Here’s how it’s done:

1 head of kale
2 tablespoons of olive oil
Sea Salt

Preheat the oven to 275 degrees F.

Remove the stems and ribs from the kale and tear into 2 inch pieces. Spread the leaves on a baking sheet and toss with the olive oil and salt. Bake for about 40 minutes, turning about halfway through.

I loathe the original knobs and pulls. I have only myself to blame for their existence though. I picked them out myself in a moment of apathy and paralyzing indecision. That was over 10 years ago, when my Dad built the first of our two dressers. There are 10 pulls, 4 knobs and 4 hinges to replace between our two dressers. At about $5 to $10 a pop, the cost adds up quick, so I’ve learned to live with them.

Recently, Canadian Tire was clearing out their stock of drawer pulls and knobs. Almost everything was priced under $2 and they had a decent selection available. This was my opportunity make the change.

Once again, I was overcome with the same indecision I felt 10 years ago, when my Dad built these pieces. Brushed? Antiqued? Oil Rubbed? Chrome? Bronze? Classic? Contemporary?

Too many options!

Eventually I choose this wavy brushed nickel hardware.

It hasn’t made much impact on the overall look of the room though, as indicated by this discussion with Jeremy:

D: So…notice anything different about our room?

J: Nope.

D: Nothing at all?

J: I don’t know….Wait – something about hinges?
(I’d originally bought the wrong hinges for the highboy cabinets and mentioned I was going out to buy some earlier this week)

D: Close. I replaced the hardware.

He then went on to make some innuendo about pulling knobs and his hardware. My husband is many things, but mature is not one of them.

So, they didn’t make much of an impression.

Personally, I’m not sure if I really love them, but it’s an improvement. We’ll live with them for now, and maybe, in another decade, I’ll find something else.

Ever since I watched that first season of Hoarders, I’ve been concerned about my own tendency to collect things and accumulate stuff. This is why I vowed to myself that I’d stop buying vintage pyrex. Currently, I own about forty pieces, but I really only use about ten of them on a regular basis, so I’ve declared my collection complete. Then, I saw this flameware teapot. I’ve passed so many of these buy because they’ve all had chipped lids or spouts. This one was perfect.

This is the last one.

I mean it this time!

I’d also promised myself that I’d back on the amount of books I bring home. That too, went out the window, when I found this circa 1950s edition of The Joy of Cooking.

I’ve been really enjoying the record player Jeremy bought me for my birthday last year. My album collection (see what I mean about collecting things) hasn’t been coming together quite as fast as I’d hoped though. There’s lots and lots of old records out there, there just isn’t much in decent condition. Most are scratched or warped. So many have been tucked away for years in damp basements or garages, where the climate has taken its toll on the old vinyl. I’m also really picky about the condition of the sleeves when it comes to buying albums and to find them not torn or unblemished is an even more rare.

With that in mind, finding these classics in such remarkable condition was quite a score.

So, that’s not so bad. Just a few little things. No need to call A&E for an intervention yet.

In my humble opinion, film photography is expensive, wasteful, and lacks the instant gratification offered by digital technology. Plus, Photoshop is so much fun. I like to kick it old school in many parts of my life, but when it comes to photography, I embrace the future in every way I can.

With that in mind, I was surprised to find myself purchasing this Olympus Trip 35. I just couldn’t resist the classic vintage shape and cool lens. I have no idea if it actually works but it only set me back $2, so it was worth the risk.

The Olympus Trip 35 was manufactured from the late 1960s, until the mid-1980s and was a top seller marketed toward vacation photographers. It was high performing but inexpensive point and shoot camera, featuring a unique light powered automatic lens, eliminating the need for batteries. I’m not an expert, but if I had to guess, I’d say mine is a model from the late 1970s.

Over ten million of these cameras were sold, so they’re not particularly rare, nor are they expensive. With so many of them still out there, they have a bit of a cult following. Apparently, enthusiasts call themselves trippers.

Now that I’m the proud owner of a film camera, it’s time to see if it works. As far as I can tell, all of the parts are in working order. It’s now locked and loaded. I have 24 frames to shoot, and then we’ll see what happens.

