Dia con mi hermana

The blog is about to go on another extended hiatus, I am venturing to points east for a couple shows. Not like I have been exactly inspired of late anyway. I am packing for a few days, then gone with the wind. Wish me good luck, need to make enough gelt to hopefully take off for Spain in September. We got turned on to a pair of tickets to Europe, business class, practically free. But I will need a little cushion so that I can go away and not fret too much.

My sister Barb has been in town for the last couple days and it has been a real pleasure to hang out with her. She lives in Florida and her husband has a best ball golf tourney out here with his nephew. I am doing a lot of touristy things that I never do. The first thing she wanted to do was see the Mission De Alcala, or what she always thought was the Mission, which was in fact the Presidio. I took a wrong turn to the Mission and ended up in a shall we say, low income neighborhood in Linda Vista, trapped by a wayward GPS. I am happy to say that we were not eaten and eventually managed to find our way out.

We made our way back to Friars and visited the pretty complex, a place I hadn't visited in at least fifty years. Beautiful california landscaping of pepper trees, aloes and bougainvilleas.

This was the first alta California mission established by the Spaniards and smaller than many of the others. Very lovely in its quiet tranquility.

We visited the museum and toured the grounds on this most perfect of California days, breezy and temperate while the rest of the nation seemingly bakes in the suffocating heat. Oh well, we get all the earthquakes.

After our visit, we drove to La Mesa to try to find the wonderful old mediterranean revival ranch we lived in as kids on Mt. Helix. Good thing Barbara was there, the home on Fuerte Drive was unrecognizable. The barn was gone, the corrals, reservoir, the berry patch, avocados, the giant pines, now there were about seven homes in its place. See what happens when you take off for 50 years? Everything goes to hell.

We stopped at D.Z. Akins, the only decent deli in the county and bought rugelach and the sprinkly cookies that we ate as kids at Blumers Delicatessen on 54th and El Cajon blvd. Had to have sufficient sustenance on hand for the long day ahead.

We drove back to the Presidio, the site of the explorer's first garrison and outpost in this part of the new world, situated on a knoll above the San Diego River valley. 

The presidio is pretty neglected these days, paint peeling and mostly closed up but still stands as a beautiful and stately beacon of impeccable early hispano american design. 

Being a San Diego native, this stuff sort of gets in your blood. From the missions to Irving Gill, Goodhew and Requa, there is no other place quite like it on earth. We left the Presidio and traveled through the beautiful streets of Mission Hills and stopped off at one of my favorite restaurants, Cucina Urbana, for lunch. 

We shared burrata, bread and tapenade and split the short ribs pappardelle entree as well. Rustic and delicious, the place never disappoints. We finished the meal with zeppoli, little doughnuts on poached peaches that were stuffed with lemon curd. So heavenly, we could have died right there. I remember eating them at the feast of San Gennaro in Manhattan as a kid, but they were never this good.

Afterwards, we decided to walk off our meal in Balboa Park, the most beautiful park in the nation. The girls loved walking around the spacious rose gardens. The youth symphony was practicing, things bopping all over the place. A parrot rescue was showcasing their wards on the square. Leslie and I played with the birds. 

We are lucky and blessed to live in such a beautiful place, with such perfect weather. There is an old indian saying that where a man first puts his moccasins will be his home forever and this is definitely mine.

Sandy's nephew lives in a place called Del Mar Mesa, which is sort of a funny name, not being close to Del Mar. A new trend by the developers, never mind the actual geographic position, name them after the closest ritzy town. It is a lovely enclave off of the 56 and Carmel Country road, but no closer to Carmel Valley than it is to Del Mar. But the realtors try to soak off some of the cachet and it helps the marketing people. The same thing is occurring in Escondido, where the Crosby of Rancho Santa Fe now lies right on its borders, quite a furr piece from the Rancho Santa Fe I knew in my youth.

We reconnoitered at the fish market for dinner and finally made our way home, utterly exhausted.

Barbara drove up yesterday and we had lunch at Rosa's with R&D and the accent mark. Keeping with the early california theme, my sister and I then drove through Pala and Pauma Valley, miles upon miles of orange groves and largely unsullied splendor. We drove down to Wilderness Gardens to look at the wild camelia bushes that were planted in the 1920's but decided not to walk around because it was so dry and the flower timing was off.

We drove up Palomar Mountain instead, rolling the windows down and luxuriating in the cool air and the fresh smell of oaks and conifers. The pines up there have really taken a severe beating from fire and the bark beetle.

We drove over to the Observatory, the first time for both of us and looked at the famous Hale telescope, now administered by Cal Tech. This building is an architectural marvel in itself. 

Afterwards we drove down to Doane Pond and a camp that we briefly attended as kids. We saw wild turkeys and this beautiful hawk in the forest. It was about this point when I realized that her rent a car was parked on the street in front of my shop, the street that they was closing down for the Hot Summer Nights celebration. We jammed home at breakneck speed and just beat the tow truck. All in all, a great trip and weekend with a favorite sister. Wish we saw each other more often.