Partners in Adventure

For the past few weeks, I've been scanning in all our family photos so that we can send the bulky albums back to storage. With the going price to rent a U-Haul trailer in our area of the world at $420, we're sending back or giving away everything but the "bare necessities, the simple bare necessities of life!" (To quote Baloo from the animated version of The Jungle Book.) While scanning in the photos, I've had time to reflect upon all the stories that we've accumulated since being together, and the ways that our individual stories intertwined to bring us to the point we are today. Through this project I have realized that we have many stories that no one else knows but the two of us, not because they are secret (though some are, of course), but because they are the stories between the ones that you repeat to friends and family. How do you begin to relate all the minor details that make a story special, that make it memorable? How many times have you heard someone say, "You just should have been there" or "This picture doesn't do it justice" or "I just can't explain how wonderful it was!"? We've all been in that situation when words, no matter how grand, simply cannot describe an experience. The best part of having a partner in adventure, however, is that they have been there, and they do know what you are talking about.

Over time, Ted and I have developed our own encyclopedia of memories and experiences, some trivial and some amazing. I can always say, "Remember when . . . " and he does, in perfect detail. We've lived the same stories, though we tell them and process them in different ways. We live one experience, but gather two perspectives. Traveling the country with Ted has been an experience I have treasured. We are both observers, we treasure the silent times, we agree on destinations, we seek the less traveled trails, we think deeply about the world around us, and we always remember to have fun. He is my perfect partner!

Scanning our photos and arranging our scrapbook has reminded me of the importance of trying to tell our story before we both get too old to remember the details. Trying to write our stories, however, has shown me the futility of conveying anything but the diffused essence of the memory. One story is related to countless others and requires a shared experience to fully understand all the nuances of the tale. Great authors try to create a sense of shared experience with the reader, but it is an effort that takes years and countless drafts. I can only imagine telling all of our stories in such minute detail! But, tis better to convey a whisper of the past, and let the mystery take hold of someone new, than to let all of our stories be whisked away into the dream fever of time. I am thankful that I have a venue to write about our adventures, and a partner who lives these adventures with me.
By: Rebecca
Photo By: Cruise ship passenger, Alaskan cruise, May of 2002

I Left My Heart in San Francisco

Sometimes it feels that we have lived in San Francisco for years - until someone from home says, "My stars! California? How'd you end up plum over there?"

I'm not exaggerating. When I called to change my address with the school system I worked for last year, I was the talk of the office for the afternoon! And I was reminded of just how lucky I am to be living this lifestyle. The past week has been so busy that I've barely had time to write, but I wanted to post a quick update to let everyone know our plans.

Ted interviewed with a hospital in Olympia, Washington, and was offered a position there, which we accepted. Olympia is an hour and a half north of Portland, an hour south of Seattle, and an hour and a half west of Mt. Rainier, so we will be near two big cities and plenty of recreational opportunities! Portland hails itself as the city of beer, books, and bikes, Seattle is known as the rock and coffee capitol of the US, and at 14, 110 feet, Mt. Rainier is the precursor for Americans who want to climb Everest, so we should have plenty to keep us busy! Ted will finally be near some fly fishing streams again, and I will have the opportunity to learn to sail after spring thaw, one of the many items on my "Things To Do Before I Die" list. We move at the end of February, and Ted starts his new position on February 27.

What will we do with our last month here, you might ask? Here is a rundown of some of our plans for the next month. We're planning to go to Sonoma with our friends from Chicago this weekend, hike in Ano Nuevo State Reserve to see the Elephant seals up close and personal, backpack for three days in Point Reyes National Seashore, see Aerosmith and Lenny Kravitz in concert (yes, Aerosmith is still touring), and go snowshoeing in Lake Tahoe. My dad is coming to visit for a week, and we're going to drag him to all our favorite sites along with some ones we haven't yet seen, like the particle accelerator near Stanford, the satellite dish on Woodland road, and the NASA facility at Moffett field. Don't worry, Dad, we'll actually let you relax a few days too!

