quite comfortably.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx55N3KgCvXs_TpIpGjLTOSeiPF2nqv-cEeyO2Q2oKw_4A8wOIDZSECkSAvuA0x1doSUPysrru8VXTrKDV1PS8hYNtkMoZvWFAUhjmiCx9vMYTRbn5h3tIwtjbi1SPxFqnO58v2LnkSQ0/s1600/FILE0227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx55N3KgCvXs_TpIpGjLTOSeiPF2nqv-cEeyO2Q2oKw_4A8wOIDZSECkSAvuA0x1doSUPysrru8VXTrKDV1PS8hYNtkMoZvWFAUhjmiCx9vMYTRbn5h3tIwtjbi1SPxFqnO58v2LnkSQ0/s320/FILE0227.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, standing in a hollow log.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIl34FXKN2An22q59d1p2kttqImhMrm2vjeSW0xBeeOPQg2udiW3CY_FgzTLqOD3cpXru2eMa_BzcfqiD9OU21_jjE2trvJmFRYNLymJja9b4mRi8GFPp6uyNlaaICfSgnIGx2jNNm6A/s1600/FILE0229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIl34FXKN2An22q59d1p2kttqImhMrm2vjeSW0xBeeOPQg2udiW3CY_FgzTLqOD3cpXru2eMa_BzcfqiD9OU21_jjE2trvJmFRYNLymJja9b4mRi8GFPp6uyNlaaICfSgnIGx2jNNm6A/s320/FILE0229.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Steve sitting, because it wasn't quite tall enough inside.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOXeTpES8O2bj0GBey371KsAVNp5z3Q49wYBYbQHgaHKuVoFeWA61t-SKT38eK64sjW-VS7R_islHrAnzH1AWPJS7w9JO_N1XqFOryIoWklhgijxc6E0vu5gKWzAt1n7bpi0V9Im4djg/s1600/FILE0256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOXeTpES8O2bj0GBey371KsAVNp5z3Q49wYBYbQHgaHKuVoFeWA61t-SKT38eK64sjW-VS7R_islHrAnzH1AWPJS7w9JO_N1XqFOryIoWklhgijxc6E0vu5gKWzAt1n7bpi0V9Im4djg/s320/FILE0256.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Miranda, California, along the Avenue of the Giants.</td></tr>
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By the time we got through it was past seven, and we still had 100-plus miles to our destination. Fortunately, a good portion of that was on high-speed highway and freeway, and we made good time to <a href="http://www.featherbedrailroad.com/">Featherbed Railroad</a>, our home for the next three days. True to their word, our room was open and a key was inside.<br />
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Of course, this being us, this wasn't your usual B&B. Steve's too much of an introvert for the communal nature of a traditional B&B, and I don't deal well with people I <i>like </i>first thing in the morning, much less strangers. My co-workers know it's best to let me work alone in the morning until I've had several cups of coffee; the idea of sharing a hallway, much less a breakfast table, with strangers does not appeal to either of us. (Yes, we understand that some people love that kind of stuff, and we applaud them for it. It's just not for us, okay?) But <i>a private caboose?!? </i>How could you not love that?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21rom_IoUNzTOBP9am8m70_zosSn_5nGcQ__07_H1cq0hEdE9ZOKd2k2RbHg_WPnj7W9YN-7OTMlvMzd19DymH0bfn58lxKrUzeztrFpmXNMLXgLzFVeBmDeQn_6ex4Qci7ds-PlArzY/s1600/FILE0257+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21rom_IoUNzTOBP9am8m70_zosSn_5nGcQ__07_H1cq0hEdE9ZOKd2k2RbHg_WPnj7W9YN-7OTMlvMzd19DymH0bfn58lxKrUzeztrFpmXNMLXgLzFVeBmDeQn_6ex4Qci7ds-PlArzY/s320/FILE0257+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first view of the cupola, after dark.</td></tr>
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Turns out you can't. We unloaded the car in the dark, and hauled our bags up into the caboose. We found a real featherbed, a jetted two-person tub, and a cupola. A cupola, for heaven's sake!! We got settled a bit, then drove off to find a late dinner. By that time it was 10:30 on a Monday, so most things were closed. But we managed to find a Jack In the Box (gourmet fare, I know!) and grabbed a quick bite.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2B50IUuTtGcTPhrxq7HU2eisKhockZ9diWvN01C_gmp42GpQBhzmhrApxVw9gGsc8fwS4N7PB8FgXTinD2zeHRgYWn-3-DD8e1xoDXdRFvSVL1BX80sbinkZSmSPmTleuuR_2Olnras/s1600/FILE0258+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2B50IUuTtGcTPhrxq7HU2eisKhockZ9diWvN01C_gmp42GpQBhzmhrApxVw9gGsc8fwS4N7PB8FgXTinD2zeHRgYWn-3-DD8e1xoDXdRFvSVL1BX80sbinkZSmSPmTleuuR_2Olnras/s400/FILE0258+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first look at our caboose, looking at the tub from the door.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGmkfMaKtaI0QHlPX-ovY3qkOow-GT607GW6iN7WxmWTPKhzaViOuVjvdHedkH8i7HvFHoFnLRxm5vgp6XMBCDPAqHdIJYIBwsEZWeTXCJAN-9FPEWxWuS5CLNY2jp0KTOTHpdTUHA6M/s1600/FILE0259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGmkfMaKtaI0QHlPX-ovY3qkOow-GT607GW6iN7WxmWTPKhzaViOuVjvdHedkH8i7HvFHoFnLRxm5vgp6XMBCDPAqHdIJYIBwsEZWeTXCJAN-9FPEWxWuS5CLNY2jp0KTOTHpdTUHA6M/s400/FILE0259.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking the other direction, from the tub toward the door.</td></tr>
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Back in the caboose (it makes me giggle just to type that!) we settled in for the night. I soaked in the giant tub, we read a little while, and finally turned the lights out and slept in our cushy bed <i>in a caboose</i>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsyXzpt-1W3niJ9_UTX9gYKl8xMKK-0QNvN2ZBP9JdYGH41f3QS8l8JVT5U3snSF_fbmF-RkoX9uuEB_bLDwcIg_PEJHrNFKf4CsY1ue6JyhGjMJTC7MmtCmqmt45SezWPVLkStXl7Ek/s1600/FILE0261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGsyXzpt-1W3niJ9_UTX9gYKl8xMKK-0QNvN2ZBP9JdYGH41f3QS8l8JVT5U3snSF_fbmF-RkoX9uuEB_bLDwcIg_PEJHrNFKf4CsY1ue6JyhGjMJTC7MmtCmqmt45SezWPVLkStXl7Ek/s400/FILE0261.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy was waiting for us on the edge of the tub. He looks almost as happy as we were to be there.</td></tr>
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Tomorrow: another adventure awaits!!<br />
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Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-13190135981567430942013-06-28T00:07:00.000-07:002013-06-28T00:07:31.698-07:00Day Two, Part One: Christy Mystery Goes to Trees of Mystery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8T18oDoWA2-tAfE9J89IaGvDpGnedP3WTn9M1G60Uqra3UUmW0ZSkYVpwkbLEDOLJS5i45h__F9GDQ0oUvv0YTheqWfRRs0WPw6RifIlRkUy6RKVwXjN_Iq1Tjs_nWacpnB4FlIQuct4/s1600/FILE0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8T18oDoWA2-tAfE9J89IaGvDpGnedP3WTn9M1G60Uqra3UUmW0ZSkYVpwkbLEDOLJS5i45h__F9GDQ0oUvv0YTheqWfRRs0WPw6RifIlRkUy6RKVwXjN_Iq1Tjs_nWacpnB4FlIQuct4/s320/FILE0038.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them. (If you missed Part One,<a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2013/06/day-one-adventure-begins.html"> click here.</a>)</i><br />
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Day Two: Christy Mystery Goes to Trees of Mystery<br />
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(I thought I was going to do a post for each day, but when I started putting in the photos I decided this had to be in at least two pieces. We'll see if I can get it all in two ...)<br />
