Nightglow Window

Another Day In Three Parts

The long days in the trade show aisles have caught up with me as I doze the morning away. A last crust of cough kept me up last night and the NyQuil has me lethargic at 8:00 a.m., unwilling to rise.

But noise from the girls and their sleepover guests finally rousts me as Christy heads out the door, heading to Batiquitos Lagoon for the REI service project. Since Christy was the one who nominated the Batiquitos Lagoon Foundation to receive the REI grant in the first place, it's fitting that she puts in her sweat equity today here at the finish line. The project is to replace the pressure-treated trail border posts (that are leeching chemicals into the surrounding waters) with redwood ones.

I make a raft of frozen waffles for my all-squeal girl jam posse and then we head down to the lagoon to take a look around at 10:00 a.m.

I love the Lagoon. The trail along its northern shore was one of the 30 hikes in my San Diego County hiking guide book. (Click on the link and buy yourself a copy and maybe they'll hire me to write an updated edition.) The lagoon empties out at Ponto, and has just been dredged -- good for the lagoon water circulation, good for the beach, and good for the surf quality.

Anyway, the REI crew are hard at work, including Christy, as they drill holes with a two-person auger. The trail borders are important. A ton of migratory birds nest at the Lagoon and having undisturbed salt marsh is critical. So stay on the trials if you visit.




















An aerial shot of the lagoon.


Portrait Of The Brewmeister

Mike G. is brewing today and invites me over to hang out, watch, and tip a few. He has a great setup on the side of his house and all the tools necessary. He's making a Wit today that's full of honey and coriander. Bees magically appear as the wort begins to boil, but I'm not troubled as I sit back against the fence, sun on my face, and talk.

It's warm today, which I guess is important to the whole beer-brewing process. The sun reflecting off the fence makes it feel much warmer than the 70 degrees it is, and I am about as relaxed as I've been since Maui. We joke about California's harsh winters. Mike and Heather lived in Dallas, Texas and Eden Prairie, Minnesota, so they've seen their share of harsh Januarys.

Heather comes in and out of the house, but my kids stay inside playing, also content. Mike adds the hops and the wheat extract. The fragrance fills the side yard. It takes a few hours to finish this step (the beer won't be ready to drink for three weeks), but there's no rush. For once I feel like I don't have anywhere to go. Christy leaves the service project at around 1:00 p.m. and, soon after, she and Heather duck out to grab some Rubios for lunch. We book our hotels for the Palm Springs Odyssey Of The Mind competition in March and talk and talk.


Mike stirs in the wheat extract as Heather and Reece look on.




Reece take a whiff.


REI Night

One of Christy's coworkers is leaving REI for a "real job" (my words, not his) and we get a babysitter and join a crew of about 25 staffers down at Leucadia Pizza (which for some reason is in Encinitas).

It's a diverse crew -- like it's always been since I worked at the North Park store back in 1990. Young college-aged guys with goatees sit and laugh next to middle-aged, slightly overweight guys in down jackets. It's an interesting mix, with only a certain granola crunchiness as a unifying factor.

Later, just before the carriage turns back to the pumpkin at 10:00 p.m. (the hour when we have to be back home for out 13-year-old babysitter), we stop by Vigilucci's at the end of Tamarack for some dessert.

The beach side parking lot is empty, the few stray clouds moonlit and welcoming, as we walk up the hill toward the restaurant, gold light spilling out of its windows, the sound of surf behind us.