Jul 28, 2012 |
It’s no secret that the Mission Inn in Riverside, CA is one of my family’s favorite destinations. Whether it’s just for an afternoon of strolling or a weekend getaway, this beautiful and historic location has much to offer people of all ages.
Three of my favorite photos were taken by either myself or my daughter during a Three-Generation Stay in April, 2011. It was the first time my mother, myself, and my daughter were on the same vacation.
Peaceful Morning
Who I Am [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Tiramisu at the Bella Trattoria
The Miller family bought the Glenwood Cottage in the 1870s. In 1880, young Frank Miller purchased it from his father with the intent to develop it into a fine retreat; an oasis in the middle of the California desert. What originally began as a boarding house would later become the historically renowned Mission Inn, now owned by Duane Roberts who invested much time and money in restoring the Inn.
In the beautiful Riverside area, the Mission Inn has blossomed into an internationally renowned retreat. The list of famous guests continues to this day. Many authors have stayed at, and written about, the Mission Inn. Last year, our stay included the “Of Love and Evil” package, featuring an autographed copy of Anne Rice’s book of the same title. Noted singers, performers, authors, actors, political persons and Presidents have signed their names to the proverbial Guest Book.
Our room was one of the Glenwood Suites on the Third Floor. Tucked into one of the corners, our view encompassed the Clock Tower, Author’s Row, and overlooked the Spanish Patio. [The above photo, “Peaceful Morning”, was taken from our doorway in the early morning.]
View of Author’s Row [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Symbol of Riverside [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Casey’s Cupcakes [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
But what I really appreciate about the Mission Inn is that I never feel like a tourist there. I feel valued. It doesn’t matter if I’m reserving the cheapest room or Keeper of the Inn Suite [not that I’ve yet had that privilege… I’m saving that for my Best Seller Celebration]: the Mission Inn staff is always courteous, smiling, friendly, helpful, and appreciative. The grounds are always clean. And the food is always memorable. From a small bite of room service to the Veal Lasagna at the Bella Trattoria on the corner to the sweet desserts of Casey’s Cupcakes to the individual Keurig coffee personally blended in our rooms.
No morsel is mundane. No view is ordinary. No visit is just a memory. Each is an experience to be savored and shared. And, as much as possible, repeated.
Presidential Suite Patio
Architecture
The Turret
Dot on the Fourth Floor
Rooftop Herb Garden
Refreshing Fountains
Rooftop Herbs
Perimeter [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Festival of Lights [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Author’s Row at Evening [Photo Credit: Hannah Realy]
Ambient Fountain
Find the Mission Inn on the web:
MissionInn.com
On Facebook: The Mission Inn
On twitter: @MissionInnHotel
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
This post is linked up with Frankly, My Dear’s… Destination Station!
You may also like:
My Personal History of Coffee (And a Keurig Review)
Invisible Person in a Sea of People: Robin H. and the 99-Cent Sin
Jul 3, 2012
Remember about six weeks ago when I brought home some vegetation that looked promising? And then it didn’t?
Well, with some hard work, cooperating weather (less heat), and some Miracle-Gro and water, my crops are starting to, well, crop.
It took a full month of delicate, tedious care and prayer, and now my three plants are beginning to bear food. The tomato plant already blessed us with two beefsteak tomatoes last week, but I thought that would be all for this year.
Until this morning. I went out to diligently water, and in my pruning, peeking, and pouring, I found all these glorious new beginnings.
Fred the Tomato
Edgar the Eggplant
Gigi the Green Pepper Plant
I’m thinking in about a month, I should be enjoying some really wonderful Ratatouille from The Unemployment Cookbook.
Next year I’m going to invest in a raised-bed garden and plant some other types of produce like maybe potatoes and lettuce and zucchini. I’ll also try my hand at more upside-down planting with berries and grapes and such.
My mouth’s watering just thinking about it.
Do you like to garden? What are some of your gardening tips?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she ate wrote!
Jun 14, 2012
My friend Mary sent me this photo last week. This turtle came to say hi to her at work. She said it was most likely nesting and laying eggs. A few hours later, the turtle was gone, and there was no sign of any eggs.
I asked her if I could use this photo. First, because it’s just an awesome photo. I mean, look at those eyes! And the size of those claws and feet! I’d hate to tussle with those.
The other reason I wanted to use Mary’s photo is because it reminds me of a story I’d nearly forgotten; one of those funny family tales that I’m sure will be passed down to several generations. Just for the record, I’ve decided to put it here on the blog so there’s no distant-memory-recall-defect.
This is the true story of
Lucky.
I bought my house in September, 2009 and moved in a month later. The yards were overgrown with dried grass, sprawling juniper, and faded, dried branches. During one cleaning excursion I found near the side of the front yard, a pit. It was carved into the ground, and covered with two pieces of wood that had been haphazardly nailed together.
