So We Went to This Really Cool Resort

...in So California, run by this couple (above) and their cute kids (below).

Huh. It's actually my sister Tena, who is the new boss of this plant where they make cool stuff including dog toys.

Here she is in her office, interviewing a potential underling (John). He wasn't hired.

Here she is in her safety glasses and steel-toe shoes before going onto the floor. She has a little motto on her desk top that we should all remember: Women are angels, and when someone clips our wings, we simply continue to fly on a broomstick. We're flexible that way.

We flew to Orange County/ John Wayne/ Santa Ana (SNA) airport—the airport with the most names ever—because the nearby Ontario flights were full, but today it looked like the standby seats were holding steady, and we made it on to come home. Tena was a little worried about the weekend I-15 traffic in from Las Vegas if she had to drive to SNA this afternoon (although she said she could figure alternatives), but their house is a sweet 20 minutes away from Ontario.

Their home is perfect for them—four bedrooms, an open floor plan, indoor/outdoor with tiled floors, austerely furnished (by Tena)—a lovely place to live and a beautiful and restful place to visit. It’s probably a little smaller than our house if you count Grandma Gene’s place, but every inch counts. I am returning for sure, probably in March--fair warning, guys! It is a private family resort, all the advantages of vacation travel but with their own showers, kitchen, and beds. Aisake gave up his room for us and slept on the couch downstairs.

But the biggest treat of all is their backyard, which is a cross between an upscale resort, an Italian bistro, and a jungle camp site, with the palm trees, spa and pool, bar and barbeque, tables on the terrace behind wrought iron, fire pit seating, waterfall, citrus and banana orchard and taro garden. The orchard and garden are small,

but there’s an orange and a lemon growing. It would be fun to go to the beach sometime, but why travel when there’s perfection in your backyard?

Hummingbirds came to the bird-of-paradise plants at the back of the yard:

The land slopes steeply to the north, and the builders made a terrace behind a wrought iron fence (I didn't get a good photo of the winding staircase up to it). Tena has put bistro tables and chairs up there, and said they picnic in dry safety there while Aisake splashes in the pool below.

We gave up on heating the pool after awhile. John and Aisake braved the 65 degree pool water but not for long (John was in and out too quickly for me to get a photo).

The sweetest, absolutely best thing was the spa. With as much body mass as I have, I do one initial warm-up, and then spend most of the rest of the evening wandering wetly around in the breeze waiting to cool down again. John was more pop in and out of the spa-pool-spa-pool, then go indoors and have another nap on the sofa. It really made me decide that we need a hot tub ourselves. Not until we get back from London and I built up my income again, but then heck yeah. We’re all set up for one, it’s just buying it and putting it in.

John is steamed!

The pool and spa lights change colors. Here we look like we're cooking in a witch's brew:

We dried off and warmed up around the fire:

Tena and Teane came to pick us up at Orange County and we didn't get in until about 11:30 pm Friday and Pesi cooked waffles and scrambled eggs for us before we went to bed. Tena and Teane fed us Greek yummy-ness on Saturday. We missed the big BBQ they had planned because everybody was too full until too late. One more reason to return. Below, Aisake and John are silly in the kitchen:

Tena and Teane stayed home from church to take us back to the airport, but Pesi and Aisake were dressed in their Sunday finery. As you can see, Aisake is already out-growing his new suit:

Here we are at the mini-resort. I'm going back for sure! Thanks Tena, Pesi, Teane, and Aisake, for a great and relaxing weekend.

An Invitation

I'll be posting stuff to our UK blog more frequently now, as we leave in ONLY FIVE MORE MONTHS. I'm excited, and apprehensive, since I didn't actually have a job when we left for half a year the previous two times. Will I still have a practice when I come back? Well, no, but maybe I can rebuild it. Poverty is a small price to pay for the chance to live in such a beautiful house and exciting city for six months.

People are already starting to schedule visits! Make sure you get your reservation in early. Hint: London is less crowded in the fall than in the summer, and we will probably be in a bigger apartment fall semester--more room for visitors. But any time will be great!

The photo of Ethan is a bonus.

So We Went to Hawaii Again...

...Rob got Chris a buddy pass and off we went in three separate groups. John and Chris flew to LA on Thursday and on to Honolulu Friday, where they rented a car and visited the North Shore. They climbed Temple Hill, ate at the Seasider, walked out to Goat Island, visited John's old office. Our old house from 18 years ago is torn down! John took photos of everything, and I'll try to get copies up on the blog.

Nicolle, the kids and I tried for the direct flight to Honolulu Friday morning but ended up traveling via LA, and were about 4 hours later getting there than we'd planned. Rob got off work early and came 2 hours after us. We rode the bus to Waikiki from the airport and went straight to bed. Above is the view from our hotel lanai. The next morning, John, Chris, and Rob climbed Diamond Head while Nicolle, the kids, and I went to the beach. Nicolle was working on a paper for her class so I had the babies and didn't take photos.