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Slept, not late but until 9 or so. Then up for a quick breakfast at the <a href="http://bestwesternoregon.com/hotels/best-western-plus-beachfront-inn">Best Western</a> in Brookings, and on the road to California. Down 101 through Crescent City to Trees of Mystery. Yes, Christy Mystery went to Trees of Mystery.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wonder Stump Road, one of the storied places in the Redwoods</td></tr>
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Along the way, though, we had a couple adventures. Several years ago we drove through the Redwoods and saw a road sign for "Wonder Stump Road." We promised ourselves we would come back someday and try to find out what is a "Wonder Stump." Well, Steve did a little investigating and found that it was an old, old stump, named long ago. It had fallen and then a tree had grown out of it. It was on a postcard in the 1930s or 40s and became famous because of it - here's a link to the <a href="http://www.visitredwoodcoast.com/content/wonder-stump/nco1AB72FCA9A45FBB7C">National Geographic page</a> about the Wonder Stump.<br />
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It is now on private property, and we heard it is nearly rotted away, so we didn't get to see the actual stump. What we did see (and, sadly, failed to get a picture of) was a one-lane road through massive trees that came right to the edge of the pavement with exposed roots occasionally intruding into the single lane. In one place the road took a sharp right turn to avoid a giant tree that had been left standing right in its path. It was simply one of the most impressive things I have ever seen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The street sign for Star Trek Lane, with no signs, of course!</td></tr>
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We also stopped to take a picture of a street sign that wasn't there. Which was exactly what we expected. You see, on the map that shows Wonder Stump Road there is an intersection with Star Trek Drive. Now we <i>had </i>to see that - but we didn't believe for a minute that the road sign would be there. We fully expected that it would have been stolen, and we were right. We took a picture of the empty pole to prove our point.<br />
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Finally, after our drive down Wonder Stump Road and on through Crescent City, we reached the Trees of Mystery. This is one of those roadside attractions that was born in the late 40s, in the boom that followed the end of the Second World War. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wd_igHEbCjuSVBqR-LlK7QyRQDFjgo9dRwRFG5HNDFSL9goO18DlSlAmElDs4dI_RgR-v-BVMyq4jViGA9iWWxigNUZijWyTqggYNowrChorsxHA_Ags89uhMHrNPDNcSrqC0w13-ec/s1600/FILE0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4wd_igHEbCjuSVBqR-LlK7QyRQDFjgo9dRwRFG5HNDFSL9goO18DlSlAmElDs4dI_RgR-v-BVMyq4jViGA9iWWxigNUZijWyTqggYNowrChorsxHA_Ags89uhMHrNPDNcSrqC0w13-ec/s320/FILE0052.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Bunyan, icon of Trees of Mystery</td></tr>
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There are "life-size" statues of Paul Bunyan and Babe in the parking lot, inviting you into the attraction, From there you pay admission and start up a path that leads through an old-growth redwood forest. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul's famous Blue Ox. Babe</td></tr>
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The main trail is 8/10th of a mile and has some ups and downs. It's a fairly easy walk, especially since visitors want to stop every few feet to take in the sights.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGYGshsoB8X8QG2eBCTHIaND8fTt8q5rZqM5wyo-OPYJmaeanxEZ0Jj0xWDLOsO5sffrFnnCFoWxFdaM6j_qvFp_xaZMtmulf4SSh1HjjqTETbNRHfZPxFbSQwL_gGAThCWlUHcgX09w/s1600/FILE0060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGYGshsoB8X8QG2eBCTHIaND8fTt8q5rZqM5wyo-OPYJmaeanxEZ0Jj0xWDLOsO5sffrFnnCFoWxFdaM6j_qvFp_xaZMtmulf4SSh1HjjqTETbNRHfZPxFbSQwL_gGAThCWlUHcgX09w/s400/FILE0060.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">World's Largest Family Tree. Impressive? You bet!!</td></tr>
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One of the many fascinating things along the path is a "family tree." This is a tree with multiple trunks growing vertically from its branches. These new trunks start from branches that are 40 or 50 feet (or more) off the ground. The picture here is of the largest family tree, with twelve trees growing up from the branches on a single tree.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the uphill stretches along the main path. </td></tr>
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Partway through you reach the lower terminal of the Sky Trail, a 1/3 mile gondola ride through the trees that rises 571 feet to the upper station. Once there, the view is breathtaking. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One the gondola cars on the Sky Trail</td></tr>
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The ride is pretty spectacular, too; seven minutes of gliding through trees hundreds of feet tall in a small observation car. The capacity of the cars is supposed to be six, but some of them better be little kids!<br />
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The ride soars over a trail that can be hiked from the base of the ride to the upper terminal. It is only recommended for hikers in reasonably good physical shape, equipped with proper footwear. We decided riding was the better choice.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGJRRTRXO-IyxVHa1FDCXJhAp0r67lcxpv3BhODGBl54YvH5qbUpvuniltnxLetOuTPd4REvwo_0zCaStv-kb5bexR5Xo1rMXYjRspBk1l0CAF4XsbIRLkpxTBKsd8csey2-6w-95WCU/s1600/FILE0148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGJRRTRXO-IyxVHa1FDCXJhAp0r67lcxpv3BhODGBl54YvH5qbUpvuniltnxLetOuTPd4REvwo_0zCaStv-kb5bexR5Xo1rMXYjRspBk1l0CAF4XsbIRLkpxTBKsd8csey2-6w-95WCU/s400/FILE0148.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking down the hill at the car in front of us</td></tr>
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Below the car you can also see a rough staircase which, according to the ride operator, is used to access the towers for maintenance.<br />
