A very American holiday

January 4, 2012

I’m driving through California's grand Central Valley right now with Leslie, Mike and Miss Mocha the cat (my parents and sister left yesterday for Mexico). It’s a five hour drive from Lake Almanor to Cupertino and I’m witnessing the seasonal migration that takes place twice a year. In the past few hours we have gotten some breathtaking views from the car, with the blue oaks silhouetting on the purple sunset canvas. We have crossed forests, foothills, cattle grazing pastureland, vineyards, and agricultural fields. Now we are surrounded by city lights, reaching our destination.

Leslie has always been a family friend, and the story goes back thirty years when she and my dad met at the annual American Geophysical Union (AGU) conference in San Francisco. She was representing Elsevier the publishing company, he was attending the conference. Long story short, they became very good friends and since then they always see each other when my dad goes to SF, we have been to the city and to Almanor several times, and Leslie has been to Mexico also many times. She is a traveler and has been all over the world. The upcoming trip is to Oaxaca, where she will be volunteering for three months at the Museo Textil de Oaxaca.

We had a fantastic couple weeks up at the lake. The house is like a chalet in a country club in a peninsula, with a stunning view of the lake and the mountains. Clouds draped around the nearby hills and the water shimmered with the sunny breeze. The nearest town is the town of Chester, about 20 minutes away. Chester is a collection of random settlements with a highway backbone where only pickups drive through. Here is a quote I loved from Nicki: " I'm imagining people churning butter, chopping their own firewood, little children running barefoot in the meadows and an old man playing a fiddle in front of the fireplace while the family huddles around on the rug."

Indian Valley

It was a relaxing time where we did some typical American activities: got artistic with some crafts, baked cookies and cakes, ate delicious food (italo-american style – the kitchen was taken over by my mom and by Leslie), and shopped ‘til we dropped. That last one was mostly my mom. She pretty much had to go into every thrift store or antique shop she saw, and she never left empty handed. One day we went to Quincy, a tiny town with a worryingly high thrift store density. My theory is that people just don’t buy that much new stuff and the old stuff is recycled from thrift store to thrift store. Personally, I don’t enjoy going through disorganized bins and boxes of old, used stuff, but there must be some hidden charm I am oblivious to. Even if I waited in a corner without touching anything, I felt dusty by the time we left.

We celebrated New Year at the bowling alley, with blasting music, neon lights and drunk teenagers. Super fun. We made it a rule to do a dance move before throwing, which made us the greatest team playing there that night. My sister was even harrassed by an old man that liked her Michael Jackson impersonation. The surprise for the night was the bowling talent that runs in the family. Somehow, my dad won both games with a huge advantage.  My sister and I were not entirely sure how, as he stumbled his way to the beginning of the alley and almost tripped before throwing the ball.

Cookies Caro and I made

We documented the process of going to get George the Christmas tree. Here’s the video for your enjoyment.

We visited an artist's studio. Sally Yost makes amazing paintings, and these are her sketchbooks.