Colette was very impressed with her mom's beautiful beach dress and wore it Saturday while we rested back at the hotel.

We totally skipped lunch but had an early dinner at the Cheesecake Factory.

Chris practices his suave look:

John, Chris and I took the kids to the beach so Rob and Nicolle could go off on their own. It was brightly lit and beautiful. The water was warm. Sort of warm--by the end they were freezing of course.



Sand fight! This can only end badly.

John found a green inner tube abandoned on the beach. And an orange one. And two beach mats. And then we had to carry them back to the hotel along with the sandy, shivering children.

Mermaid Colette:

The next morning while Nicolle worked on her paper at the hotel, the rest of us went back to the beach.

Chris worked on his tan.

Everybody else used sunscreen.

Little clam Colette:



After showers and lunch we checked out and rode the bus around the island to Sea Life Park.


The coral tank was the most interesting and beautiful part of the park. We watched the rays and other fish.

We watched them feed the turtles.

We saw the dolphins and sea lions.




We saw a few birds as well.


Colette found a hibiscus blossom.

We rode the bus to the Ala Moana Mall for dinner, and some of us shopped while the rest waited.

The flight was not bad coming back--there were enough empty seats to stretch out and get some sleep. Even so, Chris and I were pretty useless the next day. However, John went straight back to school and Rob to work, dedicated souls that they are. I tried that last time and was grateful this time for a day to recover.

Below, feeding the rays at Sea Life Park:

Las Vegas

John and I didn't find an open flight to Las Vegas for his conference, so we drove--it was a lot of fun to be together and only took a couple of hours more than flying would have. Or less. He was presenting with Stacy and Cat (above, on the right) on using writing in wilderness experiences. They did a good job, if trying to give too much information in a one hour forum. I liked the whole conference, which was full of skinny, weathered 'experiential educators' from the US and Canada--and I guess from other places too--John met a woman from El Salvadore--who talked about sustainability and environmental ethics. It sort of overlapped teaching, therapy, and wilderness.

Joe B's daughter Zina was there too, with a friend from Wasatch Academy. We went out to eat and wandered around a bit--below, the waterfall inside the Venetian.

Cat took a photo of John and me in front of the waterfall at the Wynn:

Here's a picture specifically for Brett (and Ethan):

My favorite of the hotel/casinos is the Venetian, with its fake sky and fake canals:

The next night after everybody else had gone home, we walked two miles south along the Strip and had the Caesar's Palace buffet:

We saw the water show at the Bellagio, and their gorgeous botanical exhibit inside, and saw the volcano erupt at the Mirage, and caught the end of the pirate show at Treasure Island, which has inexplicably changed its name (like KFC) to "TI."

But outside our window, abandoned construction, great dead hulks of darkness at night:

Yesterday before we headed back home we had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory with Jordan from England 2007. It was great to see him, even though we missed Rose.

Las Vegas is just incredibly, deliberately tacky. White trash on steroids. It’s so offensive that it’s beyond comprehension—I’m stunned into silence. The polished bronze backsides of 8 or 10 dancing girls outside the front door of our hotel/casino, and people taking photos (usually of the women in their party) posing with them, for example. Why, as a woman, would you want to pose with a bunch of ladies’ butts? Is it funny or what? But I was strongly tempted to take a photo of them too, it was so obviously meant to be photographed. My feeling as an American or Westerner around the foreign tourists, is like having a dirty-minded, rich, half-drunk, out-of-control elderly relative present at a reception. “Oh my gosh, somebody put Aunt LV in the bedroom before she insults the Prime Minister. Not the bedroom where the grandkids are sleeping!” (because who knows what she’d do to them). On the other hand, the foreign tourists wouldn’t be in Las Vegas if they weren’t hoping to see her do something crazy.

There’s a lot of construction just north of the Riviera and across the street—gigantic buildings in various stages, but with no one working on them. The cranes are idle and nobody is around. It’s kind of creepy. There’s a place like that on State Street in Orem, where the exposed beams, half covered with tattered wallboard, whistle in the wind. (More or less). Ah the elections. (The end of a lightning swift neuronal pathway: stopped construction > bad economy > Wall Street sharks > Dems and Repubs both in their pockets > elect anybody it will be the same.) Do I really believe that? I voted (Democratic) this Tuesday, for Dems who in Utah County would have been indistinguishable from the Republicans. Not that a Democrat would ever win in Utah County.

To end on a happier note: Chris has loaded his entire CD "Fire in a Snowstorm" online, here. Sweet.