A Few Beers Please

The good news about our trip to Calistoga was that it only took a few beers to fully recover from the mud bath experience.  I had booked us a night at the newly renovated Sunburst Motel just a ten minute walk into town.  We used the walk to take in the scenery, enjoy the warm weather and, later that night, to sober up on our walk home. 

Slightly hungry from the spa, we headed straight into town in search of an outdoor casual restaurant for a beer and snack.  We found our destination at the Calistoga Inn Restaurant and Brewery with its perfect outdoor patio along the creek.  We ordered beers and to my pleasant surprise, Martin forewent his normal healthy cravings and suggested the buffalo wings and fries.  I was in my own private Eden!

A few beers later, we decided to wander the town before selecting a restaurant.  Wandering, led us to Suzy’s, an amazing old bar that had cold beers and the Giants game on.  And as if the afternoon of bliss that had started with the wings and fries couldn’t get any better, Martin introduced me to some of his many bar tricks using the drink coasters…I never knew he was so talented!

A few more beers on and we found ourselves shopping along the main road, stopping at Maxine’s to snag a cute mid-century modern ice bucket that we couldn’t live without and clearly a must for any newly married couple.  With the shop about to close we didn’t stay long and instead continued on in search for a place for dinner that included good food but was “classy” enough for our casual attire and flip flops.  We found Hyrdo Bar and Grill where we wrapped up the evening with burgers and one more beer.

The walk home under the stars helped to clear our heads and unfortunately Martin’s stomach…shortly after getting back to the room I found him digging into the $7 jar of M&Ms.    

We packed up the following morning and took the scenic route up to Dana and Ray’s for Easter Brunch.  While we physically had left Calistoga, I could still smell the mud from the mud baths throughout the following day… or maybe that was the stale beer breath from the night before.

Breuer Family Holiday

This past week, Martin and I made the trek back across the pond for the annual Breuer Family Ski Holiday.  With a break the past two years, this marked my third time to the quaint valley of Ridianna for cross country skiing.  And within the first 24 hours, I realized two things:

1. With my silk pajamas (the easiest to pack) and silk sleeping mask (to help with the jet lag) I officially looked the part of the much admired rich and famous growing up, or even better, Holly Golightly without the cute earplugs; and

2. It pains me to admit it; I have been in the past and most likely will be in the future, a spoiled and stereotypical American tourist. 

On my first two trips to the valley, the experience failed to live up to my ridiculously high (and incorrect) European standards and expectations…this was not the Europe that I had so lovingly left in 2009, the one with easy access to trains, cute town square, restaurants with red and white checkered tablecloths and cafes on the sidewalk…No, this was a one hotel village with everything you could need provided in house.  It was the equivalent of an all inclusive Mexican Resort, only in the Italian Alps, with German as the main language and in the midst of winter.   I guess my misconceived notion of an Italian vacation is how Europeans would view a trip to California without a ride on the cable cars and a stroll through Fisherman’s wharf…not what they had envisioned and as a result missing the true gems that the city and country offers. 

So, jaded as I was, I failed to see the sublime charm and relaxing environment that the valley and vacation offered. 

It did not go unnoticed this time around.  The subtle routine of the place, while once rigid, was now appreciated: breakfast at 8, one to two laps of skiing in the morning, shower then lunch (not just coffee and cake as in years past), then an afternoon of your choice: skiing, reading, sleeping, or the sauna.  The only guarantee was that dinner was at 7, it would be delicious and even after turning down one or two of the courses, I would leave stuffed to the brim.  And the only thing to curb the pains of overeating were glasses of Ramazzotti at the bar and a few (heated) rounds of Dopplekoepf, the German version of Hearts where the rules are crazy, points system impossible to follow and the entire Breuer family’s individual pride were on the line.  When I left early on Wednesday, Annagret was up 50 points and I was dead last with negative 39. Like I said, it is not the most intuitive game ever invented and I don’t see them adopting Uno anytime soon.

