I don’t know why but some things just catch your eye – speak to you – and make you want to look at them. For instance – I like the way palm trees look against a blue sky – or even better – a stormy one. I like the way a Sierra lake mirrors the trees around its rim. I like the way a nicely decorated room draws you in and makes it hard for you to get out. I like the way one white hydrangea looks in a vase of roses, the way light dances on the bottom of a pool on a sunny day and the way candlelight flickers across a dinner table. I like the silent look of a city street at dawn. And I really like an old sign – a neon sign that glows against the night – or just a sign that’s been out braving the elements and surviving – like this one I saw in Salt Lake City. Continue reading
I noticed something this summer. It’s something I kept hearing from the college kids who returned home for break. Well, besides the footfalls on the front porch which came with much greater frequency when my daughter Margaret – my college freshman – was home. From my perch in my bedroom – I noticed there was a lot more traffic out there on the porch. It started with the footsteps – quick energetic ones – and then the door bell would ring. Our bell is a bit old and anemic so if you’re not used to it you’d never know it’s the door bell, but we do. After the bell, I would see the kids. And from them I heard a chorus – so happy to be back in Oakland and so excited to get to their favorite places and enjoy their favorite foods – food they’re not finding in their college towns. In fact One of my Favorite Girls of All Time looked at me when I asked her how much she loves Villanova – she said, “Well, the food isn’t good.” Continue reading
I have always wanted to swim in the pool at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. It’s the one the artist, David Hockney, was commissioned to paint. It finally happened for me. I slipped into the water to swim laps and every time I took a breath I looked up to see palm trees or the Hollywood Roosevelt neon on the roof of the hotel. And when I looked down I would see Hockney’s big long brush strokes on the bottom of the pool. I might have been in heaven.
There we were, in Chicago. It was about ten o’clock at night. We checked into our hip boutique hotel on the Magnificent Mile. We were about a half a block off Michigan Avenue at Ohio. We swished open the drapes in our room and it became clear we were not going to be sticking around for the view — as charming as it was.
No, we were hungry. My husband wanted to check out a bar (preferably dive). Always. I wanted to check out the food scene (preferably slow, locally grown, organic, grass fed). If possible. So, we decided on a crawl. When you crawl you go from one bar or restaurant to the next. You don’t stay long. You just check it out… have a drink… a bite to eat…move on. That way you can get a little more out of a night on the town. Continue reading