Vacations seem to be a feast or famine kind of deal in our household. Generally we try to snatch one big trip (east coast) every other year and pad the interval with something smaller and local. This year, however, due to some fortuitous changes in my work duties, the flood gates have been opened. April took us to Tennessee and Georgia (which I never blogged about… hmmm), July found us in Mammoth and Convict Lake, and now, lazy August whisked us away to Nor Cal and beautiful Petaluma! I don’t expect to have a run like this again for a long while, so I am committed to appreciate it!
The trip to Petaluma has a rather complex backstory, and it kind of reinforces a lot of what I’ve long believed about Stacy. I’ll start at the beginning. Stacy has a dear Japanese friend, Hiroko Tanaka, whose daughter K was in L’s class at school for two years. The two girls became very good friends and so did their moms. When the Tanakas left the Los Angeles area a little over a year ago we threw them a going away party at our house. Since the party was for them, Hiroko and her husband Nobutaka were encouraged to invite anyone they wanted, even if we did not know them. Hiroko invited another family, the Balches, that she was very close with that we did not know at the time. At the party Stacy got to spend some time with the mom, Christine Balch. And this is where that strange Stacy magic comes in. I don’t know how she does it, but in 5 minutes Stacy can disarm and charm anyone. In no time at all a total stranger will be a bosom buddy, confiding deep and complicated issues and trials. I’ve often followed Stacy through a checkout line and been shocked and amazed at how instantly people open up to her. I get sour looks, but Stacy gets life stories and email addresses. Go figure. And my take is that Chris has a similar warm, friendly and disarming personality. So Stacy and Chris hit it off quickly. Within a week she was visiting Chris at her place up on PV, and not long after got an invite to come up and stay with her at her place in Petaluma, about 30 minutes north of San Fran. Hiroko, now in Detroit, on hearing of it, was shocked. Chris never invites people if she doesn’t really like them and seriously want them to come, she said. If you can do it, she advised, you really should. The place in Petaluma is beautiful. Nevertheless, we were hesitant to take advantage of that, and there wasn’t really much opportunity with my work at the time anyway, so the invite remained open, but shelved. A couple of months ago, however, Hiroko and her daughter K scheduled an August trip to California to see all their friends, and the subject came up again. This time the timing constraints were all different and it all just fell together naturally, so Stacy and I and our two kids, along with Hiroko and K, made plans to drive up state and spend a week with Chris at "Balch Castle" in Petaluma. I was still a bit apprehensive as we actually set out about two weeks ago. Other than the crowded Tanaka going-away party, I had never met Chris or her husband Tom, and only barely had a chance to talk to them at the party, and I’m kind of an anti-Stacy: I’m not one to immediately engage with people I don’t already know fairly well. But Stacy and Hiroko assured me all was good and that I would have a great time.
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| N's travel outfit does not promise hours of comfort. |
We set out on a Sunday afternoon following a morning at church. We picked up Hiroko and K in Torrance and piled all their worldly goods into the minivan filled with ours and headed north. Traffic was surprisingly heavy going up the 5 on a Sunday afternoon, but we were not terribly pressed for time, which was fortunate, because we seemed to stop every 15 miles for a potty break for someone. (Why is it kids’ bladders can never agree on a common schedule? I should investigate what I could term the Theory of Entropy and Bladder Synchronization!) We conveniently timed our dinner for Split Pea Andersen’s in Santa Nella, which succeeded in making us all sufficiently sleepy for the final two hour drive before us.
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| Color coordinated for Potty Stop #317 |
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| Pea Soup Time!!! |
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| Balch Castle back in 1897 |
We arrived in Petaluma a little after 10:00pm, logging over nine hours on the road. Wow! What a place! Christine, the Queen of Balch Castle, who is an early-to-bed and early-to-rise type, had pulled her equivalent of an all-nighter when she greeted us at the door and quickly gave us the condensed intro-tour.