We're finding it is harder to leave our home here than we thought it would be when we first began this journey. Clam chowder at Fisherman's Wharf, sunsets over the rocks at Rodeo Beach, light illuminating the Golden Gate Bridge, sea lions in Santa Cruz, rocky cliffs along Hwy 1, bustling streets, and new friends are just a few things we will miss when we leave. We have grown up a little here, have learned to be more self-confident, learned to enjoy life to the fullest, and learned that adventure can happen anywhere, anytime. Though we have only lived here six months, they have been a full and beautiful six months, and they have tied us to this place in a way we never expected. So, I leave a part of my heart in San Francisco, though I look forward to our new adventures in Olympia. Wish us luck!
By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted

Reasons for Hope

"Blow out the candles on the count of three and make a wish! One! Two! Three!"







Three candles go out nearly simulateneously as Dede, Gilbert, and Rebecca all blow out their birthday candles at their surprise party in San Francisco. Dede and Gilbert are both married to nurses who work on Ted's floor of the hopital, and all the spouses decided to hold a surprise party for the three January birthdays. Gilbert turned 29, Rebecca turned 24, and Dede would never say, but she probably turned 25 or 26. An informal dinner of meatballs, chicken marsala, spaghetti, salad, and fried calamari turned into an evening of music and dancing as more and more guests arrived. By nine in the evening, fifteen people were squeezed into a two bedroom apartment, but fresh air was readily available on the large patio overlooking Fillmore Street. Seeing my name on a birthday cake while surrounded with new friends was the last thing I expected for my birthday when we started traveling! It seems that the surprises and adventures are never ending, and I never know what to expect around the next corner anymore, which I love! The thoughtfulness, kindness, and generosity of the people we have met here has helped to restore my faith in others, and I can only expect that we will encounter similar friendliness and kindness in Seattle.

I happened upon a television show tonight that also reminded me of the kindness and compassion of which all of us are capable: Extreme Makeover - Home Edition. (http://abc.go.com/primetime/xtremehome/) In the particular episode I watched, the Kirkwood family had been forced from their home due to toxic mold that had developed from an undetected leak in the basement. All seven members of the family were living in a single hotel room at the time of the taping. The eleven year old had continuously called the show asking that they help her family. Her persistence and hope in the show eventually won over the producers, and they decided to rebuild the Kirkwood home. While the family was away, the design team and 3,800 volunteer members of the community tore down the mold infested house and built the family a new house in seven days! Rain, mudslides, and mold slowed the progress of the team, but the spirit of the workers was truly inspiring! Everyone building the home was there because they believed in helping a family in need. Needless to say, the house was incredibly beautiful, and the family was deeply touched by the show of support from their community. The show ended with an impromptu group rendintion of "This Little Light of Mine." I was moved to tears by the girl's hope, and the community's desire to help make her hope a reality.

I also read a blog last night that detailed one woman's fight with a rare type of cancer. Her story was at turns inspiring, sad, and frustrating. The most depressing aspect of the site was the fact that she lost her job, and thereby her insurance, due to her progressing cancer. Not only did she have to battle cancer, but she also had to face mounting medical expenses and other bills. As a result of the blog site, however, she was able to generate enough support, both financial and spiritual, to keep the creditors at bay until she died last April. Though the story brought about a host of reactions in me, from anger at the injustice of the American insurance system, to extreme empathy for her husband and children, the overwhelming feeling was one of hope. Other people sensed the injustice of the situation and went out of their way to help, which is probably why she named her blog "Karma Works."