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As I said, the view from the top was amazing. You can see for miles, incredible vistas of mountains and forests. There are also a couple osprey nests in the distance, though I wasn't able to get a really good photo of them as .they were so far away. And in the other direction I could see the ocean<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_CAq0YHmuA1u7L6wqOKgIq7cI1nYS_5lQESuK-yYQSJBpvIYTn8O5HXflZG2xkgFtdKxUkF7Nbpac649t2ty3Llk-YbMWkU5w_ek2YpKFebHFPJK0K77Jg9rMbpwDdq72YV8MLgsBe0/s1600/FILE0133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_CAq0YHmuA1u7L6wqOKgIq7cI1nYS_5lQESuK-yYQSJBpvIYTn8O5HXflZG2xkgFtdKxUkF7Nbpac649t2ty3Llk-YbMWkU5w_ek2YpKFebHFPJK0K77Jg9rMbpwDdq72YV8MLgsBe0/s320/FILE0133.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocean to the west, and ...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDu_axviR0t6O4p-BHEkJm0oecY6YySiwHZhomtcidkTD3Ot-2XkN8ZPaxtliHSvKg3f-aQjw3Lto494qfipQYvB190_4-zmwqJTwk9GTWP9j7Lue0cyTCWjTG7LHZuGGnD9zMYIkXkuY/s1600/FILE0135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDu_axviR0t6O4p-BHEkJm0oecY6YySiwHZhomtcidkTD3Ot-2XkN8ZPaxtliHSvKg3f-aQjw3Lto494qfipQYvB190_4-zmwqJTwk9GTWP9j7Lue0cyTCWjTG7LHZuGGnD9zMYIkXkuY/s320/FILE0135.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mountains to the east. Spectacular!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAY3uEGKl4Igk_puhOaJa22SsyqLDnnj6HnpEELcCE8IQA5PSIj_BjdqF0Dm3o4NldeA5bgWlw9hQvDLgPlhpKMYEGQ0xTs_bKqTG4LvQkEEAQNDzCyPV03KCBe7kr8BfbrdsU2hYD6aM/s1600/FILE0158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAY3uEGKl4Igk_puhOaJa22SsyqLDnnj6HnpEELcCE8IQA5PSIj_BjdqF0Dm3o4NldeA5bgWlw9hQvDLgPlhpKMYEGQ0xTs_bKqTG4LvQkEEAQNDzCyPV03KCBe7kr8BfbrdsU2hYD6aM/s400/FILE0158.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This isn't even the Wonder Stump, but it's pretty impressive!!</td></tr>
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I was surprised at how much time we actually spent in Trees of Mystery. I went prepared to walk and gawk and get back on the road, but we actually spent close to three hours, stopping to take pictures and crane out necks trying to see the tops of trees that towered 200 feet and more above us. We exchanged picture-taking with a couple families, so that they could all be included in their vacation pictures, something that made us both happy, and gave us the chance to have pictures of the two of us together.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMYHJvzS0_en6-kQ0nnKFtl500voTJ1c64Fbf1lopYvjrn7XdeU7WP_8ILZZZfa4Cu3CJLQHMzAqMThObrO7s_cku3RkTmieYhRHhLH6KNXfOmuUhBcCubKUbYRWs_Q6RIO3i-cSuzOQ/s1600/FILE0163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMYHJvzS0_en6-kQ0nnKFtl500voTJ1c64Fbf1lopYvjrn7XdeU7WP_8ILZZZfa4Cu3CJLQHMzAqMThObrO7s_cku3RkTmieYhRHhLH6KNXfOmuUhBcCubKUbYRWs_Q6RIO3i-cSuzOQ/s400/FILE0163.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christy Mystery and the wonderful husband, writer J. Steven York</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7pBAOocs1Y3_dm0nfIrwNeWJOlse91TZyhsjkG5i751mL51B-WCC7Iz5fjIPt0AIyav55WeqzPj2Pqa98cQ_mwHRgkD5uNx8Bm-veYUzj8aj2tIWUwuHJSS5OsVH9B24zURvR6EEqNY/s1600/FILE0189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7pBAOocs1Y3_dm0nfIrwNeWJOlse91TZyhsjkG5i751mL51B-WCC7Iz5fjIPt0AIyav55WeqzPj2Pqa98cQ_mwHRgkD5uNx8Bm-veYUzj8aj2tIWUwuHJSS5OsVH9B24zURvR6EEqNY/s400/FILE0189.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still holding hands, after all these years!</td></tr>
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When we reached this carving, there was a man taking a picture of his wife in front of the carved heart. I offered to take their picture together, which seemed like a good idea to me. He wasn't so sure, but his wife grinned at the suggestion and quickly dragged him over next to her. It would have been churlish to refuse her offer to reciprocate, wouldn't it? <br />
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So we had our picture taken in front of the giant carved heart. Our picture-taking couple were amused by our holding hands, but we still do, after nearly thirty years together. Yeah, we're like that.<br />
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Hang on, the day isn't over! Stay tuned for Day Two, Part Two, in which we visit Eureka and the Avenue of the Giants,</div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-6700078882058117532013-06-26T00:38:00.000-07:002013-06-26T00:38:44.235-07:00Day One: The Adventure Begins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nX5Rpp2Jj3j996nsK-Uj6m0SumuxlA8Kr26ywLsTvzXkLnq3WCBr8yXpc_xXfw-3BCiN1v7bA1wKdXUFCHbZRjhYWs56_qqWmCP7PVj0Li_PjGgrnG-zMxYXTtScVUMjYdH2vWl1D_8/s1600/FILE0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nX5Rpp2Jj3j996nsK-Uj6m0SumuxlA8Kr26ywLsTvzXkLnq3WCBr8yXpc_xXfw-3BCiN1v7bA1wKdXUFCHbZRjhYWs56_qqWmCP7PVj0Li_PjGgrnG-zMxYXTtScVUMjYdH2vWl1D_8/s200/FILE0007.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<i>Introduction: I recently passed a milestone birthday, one of those numbers that as a child seems so impossibly large that you never expect to get there. It came at the end of two years of personal disaster (see <a href="http://christy-evans-mystery.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-case-of-vanishing-writer.html">this post</a> for an explanation, if you haven't already read it), and at a time when I desperately needed something good in my life. I tossed around a lot of ideas of how to celebrate surviving the last year (lots of hospital time was involved) and making it to my birthday. Finally, my husband and I decided to go see the Redwoods. We had driven through several times, but always on the way to somewhere else. This time, we would just head south and see what we could see. We did some searching, settled on a few (very few!) priorities, and started making plans. Somewhere along the way, we discovered a cool resort south and east of the big trees, where every "room" was a converted caboose, and decided that would be fun and unusual, exactly what we were looking for. </i><br />
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<i>These posts are my daily reports of our trip: the things we saw, the places we went, and the people we met as we drove approximately 1,500 miles in the course of six days, and had an adventure. I tried to write down my impressions each night before bed, or over my first cup of coffee in the morning. I wanted the memories to be fresh, undiluted by another day or days of travel and experiences. I can only hope you enjoy reading them a fraction as much as I enjoyed living them.</i><br />
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Day One: The Adventure Begins<br />
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The day got off to a good start. We left home more or less on time, and had beautiful weather for the drive down the Oregon Coast on 101. We knew today was going to be a slow day mostly spent driving in preparation for the major sight-seeing to come.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhBliPTZb0UCud_GAEaQG_ljELD3onvrxq5GarxLuyhAxCC0NyvCOCzgGkWn0lucYdvVQHV4v5AKETlhemralfYQfMkwNxFzVtk4NCZ_9VDZN_W6F2O8_VAzmYu_ds5dBgBi2x6CL_Rc/s1600/FILE0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhBliPTZb0UCud_GAEaQG_ljELD3onvrxq5GarxLuyhAxCC0NyvCOCzgGkWn0lucYdvVQHV4v5AKETlhemralfYQfMkwNxFzVtk4NCZ_9VDZN_W6F2O8_VAzmYu_ds5dBgBi2x6CL_Rc/s320/FILE0027.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it really was this beautiful!</td></tr>