It was a long trench. Nearly three feet long, and a foot deep. It was pretty creepy. And looked as though it could have gone farther. What was its purpose? I’d heard rumors that the previous owner, a fellow cat lover, buried her deceased felines throughout the property. [Don’t worry, this hasn’t been proven… although there are some questionable lumps in the back yard.]
Prior to actually moving in, it didn’t take long for me to hire someone to come in and remove all the dead shrubbery around the house, rake up the dead grass, and fill that ridiculously creepy hole in the ground. [Note to self: in a future blog, explain exactly why creepy yard holes are, well, so creepy.]
It took a few days, but the yard turned out nice. Level. Clean. And filled. I was happy. Dot was happy.
And then it happened. I had some friends over. Neighbors were taking a walk. And since my friend’s husband was close to the driveway, they smiled and waved. He smiled and waved back. And they asked him
“Have you seen the turtle yet?”
What can I say? I’ve never seen him. There was no evidence that he’d been around recently. At all. Except, perhaps, they thought he lived under the wood. And only came out about once a year. Which is, research has proven, very typical of the Federally-protected Desert Tortoise.
That is, until This Girl unwittingly had its home brought down upon it. Never to be seen again. Imagine my angst and horror at learning what I’d possibly been responsible for. But, no. It couldn’t be. Because we never saw a trace of the turtle. Not a clue, not a claw, not a foot, not a paw. No residue or tracks or meal scraps or anything.
It’s a safe bet that the turtle had already left the confines of the property, months before I even knew the house existed. After all, there were caretakers and realtors and property people who took care of everything long before I got here.
And if they knew about the cat bones, surely they’d also know about the Federally-protected Desert Tortoise and remove it to a safer location for its own good.
Surely, I can’t be, what my daughter has often called out, a Turtle Murderer.
I prefer to ignore that supposition, and to believe instead, in the lack of other evidence, that he is somewhere else. Healthy. Happy. And
Lucky.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 12, 2012 |
[This post is inspired by Ann at Doodles and Jots. I just love her amazing nature photography!]
Since Dot and I walked the mile to my Mom’s house today, I thought I’d also work on my photography skills at the same time.
Dot’s much more creative than I am, but I’m happy with what I’ve captured. I guess I thought the walk would be just asphalt and stop signs. But with a lens in my hand, I saw much more.
As we left our own yard, I was so excited to see my Eggplant start to revive and even flourish. This picture’s a little blurry, but you can see new buds in the middle. In a month or so, I hope to have a harvest of eggplants!
Here’s another view, more flower buds. And they’re really developing. What great Ratatouille I’ll make!
This is a view of just a few of the buds on my Green Bell Pepper plant. I love Green Bell Pepper. I use it in my Ratatouille, on pizza, in salad. I can’t wait for this harvest, either!
Here’s the sole flower that’s thriving in my front window flower bed. As you can see from the background, others are trying hard. There are a few blooms almost ready to pop open. Maybe tomorrow…
This is the first shrub I really liked on our walk. It’s a typical desert weedy wildlife, but I love the bright yellow flowers on it.
Only in the desert could dry weeds grow around a fire hydrant.
And now my artistic attempt with the same object. Which photo do you like better?
I tried to capture the Moon in the clear blue sky.
I’m not sure what this plant/shrub is, but I’m glad it’s not in my yard. It’s beautiful to look at, but my allergies would prob’ly give me no rest.
This fallen Joshua Tree was laying in a vacant lot. It was at one time very big with many branches, but the rains last year were more than it could take. It collapsed upon itself and ever since I’ve been watching birds flit in and out when I drive by.
Pampas Grass. I love this. I might put several of these on my property line next year. They remind me of the Cattail plants back in Michigan. And I love the long, flowing grass. 
I don’t know why, but this power line really got my attention. I like the “HIGH VOLTAGE” sign.
This line of three stumps on the side of the road is all that remains of overgrown trees.
It was a great walk. I plan to do it again soon, with a new perspective.
What’s your favorite photo?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 11, 2012
You remember the random post from last November when a bird wouldn’t let my daughter back into the house? I finally found out what kind of bird that was!
It’s called a Dark-Eyed Junco. And I found it while spending a couple hours online looking at bird photos and information.
You’ll recall my dismay joy at the fox my Mom saw in her yard? And a few days later a new hawk started hanging around? Let me be clear: my mother does not live on a farm. Our homes are exactly one mile from each other. We have the same floor plan. We have similar decorating styles (ok, not so much, but we do share decor now and then).
So I keep harassing asking her how she’s so lucky to have all this wildlife and I’m not. There’s one big reason: three lots in her neighborhood are still undeveloped. My entire street has a house on each plot.
