More images "before and after"

Today was payday for mommy. I'm sure this seems an odd day to be getting paid, but mommy has an odd job.

Something I have been waiting to do, due to a lack of funds, is get haircuts for myself and the girls. Diana has been wanting her hair to be a bit shorter, and Amelia desperately needed to get her bangs out of her eyes. Both girls got their hair done this morning, and both of them now look prettier than ever.

When we arrived at the hair salon this morning, Amelia and Diana headed straight for the hair cutters' chairs (which, in this case, are actually cars). Diana was a bit faster than Amelia and scrambled into a red hot rod before anyone could ask her to wait her turn. Luckily, someone was available to cut Diana's hair. Even more fortunately, there wasn't a lot of protest or other difficultly when I asked Amelia to get down off the side of her Hummer and wait until someone would be available to give her a trim.

I guess this means I'll have to stop calling Amelia "Joey Ramone" and "Chrissie Hynde."

And while I've been putting off paying for haircuts, I've also been postponing making my blog updates. Most importantly, I haven't listed two new California Historical Markers.

Marker #436 is located on the edge of a park in Ripon. We often pass through Ripon on our way to and from Fresno, but this is the first time we actually exited Highway 99 to visit the town. Ripon seemed like a nice little community, and the park's playground was a fun spot for the girls to run around during the long trek through the valley.

Historical Landmark 915 is located outside a gift shop that also sells admission tickets to explore California's only petrified forest. In fact, if my memory serves me, I believe this to be one of only three petrified forests of its kind in the USA. The odd thing is I'm pretty sure I have visited a petrified forest before somewhere in either Arizona or New Mexico. I was a teenager at the time and not especially excited about the trees of stone, but I do remember my trip to the "Old Country" (Oklahoma) as a pretty memorable adventure overall.

I do wonder how much the girls will remember about all of these excursions into and around California. If they forget a lot of what we have seen together, will they look back through the photographs of all of these plaques and think their mom was a bit of a nut? I guess only time will tell.

Lisa

P.S. Yes, that is Diana's coffee. She asked for some of her own when we went to Starbucks - so I got her a decaf. latte. This girl is going to be a big bundle of bad dietary habits by the time she's five if I'm not careful.

Our out-of-town scoreboard

One again, I had a reason (however dubious) to go to Tracy. Once again, I found a historical marker in the vicinity that we could cross off our list.

California Historical Marker #777 is in a fairly remote location surrounded by farmland. I guess that explains why someone (or some individuals) felt they could steal the historical marker without being caught. Marker #437, which was also misappropriated, was off on its own as well, if I remember correctly.

After trekking down the road 500 feet to get a photograph of the sign indicating where the marker was supposed to be, I started to wonder how much progress I had actually made in my quest to visit every marker. (And after seeing some nasty roadkill along the path, I wondered if this was all worth it.)

Looking mostly here at the blog I have determined that Amelia, Diana and I have now visited about 18 historical markers. I say "about" because the girls slept through one visit, and I have driven by at least one strange looking marker that I did not photograph. But let's not quibble over the fine print and simply say that so far we have visited 18 markers.

According to information available on the Office of Historical Preservation website, there are more than 1,070 historical landmarks in California. I guess that means we still have to visit another 1,052 (or so) landmarks if we want to see all of them. And we're reaching a point where the landmarks are getting further and further away, making the task a bit more challenging.

But of the landmarks we have seen thus far:

two plaques were missing and presumed stolen,
one was "tagged" with graffiti,
one was blocked by a pick-up truck,
and two of the locations did not have actual historical plaques of any kind

Still, despite the stolen and vandalized markers, the creepy roadkill, and who-knows-what-else we may have to face, I still think this is a worth-while endeavor.

I wonder if a near complete collection of California Historical Markers would be enough to convince someone, somewhere, to give me admission to a graduate program in California history...

Lisa

The good, the bad, and the snobbish

Last Friday, I decided that the time had come for us to use up our Cosco gift card. We've had the gift card for two years or so - I guess we just never get around to going to Cosco. Going to Cosco last Friday, for only the second time ever as a shopper, I was reminded of why I generally don't like shopping at Cosco. To me, it doesn't matter how good of a price I can find on apricots and cherries if they come in such massive packages that I know half of the fruit will be rotten by the time I'm finished with it.

Regardless, I had made up my mind before I left the house that I would look for a Historical Marker near the mega-store. I plotted my route with Google and set off down the road.