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We stopped in Florence, Oregon, for gas, but mostly we moseyed along with traffic and enjoyed the views. Stopped several times for photo ops --<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DO1ekn7fmpJlWgkrugjqYgIV5308PGY2EEp3K0LpqCaBQf5yb2i-Dg-EeNWgRHbgY72PrwhFiYV5MPyJ1ObCfhdlwMEB9IFTj7MjY4OoYQWOw8KF_aoPgMUHfFxrdTbyTJDAKzJ3NDQ/s1600/FILE0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DO1ekn7fmpJlWgkrugjqYgIV5308PGY2EEp3K0LpqCaBQf5yb2i-Dg-EeNWgRHbgY72PrwhFiYV5MPyJ1ObCfhdlwMEB9IFTj7MjY4OoYQWOw8KF_aoPgMUHfFxrdTbyTJDAKzJ3NDQ/s400/FILE0029.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite cameraman J. Steven York, taking in the view</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnszFsXnQPZD8_4v1feamrXNW_yIuAJdM8DQQBLBBwGwSlinzR2if_Ea-yAgXpXiZNaMgefcHuF3TwEtg5GZO5M80PEsMb6h_eRL4_4-zbyfGkd_sRoCsHIxFAzi__O9WfAdapotQeVw/s1600/FILE0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnszFsXnQPZD8_4v1feamrXNW_yIuAJdM8DQQBLBBwGwSlinzR2if_Ea-yAgXpXiZNaMgefcHuF3TwEtg5GZO5M80PEsMb6h_eRL4_4-zbyfGkd_sRoCsHIxFAzi__O9WfAdapotQeVw/s320/FILE0037.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yours truly, just enjoyin' the sunshine</td></tr>
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including my first post-birthday shot, at a sunny spot along the highway. The beautiful weather and reasonably light traffic put us in good spirits for the first day's drive. Switched drivers in Coos Bay, after a late lunch at Taco Bell.<br />
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After we left Coos Bay, we made a stop at <a href="http://www.oregonjam.com/">Misty Meadows</a> in Bandon to pick up some jam for a friend (hi, Colleen) and some for us. I got peach, and Steve got apple jelly, which he says he hasn't had since he was a kid.<br />
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Made the hotel <a href="http://bestwesternoregon.com/hotels/best-western-plus-beachfront-inn">(Best Western Beachfront, Brookings</a>) about 5:30 and check-in was quick and easy. Settled in and listened to waves for a little while, then finally pried ourselves up and out for dinner. There is a restaurant next door that is supposed to be good, but we will never know. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZdGgczCZBoznHT82qFMreUwRwsln59BZnxhpa7_2MYT8zrYmPEwDH8VfT8uab276cF8j73j_7Z9hpoK5aPv_4kQlsgOrOl2a06tOBRRE_cv7oMuHl2rytt7q0O-zHW1n0_Uiii1KUFg/s1600/lines.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZdGgczCZBoznHT82qFMreUwRwsln59BZnxhpa7_2MYT8zrYmPEwDH8VfT8uab276cF8j73j_7Z9hpoK5aPv_4kQlsgOrOl2a06tOBRRE_cv7oMuHl2rytt7q0O-zHW1n0_Uiii1KUFg/s200/lines.JPG" width="200" /></a>We tried, really we did. When we arrived there were people in the dining room, but no hostess, just one guy sitting and waiting in the lobby. We waited, too.<br />
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Waiters came by at least three times and promised that "She'll be right with you." Two different customers brought their tickets to the counter. One spotted their server and handed him the check. The other customer joined the wait. <br />
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Eventually the hostess showed up carrying three bags of to-go food. She stopped and ran the waiting woman's check, then tried to ring up the to-go, but there was some serious confusion about the order - it was for the guy who'd been waiting when we got there, I think. But she was so mixed-up, it was hard to tell if she was giving him the right food. He seemed to think she wasn't<br />
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We weren't particularly upset, the day had been far too good to let this spoil the day, but by this time we'd been there for 10 minutes or more, no one had even talked to us, several more people were waiting behind us, and it was clear the hostess was in way over her head somehow. According to the specials board, dinner prices were in the $30+ range, which would mean $70-80 before tip. <br />
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We decided to cut our loses. After all, if the front of house was that big a mess, could we REALLY trust the kitchen? And we didn't want to start our trip with an expensive (by our lights) meal that was a disappointment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2UGUo-l41PCFEYiNk4vhXSMkgxPp42JnAMpY5GQCIN8wAHHM99lK9barooIfFVDcTvPKIVfYddho1JylS0OIiExtnFVgDf2nEw_9KLgmOZKk9C360r3QC9Kc1SwxjlzELTgHJyxkJAM/s1600/Best+Western+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2UGUo-l41PCFEYiNk4vhXSMkgxPp42JnAMpY5GQCIN8wAHHM99lK9barooIfFVDcTvPKIVfYddho1JylS0OIiExtnFVgDf2nEw_9KLgmOZKk9C360r3QC9Kc1SwxjlzELTgHJyxkJAM/s320/Best+Western+view.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those are Steve's feet, pointed toward the windows of our room</td></tr>
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We walked back across to the hotel and got our car. We drove around for a little bit, but didn't see many open restaurants. <br />
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Determined not to let the silly restaurant put a damper on an otherwise-marvelous day, we picked up chicken at KFC, ate in the hotel room, and spent the rest of the evening relaxing. It was good company, cheap food, and a table by the window with a view of the beach. Not bad!<br />
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It is nearly midnight, and I think we're about to call it a night. Haven't turned on the TV, or opened up the computer. I'm actually typing this (very badly) on a rubber-key rollup Bluetooth keyboard, into the blog via a wireless connection on Steve's Google pad. It isn't perfect, but it's sure easy to carry around!<br />
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Tomorrow, Trees of Mystery and a cool place to stay for the next three nights. More to come!!<br />
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J. Steven Yorkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00005909772287389627noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-48450602985042706312013-06-18T19:50:00.001-07:002013-06-18T19:50:28.338-07:00The Sound of Breaking Glass; or, Engage Writer BrainSomehow this post never got published. Let me take care of this Right Now!!<br />
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There are times when it is extremely difficult not to indulge in the time-honored writer habit of Making Things Up. It is, after all, what we are paid to do: sit alone in a room and Make Things Up. I've talked about that before, but it's a part of an incident that happened last week.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLWRSkOsodW-rpDFUAhaTRJ2H8g3PMgJpxzyDNC4uoo0_B3c0WFrPSvtdrOq3GOuBjwk14tjJhLQkk59wqaUFBv_l8BzpqQfyoqoV6DGsm_1fwdvdDSir1SS5tjBLfMi98Mykl0bRkek/s1600/signing-threesome-IMG_4863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLWRSkOsodW-rpDFUAhaTRJ2H8g3PMgJpxzyDNC4uoo0_B3c0WFrPSvtdrOq3GOuBjwk14tjJhLQkk59wqaUFBv_l8BzpqQfyoqoV6DGsm_1fwdvdDSir1SS5tjBLfMi98Mykl0bRkek/s320/signing-threesome-IMG_4863.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L. to R. Barton Grover Howe, Christy Fifield, M.L. Buchman</td></tr>
