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Many of the people in our neighborhood are becoming first time parents. Our next-door neighbors, Gary and Liesel had a baby boy just before Christmas. They own a duplex, and rent the downstairs to a French couple named Toni and Laurent, who had their first son in late June.
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Letters home: On the road
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We drove up to Sacramento to spend Thanksgiving with my in-laws. Every time we return from up north we follow a long-standing tradition of taking Highway 1 along the coast, and staying overnight in Big Sur, at a little place called the Fernwood Resort. If you’ve never been to Big Sur, I hope some day you’ll make it there, because it’s one of the most amazingly beautiful places on the planet.
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Letters home: Mr. Sparkle
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Dude,
I’ve been meaning to tell you about one of the many great gifts I got for my 50th birthday back in March. My niece Leah gave me a gift certificate to a place called Brite Smile. (Which, from now on I’ll refer to as B. S., just to save time).
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Letters home: Getting the message
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Do you ever get the feeling that the universe is trying to send you messages? I do, and pretty often at that.
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When I moved from New York into our house in Los Angeles, I became a
step-dad to two cats: a boy named Chadwick, and a girl named Katrina.
(Yeah, like the hurricane).
Being that I’m allergic to felines, it was decided that we’d all live
more comfortably if they stayed outside. After all, this is southern
California. When it’s sunny (which is most of the time) they could work
on their tans. And to get through the rare chilly evenings, they’d
brought their own fancy fur coats.
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Letters home: Old dog, new trick
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I was admiring the row of dirt bikes lined up against the back fence
when Alex asked me if I wanted to ride one. Having never driven a
motorcycle, I told him I’d pass. He found that hard to believe, and
told me that it was easy. Then he started shaming me into giving it a
try. After all, according to him, he’s just a kid, and if he can do it,
anybody can.
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