When I was watching The Constant Gardener the other night, I was struck by a scene in which the main character is driving his wife home from the hospital when they happen to pass another family walking home from the hospital. The wife asks the husband to give the other family a ride and he replies, "We can't give everyone a ride. We can't help everyone." She says, "No, but we have the power to help them." Though the husband drives on, I realized that the world would change more quickly if we all helped the people we have the power to help. We may not be able to help everyone or change government policies, but we can change our corner of the world by proving to others that they do not hope in vain - just as the community of Seattle showed the Kirkwood family that their daughter did not hope in vain, and the internet community showed one cancer sufferer that she she was not alone in the fight, and on a smaller scale, the nurses at Ted's hospital showed me that generosity of spirit does exist. We can all give someone a reason for hope.

By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted

Yosemite (part 3)

Ted on top of Buena Vista Pass.









Rebecca sitting in a dry riverbed in Yosemite.

Photos By: Ted and Rebecca

Yosemite (Part 2)

Fall colors in Yosemite Valley.















The lake where we stopped for breakfast.

Photos By: Ted

Places We've Been - Yosemite

"I'm freezing!"
"Just curl up in your sleeping bag and concentrate on being warm."
"Do you feel sick to your stomach?"
"Yeah, do you?"
"I don't think we should have eaten those instant Thai noodles."
"Me either."

We were silent then as we concentrated on being warm, a difficult task as we were camping on the sheer granite face of Buena Vista Pass in temperatures well below zero in sleeping bags that were designed for twenty degree weather. My teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, and I felt the achy familiarity of a fever coming on. I thought perhaps we had filtered bad water, though the water filter we bought promised to make even sewage safe to drink. At the top of Buena Vista Pass, nearly 10,000 feet above the valley floor, we were especially vulnerable to lower than average temperature, surprise snow storms, or lightning strikes from passing storm fronts. Though it was not the ideal place to camp, the sun was already setting, a storm was brewing, and we had already hiked over 13 miles and climbed 2,500 feet since we had broken camp that morning. Our bodies literally would not go another step. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head, hoping that my breath would provide some warmth, and I wondered for a moment if we would make it through the frigid night.

If we were suffering from the effects of bad water, we would still have to hike more than twenty miles in either direction before we could reach help. (We found out later that we were suffering from a mild case of altitude sickness) Our total isolation suddenly seemed frightening rather than peaceful, and I wondered what would happen if one of us broke an ankle or became seriously ill. We had not seen another person, or signs that people had even recently been camping there in the two days we had been on the trail. I shut my eyes and tried to force the negative images from my mind. That night, I dreamed a mountain lion was chasing me along Buena Vista Pass, when I suddenly noticed a staircase leading down the mountain. I ran towards the staircase and was transported to a roller skating rink filled with all my friends and family, and everyone was standing in line to buy me a hotdog. It was heaven!

Streams of golden sunlight awoke us from our fitful sleep, and we emerged from the tent to find that it was covered in a layer of ice! Even inside wool gloves, our hands felt numb and frozen. As we were still nauseous, we opted to wait a while for breakfast, and we set about laboriously packing up camp, a task that was made more difficult by the stiffness of our fingers.
Despite the freezing temperatures, a feeling of optimism overtook us. The storm had passed, the sun was shining, the air was crisp and clear, and we lived through the night! Early morning sunlight reflected off the sheer granite wall behind Buena Vista Lake, creating a golden crown for the pass's peak. When we filtered water from the clear alpine lake, we marveled at the clarity of the water, and the perfect reflection of the mountain on its mirrorlike surface. We started hiking as soon as possible in order to generate warmth, and didn't stop until we reached a sunny spot near a lake three miles away. By the time we reached the lake, it was already nine and the sun had begun to melt the icy layer leftover from the night before. We sat on a rock overlooking another prisine lake and began to cook a modest breakfast of oatmeal and tea. It was hard to believe that we were the only ones in this vast stretch of wilderness to observe the fall colors and changing beauty of the scene before us! The forest was literally alive with color - the grass was the color of burnt umber, the foliage a mixture of cranberry, gold, and fire red. Walking the twisting narrow path through the fall wilderness was like walking into an enchanted forest: beautiful, mysterious, magical, and alive. The 98% of visitors who only see Yosemite's main valley have no idea what they are missing! As we wandered along in silence, I was again thankful that we have this wilderness to enjoy and that we are healthy and able enough to hike it!