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I was in a friend's shop for a book signing of Murder Hooks a Mermaid. It's a combination antique shop and bookstore, a delightful jumble of treasures from the last two centuries, collectibles (especially glass and apothecary items), and new and used books.<br />
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I was at one end of the shop when I heard a noise near the cash register. The sound of breaking glass. That's a scary sound in a shop full of breakables, but it got worse. The noise didn't stop, and it was accompanied by the crash of something heavy falling over.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZURL17Zoc0YMLGe0Kh396y0KmJA8nYZb3a79HYj1yBoPZfJ3qBubhknmyCZIiVT3_CEqQCkpW4Yt45MF7wxgTR-Az7-R-DXXpkNo8vrka1w7Q7dZFYbnva9bw93mQ6REyDzPpX0sLntw/s1600/signing+disaster+before-IMG_4859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZURL17Zoc0YMLGe0Kh396y0KmJA8nYZb3a79HYj1yBoPZfJ3qBubhknmyCZIiVT3_CEqQCkpW4Yt45MF7wxgTR-Az7-R-DXXpkNo8vrka1w7Q7dZFYbnva9bw93mQ6REyDzPpX0sLntw/s200/signing+disaster+before-IMG_4859.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another customer, a woman with two bargain-table books in her hand, had jostled the owner who was walking behind her, knocked him over and in the process knocked over an entire display case. She managed to topple thousands of dollars worth of antiques. She knocked over one display case, thereby breaking out the glass front of a second case, and destroyed an entire case of antiques, including some unique and irreplaceable pieces.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmiIjmMAgF0buKgR5heL6sOjwk8MH_2V43kGX-kBOUCwNEKmu_liMzPRoiqZJynV43LR93erOL08DwRuo0CCh7bvf8ibp2Lu5poNfINnoIUl9Ryl6bQORYIXBq7JKO6TFWELMu8mMXYY/s1600/signing+disaster+after-IMG_4868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmiIjmMAgF0buKgR5heL6sOjwk8MH_2V43kGX-kBOUCwNEKmu_liMzPRoiqZJynV43LR93erOL08DwRuo0CCh7bvf8ibp2Lu5poNfINnoIUl9Ryl6bQORYIXBq7JKO6TFWELMu8mMXYY/s200/signing+disaster+after-IMG_4868.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And After</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
She asked the owner something like "Did I do that?" in a way that clearly implied that she didn't, and hurried out of the store, leaving her books on the counter. Fortunately, the store is insured, and no one was injured, in spite of the piles of broken glass. But the emotional impact of losing several irreplaceable pieces is a blow my friend will need time to recover from; and we don't know yet what the financial implications will be.<br />
<br />
As my husband and I talked about it later, I had to keep from ascribing motives to the woman who knocked over the display. It felt as though she high-tailed it out of the store without any attempt to take responsibility for the destruction she caused. But maybe she truly believed she was innocent and left because she was embarrassed. As I said, I was making things up.<br />
<br />
I also realized that, given what I've been writing, this scenario (or something very much like it) will undoubtedly appear in a future book.<br />
<br />
And this is where the Writer Brain comes in.<br />
<br />
Writer Brain is a symptom all writers seem to manifest. It is that moment when you detach from some awful event and start storing details to use later. It's a way of dealing with painful or disturbing situations.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDb2Ubm81SfpYnbklS58BHXAbN9a7mjocxMEyrbQy0oq36eFeLMhWJIOfD9xEbftRtW_zCZpBXw5QwHpMnTzUKOWOsphivn7-Iel1URyyRTtnKO2Wu7wzr37yguqjwwsizHOesBkcKDU/s1600/ambulance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDb2Ubm81SfpYnbklS58BHXAbN9a7mjocxMEyrbQy0oq36eFeLMhWJIOfD9xEbftRtW_zCZpBXw5QwHpMnTzUKOWOsphivn7-Iel1URyyRTtnKO2Wu7wzr37yguqjwwsizHOesBkcKDU/s200/ambulance.jpg" width="200" /></a>An example? At the beginning of my summer medical odyssey I took an ambulance ride. About ninety miles with lights and sirens, in the middle of the night, headed for a regional medical center and emergency surgery. It should have been terrifying and stressful, and to some extent it was. But Writer Brain took over. It quickly occurred to me that this might be the only time I got a close-up look at the inside of an ambulance and I started looking around, trying to store up all the details I could, to use later.<br />
<br />
So last week's disaster will show up in a book sometime, just as calls from our police scanner have formed the basis of certain scenes, and other painful - or joyous - personal experiences have informed other stories.<br />
<br />
It's the curse (and the blessing) of Writer Brain.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-85691226539258555872013-04-12T12:59:00.003-07:002013-04-12T13:03:59.490-07:00Fake Wine In The NewsFor the fans of Georgie Neverall, here's a link to a news story about fake wines.<br />
<a href="http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2013-04-12/billionaire-koch-wins-12-million-verdict-in-wine-trial.html">http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2013-04-12/billionaire-koch-wins-12-million-verdict-in-wine-trial.html</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaDayW8Vw0WLVkf9FhlJ4SMhM5r1E0DjPjMl9r1y6IF5I1kjL19QHs_fwZDWlmc3skTcRmjrKVbecI99H84bXtSzffb6VmXZG4VIpjvWOPGQI_3aNidQ99CscQ9oUQjFgJN2snH57Sjg/s1600/vinegar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaDayW8Vw0WLVkf9FhlJ4SMhM5r1E0DjPjMl9r1y6IF5I1kjL19QHs_fwZDWlmc3skTcRmjrKVbecI99H84bXtSzffb6VmXZG4VIpjvWOPGQI_3aNidQ99CscQ9oUQjFgJN2snH57Sjg/s200/vinegar.jpg" width="190" /></a>And a link to the book that started me down the road toward writing about a fake wine con job:<br />
<a href="http://www.benjaminwallace.net/home.html">http://www.benjaminwallace.net/home.html</a><br />
<br />
Yesterday's verdict, and today's award of punitive damages, reminded me of the fascination I felt reading Wallace's book. It's a look inside a world where a single bottle of wine, untasted and untested, can fetch six or seven figures at auction. A world where those seven-figure bottles are never opened, where no one ever drinks the wine.<br />
<br />
I have never even <i>seen </i>a bottle of wine that cost more than a few hundred bucks. Well, maybe once, in a Las Vegas casino liquor store I saw a four-figure bottle or two. But never up close and personal. And I have certainly never had a glass of anything even in the hundred-dollar price bracket. I don't think I'd ever be a wine snob, even if I could totally afford it. But it was fun to read about.<br />