The road to California Historical Marker #740 was long. All along the route I kept my eyes open for a second marker that was supposedly nearby, but it wasn't found. After several minutes of driving I was about to give up my quest. Luckily I remembered that this marker was located at a Vehicle Recreation area and when I finally spotted some hills that had been carved up by vehicle traffic, I knew I was close by.

When I reached the gate leading to the Carnegie State Recreation Vehicle Area I was disappointed to read that I would have to pay an entrance fee to search for my plaque. However, after speaking to the park ranger at the gate, I had her convinced that my daughters and I had no intention of going four-wheeling in the big, red car. In fact, not only did she allow us to enter the park for free, she also knew (after a quick check) where the historical marker was located.

The girls and I parked close to the target, but not so close that my car would necessarily be in any photographs I took of the plaque. The girls were more enthusiastic about being in my pictures than usual. In fact, Amelia even took a couple of pictures of mommy and Diana in front of the marker. One turned out pretty good.

After we got our shot, the girls wanted to play. They had been in the car for quite a while, so I wanted them to be able to get out and run around a bit. I didn't feel we could go very far away from the entrance, since they had been nice enough to let us in without paying a fee, but the girls found their own fun in collecting rocks. The pile they made was impressive enough for a couple of photographs and made me think, once again, that Amelia really needs to sit down and watch The Long, Long Trailer.

Today, the main reason for traveling out of town was so that everyone in the family (except me) could visit the doctor. Daddy had the longest, and most intensive appointment, so I thought I would find a nearby marker while he was undergoing his procedure.

Of course the first task involved getting both girls their flu shots. I foresaw that going very poorly. Once one of the girls had her shot and cried, it would be almost impossible to get the second daughter to sit still for her vaccination. Surprisingly enough, things went incredibly smoothly. Not a single tear was shed, in fact there were no complaints at all.

So once the girls got their shots and band-aids, we were off. It took some time to find the first street we were looking for. Once we found that first street, everything fell into place - until we got to the road that the marker was supposedly on. Google maps indicated that the marker was on the right-hand side of the street. I drove the entire length of the road (to a reasonable distance) back and forth but I didn't see a marker anywhere. I finally decided to go to a nearby winery in the hope that they might know where I could find either the Cresta Blanca Winery or the plaque that indicated where it had been.

The first person I spoke to was the valet who parked cars at the Wente restaurant. He was very helpful and knew that the tasting room was adjacent to the Cresta Blanca banquet room. He said we could wander about the grounds as we wished and he seemed certain that the employees in the tasting room would be able to assist us.

So we drove around to the tasting room and parked nearby. I brought the girls with me into the tasting room and asked if any of the three or four people working knew where the historical marker might be. Most of the group was baffled and confused by my request, but one young man knew exactly what I was talking about and brought me directly to the marker. I was surprised to find that the marker was next to a cork tree that was only about 100 feet from the tasting room. It amazes me sometimes that people can work somewhere and have little to no knowledge about the areas around them.

Our visit to the Wente winery wasn't quite like our earlier visit to Hop Kiln. While the employees at Hop Kiln were friendly and chatty, the sommeliers at Wente were stand-offish and snobby. The winery was clearly designed for well-off individuals to enjoy and not for the likes of my little traveling band. Their loss - when the thousands of individuals who frequent my blog realize what snobs work at Wente, I'm sure their business will collapse. (Of course I'm kidding.)

While we were wandering around the winery I got a phone call saying that Mike's procedure was going to take much longer than expected (apparently, the doctor scheduled to perform this procedure was a tad bit late coming in this morning). Since we had lots of time to kill, we went out to lunch and then to a playground near the medical center where daddy was being seen.

The girls had a great time playing in the warm sun. Diana sang one of her new favorite Disney songs while she played. Of course, Diana doesn't know many of the words, but she's happy to repeat the bits she knows over and over again...

"Can you feel the love tonight?
Why won't he be the king I know he is?
The king I see inside.

Can you feel the love tonight?
Why won't he be the king I know he is?
The king I see inside.

Can you feel the love tonight?" (etc.)

Amelia has recently been having fun pretending that she's a super hero. Her super hero name is, "Super." And today she enjoyed climbing to the top of the playground and announcing, "I am a super hero!" She would then seek out people in need of her help by asking, "Is anyone in trouble?" She seemed a bit disappointed when no one acted desperate for her help.