After three days and thirty-five miles, we finally reached the edge of the wilderness and began the trek back to Yosemite valley and then to civilization. As much as I craved a shower and solid food, I was loathe to leave the solitude and simple beauty of the forest, the surprise of bear prints or deer tracks, the straightforward challenge of climbing a towering ridge, the twisting trail, the cool water of the alpine lakes, the solidarity which comes from being alone together with no outside distractions. I hoped I could incorporate the wonder and uncluttered nature of the solitude into the distracting day to day of civilization. But, in the words of Robert Frost:
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep/but I have promises to keep/ and miles to go before I sleep."

By: Rebecca
Photos By: Ted (Taken in October 2005 at Yosemite)

What a Weekend!

As soon as Ted got off work Saturday morning, we began packing for our weekend trip to Petaluma, a small town twenty minutes east of Sonoma and the famous wine country. We were a little concerned that the bed and breakfast Ted booked may be closed due to the recent flooding in Napa, but we decided to check it out anyway.




On our way to Petaluma, Ted took what I thought to be a wrong turn in San Francisco, but the twinkle in his eye convinced me he knew exactly where he was going. As soon as I saw the Ashbury street sign, I did too. Ted planned for us to spend the morning in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, once famous as a hippie enclave, but now known for its eclectic boutiques and vintage shopping. Ted led me to a cafe called All You Knead, and we sat at a booth in the back corner where we could observe the passerby on the street as well as the other customers. I've wanted to visit the Haight-Ashbury district since I can remember, and there I was eating breakfast at a cafe in the heart of it all! I couldn't believe it!

As we drank coffee strong enough to wake the dead, and ate an eclectic breakfast featuring spinach, tomatoes, and feta cheese, we watched as more and more people crowded into this Haight hotspot. Six members of a gothic band who all had British accents sat to the left of us, two girls in their twenties wearing classic vintage garb sat in front of us, and an obvious tourist couple sat across the way. After years of trying to approximate the experience by shopping at vintage stores in midtown Memphis, and frequenting the hippie hangouts in Asheville, I had finally arrived at the real deal! After breakfast, Ted took me vintage store shopping, where he found an old tweed coat, several classic button-up shirts, and a fringed leather jacket. I found countless peasant tops, silk Kimono style robes, and beautifully patterned dresses. We promised to return to buy a few of the treasures, and headed on to Petaluma.

From the moment that we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge until we reached our bed and breakfast in Petaluma, we counted seven rainbows! We saw the beginning and end of two rainbows, which is a rare sight in and of itself. One rainbow began in the water, framed a section of woods, and ended in a nearby field. The second complete rainbow stretched across a verdant hillside, highlighting several cows grazing at the top of the hill. We felt as though we were in a painting! Seeing seven rainbows on the seventh day of the new year has to be a good sign!
Ted booked a room at the Metro Cafe and Hotel, an intimate bed and breakfast founded by a man who was married to a French wife. French themed rooms, books written in French, and a romantic cafe made us feel as though we were in Paris rather than Petaluma! We quickly unpacked and drove the twenty miles to Sonoma, the southern tip of wine country. Miles of lush fields undulating under a canopy of pink clouds made the scene as picturesque as all the postcards we had seen of the valley. With all the famous wineries in Sonoma and Napa, it was difficult to pick just a few, but we were able to narrow our selection to five. The first two on our list for the evening were Buena Vista vineyards and Ravenswood vineyards.

Buena Vista is the oldest winery in Sonoma, and was founded by a count from Europe. His goal was to make wines that were as good as the French wines he knew and loved. After several failed attempts in other counties, he settled in Carneros valley in Sonoma and began to produce some of the first quality wine in America. According to the Buena Vista vintner, he succeeded in surpassing the quality of French wines, though I'm sure that's open to interpretation! Our favorite wine from this stop was the syrah, a medium bodied red wine with a sweet, yet bold flavor. After the tasting, we walked some of the trails along the property and marveled at the beauty surrounding the vineyard.