<br />
How about you? Anyone had a <i>really </i>expensive wine? Was it worth the price (even if someone else paid for it), and if so, why?Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-16005870498277831162013-02-15T18:28:00.000-08:002013-02-15T18:28:01.831-08:00Keyboard Tricks and TreatsSo, I'm working like mad to finish the last couple chapters of MURDER SENDS A POSTCARD. I am at the keyboard all day, typing and tweaking. Trying not to freak out that this book has to get done.<br />
<br />
Then I get an email from a friend of mine. I have to admit, I have no idea where she got this picture, or who should get credit for the awesome that infuses it. All I know is that it's a good thing I do not know the source, and don't have time to search for it. Otherwise, I would be trying to figure out how to get my hands on one. Right Now!!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SkJnRSoK1X6t3HwUHSM5tjNVivbfYKSLT8XBCsp54cmLz614erqlzTiL60axM1Ooe5H52nsbmLfug-JZ0f135u4fFvsdVbKtm6XJgUa6wklo4sj00TfQ9c6vmFSX-OCufELVAwX6NPs/s1600/candy+keyboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2SkJnRSoK1X6t3HwUHSM5tjNVivbfYKSLT8XBCsp54cmLz614erqlzTiL60axM1Ooe5H52nsbmLfug-JZ0f135u4fFvsdVbKtm6XJgUa6wklo4sj00TfQ9c6vmFSX-OCufELVAwX6NPs/s640/candy+keyboard.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I may have to go buy graham crackers and chocolate frosting, just to deal with the craving!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-59344165455298452412013-02-02T16:57:00.000-08:002013-02-02T16:57:07.110-08:00Brand name failureAs regular readers of this blog know, my Dear Husband is a wonderful - and VERY warped - man. After nearly 30 years together, we share the same unfortunate sense of humor. So today, while we were in the grocery store he pointed to something in a frozen food case and declared that he did not want <i>that</i>.<br />
<br />
I asked him to point out exactly what he meant, and then I completely understood:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyHCHNavSzPuiKlrB8wSrnFRPV4os5On0it5qQYL7qknS4ByyDhExVVyKndP3W1w-5H3OjDn5xlRHFA6JimuHPcqqNwG2Md6owDG2BrmKy2TFD-rokaHxRSGivvMC7VxOO6lsQsU7UKo/s1600/CSI+fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyHCHNavSzPuiKlrB8wSrnFRPV4os5On0it5qQYL7qknS4ByyDhExVVyKndP3W1w-5H3OjDn5xlRHFA6JimuHPcqqNwG2Md6owDG2BrmKy2TFD-rokaHxRSGivvMC7VxOO6lsQsU7UKo/s640/CSI+fish.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get this box to the lab, stat!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I waited for the guys in blue booties and latex gloves to show up, but they never did.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-41207965251700656202013-01-28T15:55:00.000-08:002013-02-02T14:59:13.703-08:00A Continent Away<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijAmC-wubzq1_fvCfV4AsIFfO9YbKMl1Ie37DX9jiymVa2b2CFpmkta53VwuaOgqURCoecWji3OrctEIk2RQ6M4-NkapAoFAcqTX0HuVoM1ZDKyo7ZCntGSWAxZACCP3VDjynAYUpmUY/s1600/IMG_5891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijAmC-wubzq1_fvCfV4AsIFfO9YbKMl1Ie37DX9jiymVa2b2CFpmkta53VwuaOgqURCoecWji3OrctEIk2RQ6M4-NkapAoFAcqTX0HuVoM1ZDKyo7ZCntGSWAxZACCP3VDjynAYUpmUY/s320/IMG_5891.JPG" width="240" /></a>I watched the Presidential inauguration today. No matter who you support politically, the ceremony itself and the surrounding festivities appeal to something in each of us. It shows our country making a peaceful transfer of power, or reaffirming our trust in those already in power. It resonates with each of us in one way or another.<br />
<br /></div>
Today, as I watched from the other side of the continent, I was reminded how much I loved my trip to Washington last spring, what a wonderful time I had with my mother and sister. I saw places we had been, things we had seen together, and I could not help thinking how much Mom would have loved watching and pointing to places she'd been. She had a wonderful time on that trip, and I am grateful we had that week together.<br />
<br />
I was also reminded what a lovely city Washington is, how much I enjoyed my last visit, and why I want to go back. I want to take my husband and show him the things I shared with Mom and Jeri, the places we saw and the things we did.<br />
<br />
Malice Domestic gives me another reason to return to DC, but this year the timing is not quite right. If I get to go, it will be just for the weekend with no time for sightseeing or playing tourist. No time for the wonderful restaurants I discovered, or the monuments I missed. It would mean a cross-country round-trip on a four-day weekend-or three days if I can find an overnight flight that would get me into DC early enough on Friday.<br />
<br />
So this year I won't get to visit DC with Steve, but I hope it won't be too long before we make the trip together. I hope we can have enough time to explore the things we want to, but I have a hunch that is going to take several trips.<br />
<br />
I'm willing to make that sacrifice!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-70357120538215055342013-01-02T00:41:00.000-08:002013-01-02T00:41:11.024-08:00A New Year, and a New Release<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmV1D37OMPSrl1J81DVXfRHPBcAEKPoFEl5ZxBKC7HS9H8OCuCq3XRROh6y74-rxaDU8vmODQkgG96UBQ2emRvEV-yobXLKisS-VSke6gt9IRvnWOE9TQtxc-bYJOXVZpqQZGUZTwJ2U/s1600/mermaid+cover.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEmV1D37OMPSrl1J81DVXfRHPBcAEKPoFEl5ZxBKC7HS9H8OCuCq3XRROh6y74-rxaDU8vmODQkgG96UBQ2emRvEV-yobXLKisS-VSke6gt9IRvnWOE9TQtxc-bYJOXVZpqQZGUZTwJ2U/s200/mermaid+cover.jpeg" width="123" /></a></div>
2012 is finally a fading image in my rear view mirror. It's been a tough year, maybe the toughest year I have ever faced. But today, with the arrival of 2013 I am able to put the old year behind me, and look forward to the new. Sure, there will be challenges, and I am not 100% just yet, but I am much better than I was a month ago, and miles better than the month before that. On the 10th of December last year (man, am I glad to be able to say that!) the wound care facility declared me healed, and officially released me from all follow-up care. Much as I appreciated all they did, I was just as glad to say good-bye. It was a friendly break-up though, and I took them some lovely parting gifts.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The other good news today is the release of <strong><em>Murder Hooks a Mermaid</em></strong>, the second book in the Haunted Gift Shop series, along with my friend Julie Hyzy's <strong><em>Fonduing Fathers </em></strong>(Thanks, Julie, for the great review posted above). Here's the cover blurb:</div>
<br />
<em>Nestled in Keyhole Bay, Florida, Glory Martine’s souvenir shop, Southern
Treasures, is supposed to trap tourists—not ghosts. But a possessed parrot may