Check out her backyard.

Doesn’t it look heavenly?

This is Barkley, the guard dog.

I’ve never really been a fan of smaller breed dogs, but dachshunds are the exception. This little guy is quite a character.

3000 miles from home and the Easter Bunny still found us!

One of the many things I love about this area is the mid-century architecture.

This is where Elvis and Pricilla spent their honeymoon. Having also been to Graceland, I’m always amazed at how modest Elvis’s homes were, considering his fame and fortune.

After a few days in the desert, we ran out of vacation time and had to get back on a plane and back to work. Almost literally – we left mid afternoon and got home at 1:00 am. I slept for a few hours, and then I was back at my desk. It was good to be home but I’m already looking forward to our next California adventure.

Almost straight.

First we stopped in Santa Barbara. We parked downtown and stumbled upon a pretentious but delicious cafe for lattes. It was so snooty though, lattes weren’t even on the menu – it’s espresso with milk for the unenlightened.

A few hours later, we stopped again in Los Angeles. Partly for another potty/coffee/snack break, but mostly so I could see The Ennis House. This is another place on my Frank Lloyd Wright Must See Checklist.

Relying on our GPS to take us there, we followed it up a narrow, twisty road. It seems in California awesome things always seem to be at the end of narrow, winding roads. The car climbed higher, and higher, until the system told us we had arrived at our destination, but I just didn’t see it.

Then, I looked up.

Holy Crap.

It looms.

It’s privately owned, and currently vacant, due to damage sustained over the years from the elements.

Apparently, the owner is committed to rehabilitating the structure. I can’t even imagine how much that will cost.

I hope someday it’ll be open to the public, so I take a peak inside. In the meantime I just had to settle for the street view.

Even from the street it looks amazing.

I saw this place on a travel show years ago, long before we’d ever even been to California. I knew it was in the state, I just didn’t know exactly where. Then, I forgot about it until our first trip down the Pacific Coast Highway, when the sign on the side of the road caught my eye. We didn’t have time to stop then, and we’d already planned for that night’s accommodations, but I was excited that I finally knew where is was. At that moment, I mentally added it to my travel bucket list.

We made it a destination on this trip, and the fact that our visit coincided with my birthday made our visit even more special.

The inn is best known for it’s individually decorated rooms. There are 109, each based on a different theme. It’s kitch at it’s very best.

We choose the Mountain Cabin.

It reminded me of a room in an Adirondack motel, where we stayed on our way home from Mount Washington last spring. Unlike this one, that motel, which was near Lake Plaid, wasn’t trying to be ironic (it was really cute though).

We didn’t try the motel’s restaurant. We had other dinner plans. Aren’t those pink banquettes the cutest?

We did stop in at the cafe for coffee and pie. In lieu of birthday cake, we had a big sloppy slice of coconut cream pie (not pictured, it was gone too quickly to be photographed).

The heated pool was tucked into the side of the mountain. It was a bit chilly for swimming (for my taste, anyway) but we did go up there for a soak in the hottub after dinner.

The property is immaculate with so many charming details. Somehow, what should be tacky looks almost tasteful here. If only William Randolph Hearst had such clever decorators for his castle.

I’m already looking forward to another stay here. We still have 108 rooms to check out!

We were in better shape this time.

Hearst Castle was built for William Randolph Hearst, who’s best known for being a publishing magnate, although he also dabbled in politics and film production. He was kind of a big deal in the early half of the 1900s. My generation might know him better as the grandfather of Patty Hearst, the kidnapping victim, turned urban guerilla terrorist.

The castle was built on the hill of a ranch owned by the Hearst family since the mid 1800s. Construction began in 1919 and continued until the late 1940s, when Hearst moved to his other insanely huge California mansion in Beverly Hills. By then he was in his 80s and needed health care not accessible from the castle. San Simeon was, and still is, quite remote. He died in 1951.