At Ravenswood winery, we learned a great deal about wine, although we did not like any of the varieties we tried. After this tasting, we drove back to Petaluma, one of the few towns near San Francisco to survive the 1906 earthquake virtually intact. Because many of its buildings date back to 1857, and the town has maintained its Main Street appeal, it is a favorite set for movie producers looking for a small slice of Americana. American Graffiti, Phenomenon, Peggy Sue Got Married, and Basic Instinct were all filmed in Petaluma. McNear's, a typical pub style restaurant housed in an original saloon, still features a hitching post outside the front doors. In an attempt to sample the local culture, we decided to dine on burgers and fish n' chips at McNear's.

The next morning, we awoke in our sinfully comfortable down bed, and began to plan the day. Ted picked an orange from the tree outside our room, and we talked over which vineyards to visit while seated at our own bistro table. Breakfast was at Della Fraitorria, the oldest bread making company in northern California. I ate a cinnamon role made from buttery croissant dough that literally melted in my mouth, while Ted feasted on a marscapone and jam filled croissant. We decided to visit Viansaa Vineyards, Cline Vineyards, and Chateau St. Jean, with a break for lunch in between. Breathtaking views, delicious wines, and excellent conversation filled the day, and it was over seemingly before it had begun. Our favorite vineyard was Viansa, as it was more novice friendly than some of the others. Viansa also offered a complete line of sauces and condiments that were available for tasting as well. Their Cento por Cento, a buttery white wine with complex pear flavors, was our favorite white wine of all time, and definitely of the trip.

As we crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge to go home, Ted took another surprise turn in San Francisco. He took me to Ghiradelli Square for a decadent ice cream sundae instead of the traditional birthday cake. He even sang me "Happy Birthday" in the middle of the restaurant! Watching Under the Tuscan Sun, at Ted's request, rounded out the weekend. The weekend was perfect in every detail, making this my best birthday yet!

By: Rebecca
Photos: Ted (The photos are of Pietra Santa vineyards, which we visited in November. Their website is: www.pietrasantawinery.com We recommend their dolcetto.)

Independence

January 06 marked a new and wiser age for me, as I turned the ripe age of 24. Ted had to work on my birthday, so I decided to celebrate myself by venturing into San Francisco's Union Square for lunch and shopping. Other than Memphis, I have never been to a large city by myself. I've always been blessed with the company of friends or family, but I decided I would not be deterred by my solitary state. After watching Carrie take on New York in an episode of Sex and the City, I decided I too was capable of exploring a city on my own. I took the train into San Francisco, and prepared myself for a day of discovery.

Single female rule #10 - always bring something to read while riding public transportation.
I made the fatal mistake of not bringing something to read on the train, which seems to be a universal signal to creepy men everywhere that I, a solitary female, was in desperate need of male company and assistance. While I was gazing out the window, a white man in his late forties, early fifties, sat down next to me, map in hand. He asked me to point out the Civic Center on his creased map of San Francisco, which I did, and I informed him as to which stop was his. He took my help as a sign that I would like to continue the conversation, so he began debating the merits of San Francisco versus the cities he knew in South Africa, his home nation. Apparently he thought Market Street meant that an actual market was held on that street, as he kept asking me how good the prices were at the market there. He was disappointed to find that he would not be able to witness an American market, and I thought perhaps I should direct him to the shopping mecca of Union Square. But as that was my destination, and the man seemed to like me a little too much, I decided to let him discover Nordstom's and Macy's on his own. I breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped off the train, and mentally ran through a list of stores that I wanted to visit.

