Stan Silver

Stan and Silver arrive in Taos, driving over the mountains from Grand Junction. They stay at the Taos Inn (No children allowed) which they show us this morning, pictured. The Inn made of of several adobe houses dating to the 1800's which, then, surrounded a small plaza (now the entrance lobby). In the 1890s, Dr Thomas Paul Martin arrived as the county's first - and only - physician and bought the largest of the houses. Martin's wife, Helen, a gifted batik artist and the sister-in-law of artist Bert Phillips, one of the "Taos Founders" - it was in the Martin's dining room in 1912 that Phillips and Ernest Blumenschein founded the Taos Society of Artists.

The Martins went on to purchase additional buildings surrounding the plaza, renting to writers and artists including Pawnee Bill and, famously, D. H. Lawrence who lived here for a year working on "The Boy in the Bush" which he completed in '24 ("Chatterley" was '28). When the hotel burned in '36, the same year Martin died, Helen bought the sole remaining property, Tarleton house, and founded the Hotel Martin which was social, intellectual and artistic hub. Greta Garbo came here. Later owners renamed it the Taos Inn; in '82, the Inn was placed on the National and State Registers of Historic Places.

Stan tells me that most recently the Inn owned for 20 years by Dennis Hopper, who bought the place shortly after Easy Rider. He and Jack and Peter and their crew must have partied their asses off - the perfect place for debauchery - away from prying eyes.

Hee Haw!

Bill and ranch means one thing for the kids: horses. Misty (the youngest and Praline's daughter), Nugget (oldest "and sort of the boss" (Eitan)); Honey (yellow-golden) and Praline (she, just like Misty, has a white stripe going down her snout - pictured). Missing is Buckwheat, who was a cross between Nugget and Honey, with the same colour fur as Honey and a black main like Nugget (Eitan informs me). Nugget and Praline are ridable while Misty and Honey are too young with Bill "working them in." Martine takes each little cowboy for 45 minute rides up to and along the wall (she saw a mountain lion several months ago, and this morning - bear tracks!) in the evening and again, before breakfast. It is a lot of work, too, with saddling the horses. They are strong, beautiful animals whose line bread for the quarter-mile; they are excellent ranch horses as well, with sure footing and even temperament. Gentle souls. Bill is a real cow-hand who is able to break in the new animals, which requires patience and know-how. Every autumn he goes on a 100-mile ride into the Rockies, though this year may be more difficult after injuring, or even breaking, several ribs in a fall (Martine, with black toe-nails: "and that is why you wear cowboy boots"). The horses weight about 1,000 pounds. Fortunaly Bill tossed onto a soft, dirt ground - if the outback, "it would have been serious" Martine says.

Charlie's At La Veta

Madeleine finds herself in a familiar spot as we arrive in La Veta. We are here for one night before pushing on to Taos where we will see Stan and Silver. Martine takes the kids out for horse rides in the evening and morning, God bless. They are different little dudes away from the concrete and high-expectations of London.

Sonnet has been following an intense training routine, gifted her by our uber-athlete Edwin. One day easy, the next repeats or a timed run. All done in the early morning hours to avoid the heat, which has been around 90-degrees since arriving in CO. Unfortunately the altitude has played havoc - I join her and we shuffle five miles outside La Veta or 6,187 feet. My parent's cabin- house around 5,000 feet while I write from Taos or 6,969 feet. Sonnet's half-marathon in late September and she hopes the suffering will pay off at sea-level. Here is the science any way: at altitude, the body adapts to the relative lack of oxygen hypoxia in one or more ways like increasing the mass of red blood cells and hemoglobin, or altering muscle metabolism. Proponents clamim that when the athletes travel to competitions at lower altitudes they will still have a higher concentration of red blood cells for 10-14 days, and this gives them a competitive advantage. some athletes liver permanently at high altitude, only returning to to sea level to compete, but their training may suffer due to less available oxygen for workouts (sources: Formenti, Federico, et al, (June 2010); Wehrlin, Zuest and Marti (June 2006); and Gore, Clark and Suanders (September 2007))

Sonnet: “How about a 12-mile hike when we are in Santa Fe?”

Madeleine: “No way!”

Me: “Sounds excellent.”

Madeleine: “I could barely do six miles!”

Me: “Well now you will do twelve.”

Madeleine: “This is some vacation.”