And while a Mexican Resort or metropolitan city may offer a little more to do in way of activities, I have grown to like (love is still too strong of a word), cross country skiing.  I even came mentally and physically prepared this time around.  I had my own boots and cute pants and I was in theory in better shape.  It took less than 10 minutes of actually being on the snow to kill all hopes of an Olympic gold medal in the biathlon…one, because I have never actually shot a gun (but could learn) and two, more importantly, I was still horribly ill prepared for the physical exertion.  Every move of my legs would result in minimal forward motion…I could literally do the running man in the skis without moving an inch…come to find out that I had the wrong skis (meant for skating meaning no traction vs. classical which is what I was attempting).  This piece of information was not lost on Martin, we planned to ski up the valley to the ski shop to get the right pair and Martin thought I could just “fight it” for the first half of the lap. I was less than amused. Things improved significantly with the better gear and by the end of my third day, I had finally hit my, albeit slow, but steady groove.

Unfortunately for me, just when the routine was finally settling in, it was time for me to go…work called, leaving me at the airport on my way home and Martin in Europe to enjoy a few additional days.  

Until next year!

A Few Things to Do in San Francisco

Looking back at the past month or two, I realized that even while consumed with work, I was able to do some cool things close to home. 

As part of Lyndsay’s week of leaving, similar to my Lisapolooza, a group of 8 girls made the trek to Hog Island Oyster Company in Tamales Bay for some fresh oysters and good times.  Picking the day that just happened to bring a light rain (the first in months) we came prepared with our cute hunter boots, warm blankets and umbrellas to go along with our 12 bottles of wine and full spread of cheese, crackers, salami, chips, dips, salsa, cookies and yes, some oysters.   Thankfully the umbrellas weren’t needs but the wellies were definitely appreciated…it was muddy and my shucking skills were such that each oyster opened resulted in a burst of salt water.

Looking for a unique date night shortly thereafter, Martin bought tickets to the Exploratorium After-Hours event. Closed on most evenings, the Exploratorium opens up one Thursday each month from 6-10pm for adults over 18 to enjoy the space, drink a few drinks and mingle/party while feeling smart and cultured.  We thankfully got there early and wandered the space, taking our time at each exhibit: me excited to see that some of my favorite displays from growing up had made the move to the new space and Martin trying each hands-on-activity, even more excited and intrigued than me…. I can only imagine his design driven brain working at full capacity growing up and playing with tinker toys or legos.  The crowds showed up around 8, changing the feeling of the space from a vast learning museum to a Hipster infused club so we took our leave and headed to the newly renovated Fog City for a late dinner.

While not available to most, I was lucky enough to score two tickets to the AT&T Pro Am Golf Tournament in Pebble Beach the first weekend in February.  With Martin being unimpressed by both golf and celebrities, I invited my girlfriend Anjulee to join me for the day of gawking.  Unfortunately the rains and wind settled in Saturday morning (I swear we are in a drought) and our day of walking the greens turned into a day of drinking at the Clubhouse. Celebrities, we saw none, but friends were definitely made…but I guess that tends to happen when you post up at a bar for 8 hours.  We ended the night with curry fries and mozzarella sticks at a pub near our hotel followed by a trip to Walgreens for Pepto Bismol…the day of drinking finally took its toll on me and my 80 year old stomach.

Following our fun night at the Exploratorium, Martin and I were looking forward to another sophisticated evening at the Symphony, a wedding gift from our friends Mike and Ron.  Our first trip back in December was Martin’s choice and a classy affair.  In February I had my choice, a night at the Oscar’s, where the symphony played scores from Oscar winning movies while the movie played on a screen overhead.  We heard and saw some of the greats: Ben Hur, Gone with the Wind, Citizen Kane, Wizard of Oz and Robin Hood with commentary prior to each segment to further our film and music knowledge.  For a movie lover, it was perfect and I am already looking forward to next year.