When he originally consulted with his architect, he’d planned to build a modest bungalow, but somehow ended up with a 165 room castle. Anyone who has ever done any kind of home renovation can understand how these things can get out of hand – am I right?

Incidentally, the castle was never completely finished.

Now, THAT I can relate to.

The castle is set back from the highway.

Way back.

It’s about a 10 minute shuttle ride to reach an altitude of 1600 feet.

To decorate his new place, Hearst took advantage of the European aristocracy’s post WWI fire sale. Mantels from Belgian castle’s, pews from Spanish churches, 300 year old tapestries and other miscellaneous bits and pieces, furniture and priceless works of art clutter up this joint. I can appreciate it as an art gallery, but as a home, it’s a dark gaudy mess and it offends my minimalist sensibilities. Still, it really something that must be seen.

Apparently, designers used this dining room as inspiration for the Harry Potter films.

To call this place ostentatious is an understatement. This is what happens when you have more money than you know what to do with and not much taste.

The view is incredible though.

Aside from the tacky statues everywhere, the property itself is beautiful.

Hearst loved to entertain here and gave the property a resort-like feel.

There are guest cottages…

…and a pool.

Even though it wasn’t particularly warm the day we visited, the pool still looked refreshing.

Too cold for outdoor swimming?

There’s an indoor one too!

It was hard to resist the urge to cannonball into this one.

This pool gets it’s daylight from glass tiles in the tennis courts above.

In it’s heyday, there was even a private zoo on the property. The animals were sold off in the 1930s when Hearst fell on hard times. You can still see some of the enclosures though, and there’s still Zebra’s, descendants of the original herd, running wild on the property According to our guide, they sometimes graze with the cattle (the property is still a working ranch). We didn’t see them though.

Maybe next time.

It’s located at the end of an unmarked, twisty one lane, two mile road, off the Pacific Coast Highway. We drove by at least twice, even with our GPS guiding us. When we finally found it, we discovered the road ended at a national park toll booth, where a aging hippie was collecting five bucks for admission.

We hesitated, because it really didn’t look like there was anything there to see except trees. Nothing against trees. I love trees. We were just looking for the beach, we weren’t really interested in a nature hike at that moment. We wanted to be near the ocean. We don’t get to see it often as we’d like.

We’d gone to all the trouble to get down there though, so we handed over a fiver and parked the car.

From the parking lot, we walked down a path though the wooded area, and as we turned the corner, we felt as though we’d been let in on a big secret.

I can’t even think of an appropriate word to describe it.

Enchanting, maybe?

The beach was remote and unspoiled, making it seem like we’d stumbled upon another world. For a moment, I felt like a character in a C.S. Lewis novel.

The wind was bitter, but the sun and sand was warm.

It was so beautiful. My camera simply could not do it justice.

This year we returned to the central coast. Years ago, we’d stopped for the night in Carmel, on our way from San Francisco to Palm Springs. After spending less than a day in the area we’d wished we had more time to spend there. This time around we planned to stay for a few days to poke around.

On our way from the airport in San Jose, we stopped at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.

We’d also been here a few years ago, on a cold dreary day in February. It had been empty that day, and nearly everything was closed. It felt sort of like being in a episode of Scooby Doo where we would try to find the ghost that’s scaring off the customers. We didn’t. We just left in search of lunch instead.

This visit was in a warm, sunny spring day. It was bustling. No ghosts to apprehend this time.

Then, we kept moving south to Carmel.

Carmel is a small city on the Monterey Peninsula, kind of in the middle of the state. It’s known for it’s beauty, which served as inspiration for it’s many artists who have made it home over the years. Ansel Adams once lived here, as well as Jack London. Clint Eastwood even served a term as Mayor here in the late 1980s.

There’s not really much to do in Carmel but take in the scenery. Many of the breathtaking views can be seen along the 17 Mile Drive, a toll road that loops though coniferous forests, along the coast and by some of the area’s famous golf courses, including Pebble Beach.

The best views though, are south of Carmel, near Big Sur – another area known for attracting creative types. Jack Kerouac, Henry Miller and Hunter S. Thompson, all spent time here.

This was just the beginning…