Heat, quakes and dust

How Southern California feels  (Photo source)

It is damn hot right now. So hot, that even the notorious LA smog has retreated from the sun.

Fahrenheit is something I've yet to master interpretation of, but I know one thing without having to reach for my conversion chart - triple digits equals serious heat. It also sounds far more dramatic in fahrenheit.

101ºF versus 38ºC... see?

The heat has been fairly consistent over the last few weeks. I can't really complain - I'll take heat over cold any day, and we're lucky to have access to a swimming pool. We also have air con in our apartment, but I'm not a big fan (sorry for the pun).

The air con is usually switched on as a last resort to cool our place down. I hate having to keep all the windows shut, and I hate having to forever nag the Faery and her playmates to close the door - again - as they run in and out.

Anyhow, we've not had much choice lately. It's air con, or roast to death.

Spending the days inside - what feels like - hermetically sealed quarters has had its advantages, though. I've finally been able to tackle some DIY projects I've been wanting to do for a while. Well, one project.

That project was to start a photo wall. I've wanted one for the longest while, and J is able to get a lot free photo printing done through his work - perfect for showing off some of my better photos of us, the girls, and travels.

Having rented for so long, I was never able to build a collection of framed photos for the wall, because our leases usually prohibited us from putting hooks or nails in the walls. However, our current place seems to be a little more lenient about that, so I decided to go for it.

Last week, I began the process of selecting from the stacks of photos I asked J to enlarge and print for me, and sorting them into different frames. Only a dozen pics for now, but it's a start until I get some more frames. It's a convenient excuse for another trip to IKEA.

Despite recommendations in California to not hang anything above sofas and beds (earthquake safety), I thought to hell with it, and sprawled some photos above our sofa. My reasoning was that if an earthquake does strike, and we do happen to be on the sofa, we'll just get off it - how hard could that be?

Last Thursday, I hung up two more frames in the morning. In the late afternoon, I switched on the TV to catch some news, and saw that there had actually been an earthquake at 1.47pm. It was 4.3 on the Richter scale, so apparently somewhat noticeable... but, nope. I didn't feel a thing (J informed me that everyone who was sitting down at his work felt it, and that's only a five-minute drive away). I'm hoping this means our apartment building is exceptionally sturdy.

The framed photos on the wall didn't so much as wobble a millimetre.

I've been admiring my handiwork ever since but this week, it just occurred to me that there's a downside to having a lovely collection of moments framed on a wall - dusting.

I've never been particularly diligent when it comes to dusting. I've never had big collections of pretty knick-knacks that collect dust, for two reasons. One, I hate dusting. Two, small chubby hands of destructive toddlers. It's a system that's worked fairly well for me in recent years.

Not any more. I've gone and put up the biggest damn dust-collecting collection of all on the wall...

Six

Six more sleeps until I'm in San Francisco.

Five more sleeps until my birthday, but I am infinitely more excited about having a weekend alone to do some serious exploring. Not that I'm dreading my birthday - I'm not of an age yet where I hate turning another year older - but a weekend in San Francisco? Now, that is something to break into song and dance about.

My flights will be just over an hour, but allowing for getting to and from Oakland International Airport, I will have slightly over thirty hours to see what San Francisco has to offer. That's about the longest I can be away from Miss Pie for, as I've yet to fully wean her. It's not so much her that I'm worried about, but my boobs... but hey, it's a small price to pay for a weekend of freedom.

Anyhow, thirty-something hours to experience San Francisco? Not enough time, I'm well aware.

I need to get cracking and work out a plan of action this week. I'm not one for strict itineraries when travelling - I prefer to just go with the flow and see where I'm taken - but all my research so far has indicated that there is an incredible amount of things I want to do, places I want to see.

I need to be brutal. Museums and galleries are off the list. In the past, I would have made every effort to see some artwork, but time will not be my luxurious friend on this trip.

Instead, I want to take in as much of the outdoor vistas as possible. Get snap-happy. That's what makes me happy these days. San Francisco is famous for it's beautiful views, hilltops, and parks. I'm going to need some serious walking shoes, which is lucky, because I bought a pair of much needed new sneakers the other week. As in, the first new pair in probably three years. These babies are so cushioned, they make me feel like I'm flying, so all those hilly walks should be a breeze.

With jeans, camera around my neck and brand new, glowing white sneakers, I'm going to fit right in - just like a tourist from the Midwest. Hmm, maybe I should ditch the jeans in favour of cargos.

The timing of this trip happens to coincide with the annual Cherry Blossom Festival in Japantown. I was planning to see Japantown anyway, given how much I love all things Japanese. Apparently after the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, Japan was the largest contributor to aid relief and helping to rebuild the city, which will make this year's festival somewhat poignat, too. The festival will be on for the entire weekend, so I'll only be able to see a small part of it if I'm serious about seeing other parts of San Fransisco.

I really don't know how I'm going to see everything I want. I will be on foot, or using cable cars and other public transport. I am known to friends as the Queen of Public Transport because I've always been good at figuring it out, no matter where I am - well, before kids, that was. A lot of that was down to my issues with driving, but I'm still a big believer in public transport - at least in cities where it's efficient and well-maintained. Los Angeles is not one of those cities.

So on my hitlist: Japantown, Chinatown (of course!), Golden Gate Park, The Presidio, Nob Hill, Telegraph Hill, Haight-Ashbury, maybe Fisherman's Wharf (for the yummy food I've read about), maybe Alamo Square (to see the iconic Painted Ladies)... did someone say tourist? If I had more time, I would also love to see The Castro and The Mission districts, but I have a feeling that would be pushing my luck.

Luckily, my hotel will be two blocks away from the California Street cable car, and not far from Downtown, so exploring should be fairly easy.

I think I have a fairly good idea of what I'll try to see during the day, so next? I just need to think about about how I'll spend Saturday night in San Franscisco. I'll be alone, so nothing wild. I also want to travel light (I'll be carrying my stuff around everywhere) so I want to avoid needing to get dolled up for anywhere too dressy. One thing's for sure, though. I'm going to enjoy having my king-sized hotel bed all to myself. All of it.

And with any luck, I may even find somewhere that makes a good coffee. It's got to be better than what's on offer here in LA, right? That would be the icing on the cake.

If there are any readers out there with more specific suggestions or recommendations that fit into the areas I'll be in, I'm all ears and would love to hear from you.

My Japanese Heart

Strength

The news I woke up to this morning was of devastation. A magnitude of which I can't begin to comprehend.

I've never been to Japan, but it is the country that's number one on my list of places to experience. It's been number one for most of my adult life.

It's a feeling I have deep in my bones, an intuition that Japan is a place I'll adore. There is so much that I've come to love about Japanese culture over the years. Their food is an obvious feature, but there is so much more.

So much beauty.

Yet, so vulnerable to the extremes of nature.

Since I began working as an English language teacher, I count myself lucky to have known the loveliest, most wonderfully hard-working Japanese students. Ones who made the brave and difficult step of immersing themselves completely in another country, in order to learn this tricky, idiosyncratic language known as English.

Through these hundreds of gentle souls, the complex spirit of Japan has come to feel strangely familiar to me.

The Japanese have a special place in my heart.

* * *

This is also a scary reminder to me that - as we live on a massive fault line in California - we need to be prepared for the Big One. It scares me to think of it striking, and being unable to protect my little ones.

I don't want to think about it.