And finally, my mom and I celebrated lucky number B3 with our third anniversary of Bubbly and Bingo.  Put on by Le Donne d’Italia, the women’s Italian group of North Beach, my mom and I have gone for the past two years using the Sunday event of Bingo, champagne and Italian lunch as an opportunity to catch up and bond.  Our first year we failed to get even one bingo and last year our only winnings were at the raffle… This year we decided to share the event and invite our friends …13 in all!  I somehow convinced the college girls (all but Jo) to come (but with free champagne the arguments were limited) and they were joined by McKane, Anna, Colorado Erin and the Ladies from the Lake!  The champagne flowed, the good times were had and we left with some pretty hefty winnings….Dori won a bingo (or as she called out “Whoop!”) Sue, Sabine and my mom all won a raffle prize and my mom unknowingly won the grand prize bingo…it just took a few additional rounds to realize it and by then she had to share the port with four others.

A Letter to Mom’s Out There

Well, I guess we are officially at that point in our relationship where Martin and I have started talking about having kids.  It has been over a year since we got married and neither of us are getting any younger (and I definitely want to be a somewhat younger MILF if still possible), so this past Christmas, on our two week vacation of just “us” time, we seriously started the long awaited “when are we going to have kids”  conversations.  I am sure you all know the one…or maybe ours was different, who knows…ours revolved around me being an over-planner and Martin being overly excited.  The gist of it went like this: there is no perfect time to have a baby and even if you tried to plan it to the day, month, season, etc. nature will fight back so, knowing the odds, when is the least disruptive time to really do this…that is of course planning around vacations, weddings, work schedules and my potential discovery on some amazing reality show competition that I have not yet signed up for.  Man we are busy people, when will we find time to actually have a baby!  As a side note, I can appreciate the irony that two childless adults are attempting to find the least disruptive time to get pregnant, since once pregnant, everything will be disruptive.

Figuring out the timing was only one aspect of the conversation though.  The bigger discussion was how to prepare for the unknown experiences and challenges this pregnancy and ultimately baby may bring us.  I thankfully have an amazing group of mom friends (you all included) that have candidly told me all of the stories of pregnancies and child rearing (and if anything was held back in these stories, I am more concerned than ever since what I have heard so far is enough to make me cry)… nine months of morning sickness, migraines, stretch marks, swollen ankles, back pains, horrendous mood swings, bad gas, bladder control issues, 50 lbs of weight gain, and sleepless nights (not just for the nine months but for the rest of your life).  I already can’t touch my toes and am uncomfortably close in comparable weight to Martin. I can only imagine what this “gift from God” will do to me, my body and mental state.

Thankfully, knowing what things may come and being able to prepare for them, makes me feel slightly more comfortable about everything.  No surprises right?  Meanwhile, I get the feeling that Martin has images of a loving, pregnant wife, who has the motherly glow and a slightly larger belly but no other significant changes.  And I am afraid his vision is nowhere near the reality that may come, setting us up for failure…while I see the challenges and am preparing for the worst, Martin sees all of the joy kids bring his friends and none of the stress his friends’ wives are going through.

I have tried to use scare tactics: we won’t sleep, no sex for months, I might not lose the baby weight, the baby might have health problems; but he just smiles and similar to the wedding planning, tells me I am overreacting*.  Which in the end I might be, but someone needs to plan for Plan B.  As he kindly reminds me in every other facet of life “failing to prepare is preparing to fail.”  * As another side note, Martin later told me after the weddings that I had in fact not overreacted as much as he originally thought after he had the pleasure of planning and coordinating the Germany wedding.

So in order to ease my mind and ensure Martin is at least somewhat “prepared” in my eyes, we have made a deal.  He will read a book on children raising and pregnancy of my choosing and once done, we will begin the joyous process of having a baby.  And this is where I need your help ladies:  In all of your preparations and planning, I am sure you have read plenty of “how to” and “plan for” books.  In your experiences which were the most brutally honest, truest to life, scare-the-crap-out-of-you books that you read?  I don’t want Martin reading about the pregnancy “glow”, joy of birth, first kicks or the baby being the size of a cumquat, I want him learning about cracked nipples, postpartum, and colicky babies.  The joy part can come later, once we are locked in.  

Thanks in advance!