Spanish Peak West With Moon, #4

This beautiful mountain is one of the Spanish Peaks, which we have seen before and I think one of the most beautiful spots I have known. The peaks are a pair of volcanic mountains located in southwestern Huerfano County and behind Bill and Martine's ranch. The two peaks, West Spanish Peak and East Spanish Peak, are easternmost outliers of the otherwise non-volcanic Culebra Range of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Formed by a massive igneous intrusion during the tertiary period, the mountains designated a National Natural Landmark in 1976 as one of the best known examples of igneous dikes. Geologists come from around the world study the unique wall-formations which frame the mountain; photographers set up on Martine's property to take photographs "every three minutes at sunrise and sunset" she tells me and it is easy to understand why: the mountain's personality changes with the light and cloud movement.

The peaks were an important landmark on the Santa Fe Trail, and can be seen as far north as Colorado Springs 133 miles away, and as far west a Alamosa (85 miles) points south to Raton New Mexico (66 miles) and points east of Trinidad (up to 15). I first spy my friends on the highway an hour outside of La Veta driving 75 mph (CO speed limit, dude) and, at first, dismiss them for being misplaced in my memory. We track them all the way in.

Self Portrait XVIII

I pack up the SUV and we are off to La Veta. As with the majority of families across this great country of ours, I drive. The car may be the last bastion of the 1950s male. Here we are, the American Dad, behind the wheel with our aviator sunglasses, in complete control of the family and by extension - everything else. No doubt the children fight in the back and I swing away; we get lost which causes the only serious arguments in my relationship with my wife; we stop at family restaurants and sit in booths and eat hamburgers and french fries. A vacationing family with two attractive teen-agers sit next to us at the car rental and I note to the father that we are a few years behind them; he eyes me up and sagely replies: “Expect the unexpected.” The teens stair at me blankly. Can't wait for the next five years.

Denver to La Veta is due south and a pleasant drive through open space. We pass through Pueblo, Fort Garland (Air Force academy there) and Colorado Springs where we pull off the highway for lunch at Chilli's (ghastly) and I run across the street to a 7-11 to use the pay-phone to call Astorg Partners. I learn that there are very few public telephones left while mobile to Europe stupidly expensive. 7-11 is a vision of hell. A woman waits for a call and smokes away - two-feet from me. Another, not unattractive, pulls in to buy fags and fill her brown Dodge with gas. There is a video rental machine next to me. Scruffy children buy candy that would make mine cry if they were here. Nasty. The other thing about CS, and I think most sprawling cities, is how difficult it is to walk. Crossing the town's main street, which is more like a highway, takes patience and care – these driving bastards will hit you. There is a narrow, unused, crosswalk and, to somebody's credit, I find a pedestrian light. I wait five minutes for 20 seconds which is barely enough time to cross five lanes. After Chilli's we complete this American moment at Baskin Robbin's 31-wonderful flavors. Gotta roll with it.

Eitan examines a box of Russell Stover chocolates: “Oh, I need to eat this.”

First Day, First Grade

Tess has her first day of school and there are some emotional moments around the table. Tess is mostly oblivious to the excitement while Thia makes sure she remains firmly in the picture. A pattern to be followed forever, no doubt. Later on we discuss Eitan and Madeleine's reception year – both ready thanks to day-care, where Eitan spent the majority of his day .. from ten-months (I still recall his carer, Ingrid, an large Jamaican who scooped the boy up in her enormous loving arms.. he knew a good thing while Sonnet and I felt mildly guilty about the whole thing). Madeleine the risk-taker back then and first day butterflies? No problemo. She could hardly get away.

Many US public schools now begin the fall term in mid-August. What's up with that? School hours also seem to be longer with the day ending at 4PM. The American summer a cultural occurrence, unifying generations of families and a God Given Right for any youngster lucky enough to grow up in the US of A. Who wasn't bored out of his mind by Labor Day? From my generation, it was not unusual for both parents to work so kids were left with .. a lot of freedom. Combine that with the suburbs and pot, well, a lot of good memories there, for sure. For me, this meant walks across the UC campus to Telegraph Avenue to buy comic books or vinyl records followed by Blondie's pizza or frozen yogurt (the first fro-yo in America, my sister tells me). Eventually swimming soaked up the free time while MTV took the rest. My pals and I in Walnut Creek did nothing between morning and afternoon practice - it was fab-u-lous. Sonnet and Marcus's solution was summer camp: Trojan Ranch and Prairie Mansfield in Colorado. These long breaks a far cry from England where the annual holiday time might be about the same – 12 weeks or so – but spread across the year. Each good in its own way.

Me: “Are you guys missing anything from school?”

Madeleine: “Art?”

Me: “Anything else.”

Madeleine: “Not really.”

Me: “How about you Eitan?”

Eitan: “Friends, literacy and maths.”

Me: “Are you nervous about your new teacher?”

Madeleine: “Yes.”

Me: “Why?”

Madeleine: “Because sometimes she is a bit strict.”

Me: “Like what does she do?”

