Me: Lily, please stop chewing a hole in the living room rug and come over here. I know you’re obsessed with making a soppy gross hole in the most prominent rug in the house, but it’s time to take a break from your mission to do a little Q&A. People are curious about you. … Hello? Heelllllooooo-ooooh! Yo! Dog! Over here!
Lily: Heh?
While I attempted (**cough**, emphasis on attempted) to study chemistry Jack spent the weekend making, then canning, a delicious marinara.
Our region of California used to be the largest tomato producer in the state so we have a huge tomato season every August. It has spoiled us. There’s nothing better than candy ripe, locally grown tomatoes. Yum-ee.
It’s been a cool summer so the tomatoes are about a month late coming into season. Every week we’ve checked Larry’s, our local produce stand, for the big bumper crop of tomatoes that we know will start pouring in like an avalanche. FINALLY, we spotted the huge crates of roma tomatoes. Yay! The season has finally begun! $10 for a 22-25lb box. Not great. But not bad either. It’s the beginning of the season. When we hit the season full swing, you can pick up a crate of gorgeous heirlooms for $6. Oooh, man. I can’t wait! I’m starting to feel tingly all over.
But for now …
Jack grabbed a crate of plump, dark red romas and hurried home to make enough marinara to keep us in sauce for a year. Or two.
I started hiking the TMB with my trusty Kindle loaded with new books to read. By day two I realized that paperback books are better suited for backpacking; it can better withstand the hard knocks of trekking. I was terrified I would crush my Kindle, which I’ve grown to love and adore. With a tear and a pout I shipped it home from a post office in France.
Sniffle.
And then we headed to the nearest bookstore to find me a paperback book. Read the rest of this entry
Nothing says summer like a big blue lake, particularly a fun-filled lake in the South of France.
After nine days trekking the TMB we decided to skip the last two stages of the trail and head for Annecy, a popular vacation town on the northern tip of Lac d’Annecy, about an hour by train from Chamonix, France.
It was my first time to Annecy; however, Jack had spent time on the lake some twenty years ago while living in France. He had fond memories of Annecy and was curious to see if the popular resort town lived up to his memories. I’m happy to report that it did. Read the rest of this entry
For hikers and trekkers around the world the cairn, a deliberate stack or pile of stones, is always a welcome landmark.
Sometimes a cairn indicates a memorial of a place or event. Sometimes it marks a burial spot. In the photo above this large cairn is a memorial for a British trekker who died going through this mountain pass from France into Italy.
That’s me, adding a stone to this memorial cairn.
As we hiked the TMB we came across dozens and dozens of cairns. I became obsessive, almost superstitious, about not passing a cairn without adding a stone like the trekkers before me. No matter how weary I always stopped to search out and add a stone. I was always grateful for the marker left by previous trekkers and felt compelled to add to the effort and pay it forward, like it was good luck.
In prepping for the Tour du Mont Blanc (TMB) I did a lot of research. I was a virgin to Alpine hiking and I wanted to really enjoy my time on the trail so I wanted to be prepared.
By and large the information that’s out there on trekking the TMB is extensive and reliable. But here are some things that I’d wish I’d known about before setting out.
Loonyville 