Lisa

The glamour that is - Stockton

The weather's been cold, so I had plans to take the girls back to the Children's Museum in Stockton. The first time we went there, they both had a lot of fun.

One Monday, a few weeks ago, I had planned to bring the girls to the museum, but after checking the web page I saw that they were closed on Mondays. The next time we were going to go was January 2nd, but though that was a Friday the museum was closed for the holidays. Today, there was nothing keeping us from going to the Stockton Children's Museum.

The museum was nearly empty, and we had a lot of fun. Amelia was sliding down a tube slide that Diana wouldn't enter. Eventually, Amelia told her younger sister that the slide would be fun and not to worry. She went on to reassure her sister by saying that the dark slide was "not so deep in monsters."

Amelia, Diana and I also had fun in the museum's art center. We glued small colored pieces of paper and yarn, adding a few sparkly bits of glitter near the end. We sat all of our papers on the designated shelves to dry. Sadly, the art room was closed while we were exploring the museum. I guess our artwork will now be part of the permanent display.

It was very difficult to get the girls to leave. Luckily, the museum closed at four.

Before leaving the house I charted a path from the Children's Museum to a couple of nearby historical markers. I was grateful to be leaving the museum at four, even though that wouldn't give us quite enough time to travel to Historical Markers outside of Tracy. (I decided it was best if we eat at home because of my checkbook and my diet.)

Downtown Stockton, if you haven't seen it, is very nice. It seems very obvious that the city is working extremely hard to revive its downtown region. The rest of the town, however, still doesn't look so hot. I hate to say it, but maybe this tagged marker is simply a reflection of its surroundings.

Honestly I can't say which is worse - the stolen landmark off Highway 205, or the graffiti on Historical Landmark #513. Amelia immediately noticed that someone had painted on this landmark and wondered where the paint had gone. I wondered if the people who spoiled this marker read the plaque before messing it up. The story is actually quite interesting, and I'm learning a lot about California during this quest.

Lisa

Caving

The weather has been cold and damp, and I've been desperate to find ways to get the girls outdoors without freezing them down to their bones. I had been thinking of searching for a new (to us, at least) historical marker when Amelia made an odd comment. I don't remember what the context was, but I heard Amelia say, "There are no real caves."

Of course there are real caves. And one fact about caves that you may or may not know is that they almost always maintain a constant interior temperature. When visiting the underground gardens in Fresno the guide pointed out how much cooler the underground home was than the surface during the blistering hot summer. I reasoned that the interior of a cave, though cool, would have to be warmer than the weather outside, and I started investigating California caves online.


My first search brought me to The California Cavern which, coincidentally, is a California Historical Landmark.

Stopping at Angel's Camp for lunch I actually felt warm when I got out of my car. The weather in the sunshine was (according to the big red car) 50 degrees. I pulled off my sweatshirt for a while and patted myself on the back for deciding to come up to the mountains for some warmth.

The weather was only a touch cooler at Cave City. A dozen signs led the way to The California Cavern.

Walking away from the counter at the gift shop (where we purchased our tour tickets), Mike reminded me to ask where the actual Historical Landmark plaque could be found. The man behind the counter told us that he didn't have an actual plaque. He went on to make a comment about the rowdy individuals that would accompany the placement of an actual marker by the California Historical Society. I wasn't sure if he meant that the society members were ruffians or that wild bunches like mine would likely show up when the plaque was placed.

Either way, the story was a bit funny to me. I suspect that those who specialize in or are interested in California's history aren't too wild and crazy. Of course, I'm excluding myself because I also consider myself a linguist, and we all know how zany and out of control linguists are.

At 1430 we walked down a path that led to the cave entrance. Here, everyone over four foot tall had to don a skullcap to protect against likely bumps. The tour guide, who was really upbeat, gave us a run-down of all the caving rules. The most important rule was that we not touch the cave walls and formations (exceptions were pointed out along the length of the cave). If I hadn't paid attention, or had missed this rule somehow, I would have been okay because Amelia felt she needed to verbalize this rule over and over and we travelled through the cavern.

She's a good rule-follower, just like mom.

The cavern was very beautiful inside and had an interesting history. The reason this particular cave was designated a landmark was because early California gold miners who visited the cave were requested to graffiti their names on the cave walls. There was a room where local church groups would gather to sing once a week (because of the great acoustics), and a great column where a stalactite and stalagmite met was the site of several weddings.