be just what Glory needs to solve a murder...</em><br />
<br />
<div>
Inheriting her great-uncle Louis’s bayside souvenir shop should have been a
breeze for Glory. Instead it’s been one headache after another—with a lot of
them generated by Bluebeard, a parrot with a mouth like a sailor and a
personality a lot like her late great-uncle. But Glory’s troubles pale in
comparison to those of her best friend Karen, whose ex may still have the
personalized key chain to her heart, but whose brother-in-law is about to get
locked up.</div>
<div>
</div>
A diver has been found with a gaff hook in his chest, and Karen turns to
Glory to help get her brother-in-law off the hook for his murder. But casting
the net for the real killer won’t be easy. Glory and Bluebeard are about to find
out that the secrets in Keyhole Bay run deeper than anyone ever imagined…<br />
<br />
<br />
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<span class="swSprite s_expandChevron"></span><a class="showMore" href="http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Hooks-Mermaid-Haunted-Souvenir/dp/0425251845/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357108327&sr=8-1&keywords=murder+hooks+a+mermaid#">Show More</a> </div>
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<span class="swSprite s_collapseChevron"></span><a class="showLess" href="http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Hooks-Mermaid-Haunted-Souvenir/dp/0425251845/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357108327&sr=8-1&keywords=murder+hooks+a+mermaid#">Show Less</a> </div>
<noscript></noscript>Yep, we get to know Karen's ex, who made a cameo appearance in <strong><em>Murder Buys a T-Shirt</em></strong>, as well as his troublesome brother. There's more Bluebeard, and more Jake, and especially more of Sly and Bobo. I didn't know those last two were going to turn into such important characters when I started this series, but once they showed up I knew they had a story to tell. (And there's also more of Sly's story coming January 15th at <a href="http://notesfromme.wordpress.com/">Dru's Book Musings</a>.)<br />
<br />
I am currently working like mad on Book 3, with a working title of <strong><em>Murder Sends a Postcard</em></strong>, which should be out late this year (Yay, 2013!). As always, if you want a signed copy of any of my books you can contact my local booksellers: <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/stores/north-northwest-books">North by Northwest Books and Antiques</a>, or <a href="http://bobsbeachbooks.net/">Bob's Beach Books</a>.</div>
Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6917001844554946687.post-11261894127043983972012-10-15T04:06:00.000-07:002012-10-15T04:06:50.254-07:00The Great Cookie MysteryWith all the Southern cooking going on around our house as research for the Haunted Gift Shop series (hey, it makes a good excuse!), I am constantly picking the Official Taster's brain for ideas. I want to know what dishes he remembers from his childhood, the things his mother, grandmother, aunts, friends, and neighbors cooked.<br />
<br />
One evening recently, he started telling me about a cookie his Mema used to make. He couldn't remember what she called them, but as he talked, I realized he was describing what I knew as a Russian Tea Cake. Curious, I called on my Google-fu and started looking for recipes and history. What I found was a basic shortbread cookie with nuts added, and many, <em>many</em> names.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLK-C-AR-NvzQGC8550G4pQ4gHQX-d67X2XtZO0iLJmjdsZEWTZd7YBwIDzzAvTaiOYXBTv5MRlIruKGdMGXV4YAgQrzskMexKobVQJfM7r_gXBzTw5PAPGoFP4uCWRYQxEnO28iPdb3U/s1600/finished+cookie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLK-C-AR-NvzQGC8550G4pQ4gHQX-d67X2XtZO0iLJmjdsZEWTZd7YBwIDzzAvTaiOYXBTv5MRlIruKGdMGXV4YAgQrzskMexKobVQJfM7r_gXBzTw5PAPGoFP4uCWRYQxEnO28iPdb3U/s200/finished+cookie.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do <strong><em>YOU</em></strong> call these?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Online, I found Russian Tea Cakes, certainly. I also found Southern Butterballs, Viennese Crescents (though with a variation in shape), Biscochitos, Kourambiethes, Moldy Mice, Rohlichky, and Mexican Wedding Cookies. At work, I offered several people samples, and asked what name <em>they</em> knew them by. My boss, who grew up in Pennsylvania, called them Italian Wedding Cookies. Another friend said they were Mexican Wedding Cakes, and a couple Mexican friends identified them as Polvorones. Intrigued, I went back to online searches, and found Polvorones, with the speculation that the name was derived from the word "polvo," meaning dust, or powder. Other friends called them simply Wedding Cookies.<br />
<br />
I found versions with pecans, hazelnuts, walnuts, almonds, and poppy seeds. Some recipes called for an egg, others did not. There were variations with all butter, all lard, or a combination of the two. The ratio of flour and sugar to ground nuts varied from 4:1 to 1:1. Some had vanilla, some cinnamon, some chocolate, and one included orange zest. Polvorones are said to date to 16th century Spain, with several regions claiming ownership, and some references claim the Spanish were introduced to them from Medieval Arab cuisine.<br />
<br />
Of course I had to make a batch, which the Official Taster pronounced good, but not <em>exactly</em> the same as Mema's. However, there are dozens of recipes for every one of the many names, so I'll keep experimenting until I find that magic combination that perfectly matches his recollection.<br />
<br />
Making the cookies:<br />
I started by toasting the pecans. I have a stash of very good pecans in my freezer, thanks to the generosity of my mother- and father-in-law, who harvested them from their trees and shipped them to us. I placed a single layer on a cookie sheet in a 350 degree oven for about five minutes, then let them cool. This richens the flavor and helps reduce the tendency to turn into paste in the food processor. When they were cooled, I put them in the food processor with a tablespoon or so of flour (another trick to help you get chopped, not pureed, nuts) and pulsed it until the nuts were finely chopped.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrYjAhqmchsM1zYOQkL9cokyUIpnWFYnlaYNPnsG_tFsVzn5BawsOLziv79UKlvz_VYkis8FYx1kAoIlEYP2GMFJR3sgpUUPoKfNPH2CUkJiG_bYrRxjYgL8d75XOtLBI4BqTw2xoug4/s1600/IMG_6062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrYjAhqmchsM1zYOQkL9cokyUIpnWFYnlaYNPnsG_tFsVzn5BawsOLziv79UKlvz_VYkis8FYx1kAoIlEYP2GMFJR3sgpUUPoKfNPH2CUkJiG_bYrRxjYgL8d75XOtLBI4BqTw2xoug4/s320/IMG_6062.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few simple ingredients is all it takes</td></tr>