I shopped at the plethora of stores in Union Square until I couldn't walk anymore in my heels, and sat to watch the men playing chess near the square. Men of all cultures and ages gather there daily to challenge themselves to a game. A Hispanic man wearing a tight white tanktop and a skull cap moved his pawn against an ancient looking Chinese man sporting a long white mustache. Next to them, a black man in jeans and a tee-shirt moved his knight to capture the pawn of his Jewish opponent. I was enjoying the games when a homeless man, who was also watching the games, told me to get a TV and get lost. I took one look at his toothless grimace, and opted to leave the chess game behind and head to lunch.

I stopped to eat at a small cafe in the San Francisco shopping center, and was seated near two women in their early twenties who were discussing their careers. One was explaining that she currently worked for a non-profit that she cared deeply about, but she was horrified at the disorganization and lack of leadership at the company. She thought the goal of the company was to help people, but her effectiveness was stymied by all the red tape and sloppy record keeping of the company. The other girl was upset that the best job she could get as a recent college graduate was as a receptionist. Her friend consoled her that she would work her way up in the company, but she felt unhappy and ineffective in her job. Hearing their conversation, and recalling the similar conversations I've had with most people my age, I've come to the conclusion that the vast majority of people in their twenties desperately want to help others and make a difference. However, most of us end up in jobs that prevent us from working to our full potential. After a few years, the people who were once hungry to help others become frustrated and apathetic. It seems that there should be something we could do to optimize the effectiveness of an energetic and socially conscious workforce. Hearing the conversation of these two girls made me realize that the problems my friends and I faced in Tennessee are also shared by the workforce of one of the most liberal and socially conscious cities on the west coast, a fact I found both comforting and disconcerting.

As I rode the train back home, I realized how much I have grown up in the last few years. I now feel comfortable enough with myself to take myself shopping, to explore a city on my own, and to face uncomfortable or unusual situations head on, without fear. I feel more self-confident, more open to the world, more prepared to be a part of it, and more comfortable with who I am than I ever have before. My growing independence and confidence will serve me well when we go to explore Seattle in March! Hello 24!
By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted

New Year's Resolution

Five days into the New Year, and five days past the beginning of our New Year's resolutions. Ever an optimist, I set my goals for the year as high as ever, despite the fact I typically go back to life as usual after only a week. This year, though, I know things will be different - I set goals I actually want to accomplish rather than goals I thought I should set.

Resolution One - Find one thing to truly savor in each day. (I told you they were fun!)
Have I kept this one so far? That's a definite yes! Here's a run down of the things I've found to enjoy so far this year:
January 01 - I ate a lingonberry crepe at IHOP. For those of you who have never before had the pleasure of eating lingonberries, they are small, tart red berries with a deliciously sweet aftertaste, similar to cranberries.
January 02 - I took an early morning walk through the local neighborhoods, and enjoyed the cool, but cloudless morning, especially after surviving three days of heavy rains. Every leaf seemed crisper, every flower brighter and clearer than normal. It was just one of those perfect days!
January 03 - Today I stopped to look at all the flowers that are blooming as a result of the recent rains. It feels like spring here! Also, I read a great book, The God Gene, while drinking hot tea flavored with honey.
January 04 - Ok, I indulged quite a bit today, but I loved every minute of it! I washed down an old fashioned cake doughnut and a Bavarian cream filled eclair with a cafe au lait from a local doughnut shop I just discovered. It has been almost seven months since I last ate a doughnut, and every creamy, sugary bite was like a little piece of heaven! That evening I had the house to myself, and treated myself to a pint of Haagen Dazs mint chocolate chip ice cream while watching two episodes of Sex and the City. Sinful, but deliciously wonderful!