Though Diana became over-tired and a little feisty toward the end of our tour, the girls were very good most of the time we were underground. Still, I was glad that Mike had decided to come with me. He wasn't sure I would be able to handle both of the girls alone, in a cave, and he might have been right. For one thing, some of the passageways were damp and slippery. I'm sure I couldn't have held on to both of the girls hands in many of the narrow tunnels.

As usual, Amelia had some brilliant things to say that made those around her smile. The tour guide loved to hear her exclaim, "How beautiful" when we would enter a particularly lovely "room." I'm sure she also got a kick out of Amelia's requests at the end of the tour that we go right back and do it again. Though the tour was an hour and a half long, Amelia was determined that we seek out one of the other nearby caverns and take another tour that very afternoon.

Amelia was also extremely impressed with the guide's demonstration of how miners would use tin cans and candles as make-shift flashlights while traveling through the cave. But Amelia's best line came after we had spent a few moments in complete darkness. Shortly after the lights came back on, Amelia inhaled quickly and said, "I can't believe my eyes!"

Walking back to the car we talked about our favorite parts of the cavern tour. Amelia loved using her imagination to find shapes in the rocks. She compared it to another game where we look for different shapes in the clouds. Diana said she liked finding animals in the rock formations the best, too.

Because I am collecting photographs of California Historical Markers, I noticed that there were two more markers on the way out to the cave. Because we were hoping our grouchy toddler would sleep a little before the tour, we didn't dare stop on our way to Cave City. However, on the way back, both girls fell asleep so quickly that I didn't have the heart (or the nerve) to wake either of them up for a photograph by a rock with a plaque.

One marker wasn't obvious to me until we had driven way past it a second time. Another is the one you see here: California Historical Marker #258 - Forth Crossing.

Mike suggested that I try to get a photograph of myself with this marker. After taking at least a half dozen photographs I did manage to get both myself and the plaque in the same shot. Oh, and I also managed to keep the toppled basketball backboard and hoop that had fallen a couple of feet away out of the photograph. I thought that might diminish from the historical significance, somehow.

Lisa

P.S. If you need ideas for my birthday, I just found this online.

Cooking with Amelia (and mommy)

Several weeks ago, maybe months ago, Amelia was watching one of her favorite cartoon shows and learned that you make your own pizza and top it with almost anything you like. Over the past several days Amelia has been asking her mom if we could make pizza at home. She didn't understand that pizza wouldn't simply appear for her on demand, and thought I could hand her some dough immediately.

I had never made pizza from scratch, but I knew it involved adding yeast to flour. In my mind, anything that involves yeast also involves a great commitment of time, so I have been doing my best to postpone Amelia's pizza project.

When Amelia asked to make pizza again today, I had run out of excuses. The weather has been terribly cold and I knew we weren't going anywhere, so I told Amelia we could make pizza. But again, Amelia wanted the dough right at that very moment. She got grouchy when I told her we would need to go to the store for mozzarella and mushrooms.

Back from the store, we dove right into our project. I asked Amelia whether she wanted to make thin crust pizza or pan pizza. She told me that she wanted to make round pizza. That sounded reasonable to me.

Amelia helped pour ingredients into the mixing bowl and even helped roll out the dough. And making dough for a pizza crust is nothing like making dinner rolls. In fact, I was happily surprised when I found out that pizza crust doesn't have to rise at all, it only has to rest a few minutes.

The dough made two medium-sized pizzas. Amelia topped her pizza with marinara sauce, cheese, mushrooms, yellow bell peppers, broccoli and olives. (We sampled some of the ingredients to make sure they were good.) Amelia was disappointed that daddy had eaten the last of our carrots, but I wasn't sure I wanted carrots on my pizza. (I also snuck some red onion on my half of the pie.)

Daddy made a different pizza with the girls adding some cheddar cheese and salami. We cooked the pizzas one at a time, and I thought they were both surprisingly good. Mike thought the pizzas would be better if the crust were thinner, but since we didn't have a pizza pan we could only roll the dough out until it barely fit on our cookie sheets.

I ate two pieces of pizza, myself. I'm not sure if this was all right in terms of my new diet, but I didn't want to miss out on our very first home-made pizza pie.

Lisa

P.S. I hope to take the girls out on an adventure tomorrow, despite the cold weather. We'll see what happens...