Balch Castle was built in the mid-1800’s and is a multi-story cacophony of towers and stairwells and stained glass windows. Exquisite woodwork detail and what must be 12-foot ceilings, opulent hardwood floors and butler pantries all combine to make a set out of a
Great Gatsby movie. A thousand nooks and crannies and little alcoves promised hours of exploration and hiding out. But tonight was not the night for that! We marched up the grand and regal main staircase with its huge, offset Tiffany windows and elaborately gothic carved banisters; L and K squealed to be assigned a room together. Hiroko won the prized turret room; Stacy and I shared a second tower room on the front of the house with virtually floor to ceiling windows curving around it, which, in the morning, would look out on the dense trees and gardens that are the front lawn. N bunked with us, but Miss Christine made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. There were two extra beds in our room and she said he could sleep in whichever one he wanted. When he couldn’t decide she told him he could sleep in one bed one night and the other the next and just alternate back and forth. N just about peed his pants with the thrill of such an opportunity. He showed me that at least some of Stacy's suave genes trickled down when he went over to Miss Christine, took her by the hand and looked up sincerely into her eyes: "I feel like royalty," he said, "because you are letting me stay in your castle."
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K with Miss Christine's
grapes |
The next morning, much later than was polite, we drifted awake to a mansion filled with an incredible smell. Drawn like zombies to the kitchen, Christine had prepared us a huge breakfast with eggs and toast and fresh cut fruit. There were a half-dozen varieties of fruit to choose from and what didn’t come from her own yard, Christine said she got from friends and neighbors around town. It was all perfectly tart/sweet and juicy. The source of the intriguing aroma that had summoned us was a plate of breakfast sausages that we set upon greedily. They were phenomenal! Tender and moist and richly flavored, they were a transformation of the lowly sausage to something ethereal. Christine smirked at our wonder and revealed her secret: she boils them in a can of beer, letting it all bubble off, and then browns them in the glaze that remains. Unbelievable! Hiroko had warned us that something in the air in Northern California just made everything taste better. So far nothing to contradict that theory!
Monday was designated a down-day. Our most ambitious plans were swimming in the big backyard pool, and a meander down a few blocks of D-street to Petaluma’s old town center. We comfortably achieved those goals, but were careful not to tax ourselves with any extras!
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| Smelling the poppies on D-Street |
Downtown Petaluma is überquaint, with lots of small shops and trendy restaurants; but the thing that most intrigued L, N and K was Powell’s Sweet Shoppe, with more kilocalories per square foot than anywhere else on the planet. Of all the bazillion candy options available, the one that the kids most ardently gravitated to was the one I'm most surprised Nancy Pelosi allowed sold anywhere near her district: Candy cigarettes! Feeling a small measure of counter-cultural protest rising in my blood, I was easily persuaded to allow the kids to buy them. I hope my bold act of civil disobedience would be appreciated on Haight Street.
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In my opinion only K pulls off the youthful disinterest.
L is a poser and N just looks like FDR. |
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| Artsy downtown |
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| Walnut Park dare-devilry! |
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Crest on a park outbuilding. It's called
"Walnut Park" and everyone knows
squirrels love walnuts, so it all fits, see? |
Ironically we had already recovered from the primary disappointment that was to color our trip – the night before we’d gone online to get tickets for the tour of Alcatraz to find that they were already sold out. For the entire week! L was particularly devastated. She wanted to see Alcatraz more than anything else in SF. I’m not exactly sure what drives this otherwise sweet and gentle child to her occasional grim fascination with the macabre. T-Rexes and bloodthirsty sharks were the first in a line of obsessions that now includes America’s most notorious prison. The day was crisp and clear and you could see Alcatraz, large and ominous, taunting us in the bay, but try as we might, no act was criminal enough to secure us passage to the Rock. (As a consolation we bought her some black and white stripped socks that said ALCATRAZ on them.)
We did the touristic ablutions on Pier 39 as required – we poked around the shops; the kids rode the merry-go-round, we climbed the musical stairs. We even had a decent clam chowder at a the Boudin Bakery.
From there we meandered to Fisherman’s Wharf where the U.S.S. Pampanito, a World War II vintage submarine, was docked. There were a lot of displays and exhibits on the War in the Pacific. It was especially interesting to read them with Hiroko whose perspective was quite interesting. L even got a chance to shoot a hull-mounted machine gun. (In my little fantasy world!)
At Ghirardelli Square we suffered greatly at the chocolatiers and then the ice cream parlor.
As we crossed back over to Aquatic Park beside the square we noticed the long line for the cable cars that climbed Russian Hill on Hyde Street. We debated a while whether or not to endure the line, but decided eventually to do it. After about a 30 to 40 minute wait we were at the front of the line and waved on through. Stacy, Hiroko, K and L all found the steps and stationed themselves inside the cabin. N and I had bigger, more exterior plans.... 