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With the nuts ready, I measured the flour, powdered sugar,and vanilla, and softened two sticks of butter. These are very rich, though they don't have a lot of sugar; the flavor comes from the butter and the nuts.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU8GUWERUpuD5GBieBtME9MPKF38bjylDhckV-o653ZsajARp1ZvX6NiEEnMU9UWS7KXm96XcKo95ckwve6LTargUxqPO150PzPkM1m0krb7i1jBMT7HmesdP9-Y1_Tv2lq4H6gDXqQE/s1600/IMG_6065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU8GUWERUpuD5GBieBtME9MPKF38bjylDhckV-o653ZsajARp1ZvX6NiEEnMU9UWS7KXm96XcKo95ckwve6LTargUxqPO150PzPkM1m0krb7i1jBMT7HmesdP9-Y1_Tv2lq4H6gDXqQE/s200/IMG_6065.JPG" width="200" /></a>The butter should be at room temperature, soft enough to work. The dough can be mixed by hand (which I did) but a stand mixer is well-suited to this dough. If the butter isn't soft enough, give it a few seconds in the microwave.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYU8GUWERUpuD5GBieBtME9MPKF38bjylDhckV-o653ZsajARp1ZvX6NiEEnMU9UWS7KXm96XcKo95ckwve6LTargUxqPO150PzPkM1m0krb7i1jBMT7HmesdP9-Y1_Tv2lq4H6gDXqQE/s1600/IMG_6065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Mix the flour, powdered sugar, nuts, and vanilla into the butter, just until it forms a ball in the bowl. You want the dough to hold together, but don't overmix. Refrigerate the dough for an hour or so, in order to make it easier to handle, then form it into small balls on an ungreased cookie sheet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjNDYNxqv1nEOriHmuUvmAmKnqKa1vBxm7nVnS6vvGkKwWlRlOFlYZRNK2Zvl60brK2iEaZ9cX6560pYaZ1VXl2lK6T6kgddeOk6pUC4JH5R7lYhJbEhIvW5C9XaTyxW4D_Z6R7NUYmU/s1600/IMG_6066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOjNDYNxqv1nEOriHmuUvmAmKnqKa1vBxm7nVnS6vvGkKwWlRlOFlYZRNK2Zvl60brK2iEaZ9cX6560pYaZ1VXl2lK6T6kgddeOk6pUC4JH5R7lYhJbEhIvW5C9XaTyxW4D_Z6R7NUYmU/s320/IMG_6066.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cookies ready for the oven</td></tr>
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Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes. They will be faintly golden.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUsAZOmEsjQrVQ7J2c5RV-5c4N4fgvat7VlxdwieMlyKO38OiliDBJzr-dbgrF0UuyTco6whdCNPeoKRuKDdG76t0FhXDgRD9SU99zNHP_5foVHSa4IEFw07nF8xkIdbyKovtyjfLnTc/s1600/IMG_6068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzUsAZOmEsjQrVQ7J2c5RV-5c4N4fgvat7VlxdwieMlyKO38OiliDBJzr-dbgrF0UuyTco6whdCNPeoKRuKDdG76t0FhXDgRD9SU99zNHP_5foVHSa4IEFw07nF8xkIdbyKovtyjfLnTc/s320/IMG_6068.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After baking. Gold, not brown</td></tr>
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Now comes the fun part. Let the cookies cool for a couple minutes on the baking sheet, then roll them in powdered sugar.As each cookie is rolled in the sugar, place it on a cooling rack. The sugar will cling to the hot cookies, but it will tend to melt into them because they are still warm. That's just fine.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnk3uavdkOIwnxU6xh01R4iBN0259j122QB_cjNCIQlmlgxlNNS7J8UvgPMDe60k_GQBHM7Z_ZlNoBGnnsWNPM97uD-1qxRecwMQCJXIJvY3R9XpivOvUbDHAReFuv8ybg8BHw8TfwMVU/s1600/IMG_6070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnk3uavdkOIwnxU6xh01R4iBN0259j122QB_cjNCIQlmlgxlNNS7J8UvgPMDe60k_GQBHM7Z_ZlNoBGnnsWNPM97uD-1qxRecwMQCJXIJvY3R9XpivOvUbDHAReFuv8ybg8BHw8TfwMVU/s400/IMG_6070.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're going to get sugar on your fingers, and that's okay!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTr-T6BYSyXsqfr_lSAnf0EGqAT_rSOrwVDyknthjDCfVLsx1o35QK9gpoSUgopsSHBOS9X-W-F298Wijq7KMmtRWkw_w-U9P02e8Dk6mJoxQ5bKkdzBPDluU1ALY3C2QTqNsO7spmRw/s1600/IMG_6073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilTr-T6BYSyXsqfr_lSAnf0EGqAT_rSOrwVDyknthjDCfVLsx1o35QK9gpoSUgopsSHBOS9X-W-F298Wijq7KMmtRWkw_w-U9P02e8Dk6mJoxQ5bKkdzBPDluU1ALY3C2QTqNsO7spmRw/s320/IMG_6073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Resist the temptation to nibble, and let the cookies cool. Because once they are cool, you are going to give them another coat of powdered sugar. You can also sift powdered sugar over them, but I like to roll them, making sure the entire surface of the cookie has a coating of soft white.<br />
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One tip: If you place your cooling rack over a clean cookie sheet, you can use the powdered sugar that falls off to roll the cookies the second time. Because there will be sugar that falls off!<br />
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After the second coat of sugar, the cookies are ready to be packed in an airtight container, and enjoyed for several days, or weeks. As if there will be any left that long! </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xuhjuwb13B2XNlwtjJjXraYfj83rqd6v9Tbij-coICgsdHwM67KpzcR4o-0w_8HOhqDWIpH_4J7Rp8B-smerOcSdwrlHGgfRbahTdAZ9FyieacuuWcx9A4GhCdj9J24FUiBTNe9OMSk/s1600/IMG_6074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xuhjuwb13B2XNlwtjJjXraYfj83rqd6v9Tbij-coICgsdHwM67KpzcR4o-0w_8HOhqDWIpH_4J7Rp8B-smerOcSdwrlHGgfRbahTdAZ9FyieacuuWcx9A4GhCdj9J24FUiBTNe9OMSk/s400/IMG_6074.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With a second coat of powdered sugar. Yummy!!</td></tr>
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The Cookies of Many Names</div>
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2 sticks butter, softened</div>
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2 cups flour</div>
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2 cups chopped nuts - your choice of pecan, walnut, almond, or hazelnut</div>
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1/2 cup powdered sugar, plus more for coating</div>
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1/2 teaspoon vanilla</div>
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Mix dry ingredients into softened butter, along with the vanilla. Stir, or mix at low speed on stand mixer. When the dough forms a ball in the bowl place it in the refrigerator for an hour. The cold dough will be easier to handle.</div>
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Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Remove dough from refrigerator and roll into small balls, about the size of a walnut. Place them about an inch apart on an ungreased cookie sheet, and bake for 10-12 minutes, until they turn light gold. Remove from oven and allow to cool on the cookie sheet for a couple minutes.</div>
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While the cookies are still warm, roll them in powdered sugar, coating all sides, and place on cooling racks. Once they have cooled completely, roll them in powdered sugar again, and store in an airtight container.</div>
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Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02637010194234948441noreply@blogger.com0