I never realized how much joy each day could hold until I made the conscious decision to live mindfully and pay attention to even the trivial parts of each day. So far I have realized the things I thought were trivial, are in fact momentous and beautiful. The small things have now become the highlight of my day. Each day, the list of things I've enjoyed in the day is growing longer, not because I am doing more, but because I am seeing things more clearly. For example, today I went to the grocery store, which is a task I normally dread due to the long lines and tediousness of choosing which product to buy. Today, however, I walked out of the store with a smile on my face. At Piazza's, a local family-owned grocery, I can talk to a knowledgeable butcher and choose my cuts of meat, pick up a loaf of bread hot out of the oven, choose from a variety of organic foods, buy produce from family farms, spoon out the day's portion of spices, and choose from an array of fragrant flowers. Almost everyone I have met there is friendly, and people there are willing to pay a little more for quality and organic foods. I never know what I am going to discover when I go there to pick up the day's groceries, but I usually come home with one or two things that weren't on the original list. Today I brought home a pound of ground veal to put in the spaghetti, and some creamy Straus butter for the fresh baguette. The other day, I bought strawberries and a type of cheese I had never tried before. The day before that - blueberries and Kashi seven grain cereal. On the way out of the store, I chatted with the cashier about his new diet, and we talked about foods that are high in fiber. I carried my paper bag full of groceries to the car, ready to cook dinner, and smiling in the afternoon sun.
One of my other New Year's Resolutions is to live more mindfully. In other words, I want to think consciously about what I am eating, what I am wearing, and how I am behaving, rather than just going through the motions. One of the easiest ways to live more mindfully is to change eating habits and to think about where food comes from. About seven months ago when I was eating a breakfast of oatmeal, toast, and tea, I decided to think about where the particular food I was eating originated. After a lot of internet researching, I discovered that the Sarah Lee corporation, which produced my loaf of white bread, owns everything from Hanes to EarthGrains. I was absolutely amazed that a bread and food company could have so many varied interests! The particular loaf I was eating came from grain shipped from all over the world to a factory in Ohio. The bread was made and packaged there, before being shipped all around the country.

In our modern society, it is easy to forget where food comes from, and to whom we are indebted for our daily bread. It turns out that I was indebted to the Sarah Lee corporation, the factory workers in Ohio, the plastics manufacturers at an undisclosed plant, and the wheat farmers from around the world. I am also indebted to the manufacturers of John Deere and other brands of tractors for creating the machines which harvest the grain, and the truck drivers and companies who deliver the bread to the store. I never realized how much work went into a loaf of bread!
The tea I was drinking is another long and complicated story, which I will share in another post, but I will say that I am indebted to people from Britain to Indonesia and beyond for my glass of Earl Grey tea. From the simple exercise of being conscious of the food I am eating, it is easy to see how people are all connected, and equally clear that the choices I make in what I consume have an impact far outside the confines of my kitchen. Since moving to California, we have discovered small farms and the world of organic food. Unfortunately, we did not have as much choice over the products we consumed back home as we do out here. Fortunately, farms in California, and family farms across the country are pioneering the comeback of the small, organic farm. One of the products we have discovered since being out here is Straus milk. Their website is worth a look, as it explains their eco-friendly farming methods, which are truly innovative. I'll probably talk more about Straus milk in a future post as well. If you want to check out the website, it is: www.strausmilk.com
So far this New Year's resolution is opening my eyes to many new ways of looking at my life, and I hope that it will continue to do so. One of my other resolutions was to post on this blog site more frequently, so we'll see in a few weeks if that resolution is working out as well as this one! HaHa! I hope your resolutions are going as well for you as this particular one is for me. May this new year be one of happiness and peace, not just for us personally, but for the world as a whole. In this global age, it is increasingly possible for one person to make a difference through changing habits and perspectives. May this new year also be one of personal change that will have a lasting impact for the rest of us!
Well, I'm off for a walk in the Baylands, to fulfill resolution #3 - exercise three times a week. So far, so good!
By: Rebecca
Photo: Courtesy of www.strausmilk.com

P.S. We're having some technical difficulties uploading recent pictures because they were taken in Raw format, which is too large a file to post on this site. Hopefully this will be resolved soon. Until then, I will be posting images from the web or clipart that corresponds to the daily blog. Sorry!

Happy New Year! What will you do with 2006?

Photo By: Ted (Taken at Montara State Beach in Half Moon Bay, CA)