It makes sense that God’s creatures would enjoy dirt burrows, trees, even tumbleweeds. There’s not a lot of stealth options in my chain-linked yard. So the fox, the hawks, the quail, and yes, even the bobcat are more welcome at her house than mine.
Until today.
Big smile on my face!
Today was the first really nice-weather day we’ve had all year. (I know, I know… it’s only mid-February. But seriously, folks. This is the desert!) After our morning coffee together, I left Mom’s house and spent an hour in my own yard before I even went inside. I weeded. I hula-hoed. I picked up rocks and old boards that were in place long before I moved in. I unburied the fence edge. I outlined the new flower garden site. I tested sprinklers. I ran sprinklers.
Our neighborhood birds know when they’re getting fed. They didn’t care that I was working on beautifying my yard. I was invading their space. And they were hungry. And they kept telling me so.
So when all the work was done, I fed the birds. [Note to self: stop singing the Mary Poppins song every time you write “Feed The Birds”.]
Mixed seed in the right feeder. Sunflower seeds in the middle. And peanuts in the left. Scrub Jays love peanuts. Cactus Wrens, as it turns out, do too. I sat on my loveseat in front of the large picture window and took in the show.
Two large Crows courted from the high wires. They flew together, landed together, and I watched as they pecked each other’s beak constantly. It wasn’t a battle; it almost appeared as if they were kissing, or perhaps one was just showing the other how to feed the kids a good meal.
The Cactus Wren nest in the Joshua Tree stumps to the right of the feeder tree. Once the sparrows and red finches spilled enough seed on the ground, the Wrens scurried out and took claim. It was comical to see them wait until the Scrub Jays flew away with one or two peanuts in their mouths. During that absence, the Cactus Wrens found remnants under the tree and quickly retreated back to the Joshua Tree.
The Scrub Jays returned often, squawking their ownership of the peanuts. They left quite a few in the feeder, but at first they worked very enthusiastically to hide them for later treasures. What they didn’t count on, was hiding them in the Cactus Wrens’ territory. Bite! the Scrub Jays flew with their snack. Scurry! they landed at the base of the Joshua Tree. Slip! they tried to bury it under the spiked leaves. Then they’d disappear with another peanut to the backyard. The Cactus Wrens are smart. They learned the pattern. And as soon as the Jays flew to the back, the Wrens kidnapped the peanuts and put them in a different place around the tree base, or even in the winter’s dead growth of the lilac shrubs. Time and again, the Jays returned only to squawk loudly in a failed attempt to reclaim their stores. The Cactus Wrens never flinched. So the Jays began to find other hiding spots.
During this dance, I became aware of two more Crows coming into the trees. Into the trees! That’s fairly unheard of. These large black birds generally hop on the ground or sit on power lines. I’ve never seen one in a tree, especially when that tree is being populated by little birds like people to a New York Deli at lunch hour.
The Crows flew back and forth. After a third round above the yard, a new bird entered. I cannot explain to you what it felt like to see this incredibly huge bird, to hear its wings, to know it was previously unknown to my yard. I saw it land in the corner trees.
All I could think about was calling my mom and telling her I had a new bird. But she’d ask me what it was. And I didn’t have a clue.
So I did the only thing I could: I put on my fuzzy slippers and took my cell phone out into the yard. I wasn’t in a rush, but I also wasn’t stealthy. I wasn’t sure what I’d see, and I was excited-nervous-wowed.
About ten feet past the Joshua Tree stands a Fruitless Mulberry in the corner of my yard. On the neighbor’s adjoining corner is a very large, very tall Pine tree. I walked past the spikey Joshua Tree (and almost impaled myself by not paying attention!). I walked under the bare branches of the Mulberry. And I peered into the Pine branches.
There it was. This most magnificent, incredibly large bird: slate blue-grey on the back, creamy but orange-y on the belly. And the most piercing, dramatic incredibly red eyes. I tried to take a picture but it flew to another tree farther away. Just then I realized its partner was in the second tree. It just looked at me with those eyes. I was so appreciative of the bright sun that prevented this from turning into a horror movie. They were those kinds of deep red eyes.
My mom’s phone was busy so I quickly drove over to look at her bird reference books. There were several options and none seemed to fit perfectly. So I came home and that’s when I spent hours online looking at bird photos and websites.
AllAboutBirds.org is a great website but I’ve learned nothing beats typing in keywords into Google and searching photos. Once I see a close call, I verify.
My beautiful blue-yellow red-eyed monster is a simple Cooper’s Hawk. But there was nothing simple when I stood under it’s 15-inch majesty, or when it stared at me with its horror-movie eyes. I have never been that close to a bird that big. I was enthralled.
As I write this late Friday night, I can still hear the Scrub Jays claiming more peanuts for their morning fiesta.
And I can’t wait for them all to come back. Maybe they’ll even pose for a picture.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