Madeleine: “I don't know. They just said that.”

Thia

Denver Museum - Libeskind

Thia and Tess, King Tut

We are with Beecher, Whitney and Frank from yesterday and here the kids take a break for this photo. Tess starts first-grade tomorrow. These kids grow up, I will sure say.

Today we are at the Denver Museum to see the Tutankhamun exhibition, which is the largest collection of its kind assembled outside of Egypt (I have a hard time removing the Steve Martin song "King Tut" from my mind BTW -classic). Since its discovery by Brit Howard Cotter in 1922, the cause of Tut's death has been debated: was the Boy King assassinated at 19? A CT scan taken in 2005 proves otherwise (and robs us of our mystery): Tut had badly broke his leg and it became infected. DNA analysis, conducted in 2010, showed he had malaria - these two conditions, combined, led to his death.

SFO To CO - Fallen Tree

The kids have been good travel companions excluding those moments when, Sonnet points out, "they about to kill each other." This is a far cry better than their earlier life when an air plane meant only one thing: screaming. Loudly. Non-stop. We reminiscence about the time Eitan nine-months and we flew to Florida for my Grandmother's 90th - the boy good from London to Washington but inconsolable from Dulles to Sarasota. We received a number of dirty looks on that one, oh boy. Now they quietly sit in their seats drawing with crayons or, more likely, plugged into the entertainment unit watching whatever catches their fancy and Sonnet allows - from London to SFO, ten hours, uninterrupted. No wonder long-haul means something different to them.

Meanwhile in London we learn the shocking news that water and wind have tumbled our beloved ancient pine tree. Fortunately it occurred around 6AM so nobody about and it missed the house. Aggie, who is house-sitting, is helping us sort the mess - she reports that we "will now get more sunshine in the backyard." I am feeling sad about this - that old, dignified, tree was one of my favorite things about our home.

Le Cat

Madeleine loves "Sweetie Pie" who is a curious and friendly soul and puts up with a lot. Madeleine, as we all know, has been on a two year campaign for a dog and when we return to London, she will be rewarded with .. a cat (two working parents and a dog don't quite foot, we have decided). From this morning we are saying good-bye to Grace and Moe and the Bay Area until the next time. Everybody feeling glum but soon we will be in Colorado for the second part of our touring road show.

Altamount Pass

The future is here. I hang my ass out the window to take this photo of the wind turbines at Altamount Pass just beyond Livermore on HW580. We are about one hour from San Francisco having just come through the valley. No wonder the turbines here, too - the wind gusty (wind speeds are up to 8 meters per second) and sounds like a growling animal. The turbines form scattered lines on the ridgeway across an area of about 15 kilometers in diameter. Hundreds are visible from the road. A quick Internet troll notes that there are over four-thousand of these babies, making this the world's largest wind farm by number of turbines. There are at least seven varieties visible, including one type that is vertical like an egg-beater. There are no paved roads leading to them either and the wind, anyway, is too strong for a leisurely walk. A small parking area is located at the top of the pass (about 1,000 feet altitude) for trucks and us to check our breaks before the steep decent. We have been here before -emergency poddy stop.

The turbines in my photo are the larger type with blades - and I am guessing here - five-meters in length. The towers must be 25 meters in height or higher. 100% of the windmills in action as we pass while usually only a batch in play depending on the wind direction, force and etc. I have watched these things go up since the mid-1980s. Pretty cool.

We have a discussion at the French Hotel about whether smoking should be a choice.

Me: "What if I told you that you could not have that piece of cake you are eating?"

Madeleine: "That would not be fair!"

Me: "What if I told you that piece of cake was going to cause you to die a slow and awful death?"

Madeleine: "Well, I guess that would be fair."

Me: "Would you still eat it?"

Madeleine: "Probably not."

Eitan: "I would not."

Me: "Why do you think people smoke?"

Eitan: "Well, mostly because they become addicted. When they are a teen-ager."

Madeleine: "They smoke even though their parents say no."

Me: "Good going. Have we learned anything?"

Madeleine: "We can eat cake?"

Lake Alpine Sunrise #8

One departing shot of Lake Alpine whom I have known since '84.

We leave the Sierras yesterday, crossing the San Joaquin Valley which, historian Kevin Starr notes, is "the most productive unnatural environment on Earth." The SJV is also known as "The food basket of the world" or "The nation's salad bowl" producing oranges, peaches, garlic, tangerines, tomato's, kiwis, hay, nuts, grapes, tangerines and about any crop imagined. The J. G. Boswell Company's farming operation in Kings County is the largest single cotton farm in the world, occupying over 40,000 acres. Go figure. The major river supplying the valley is the San Joaquin, with tributaries of the lower Stanislaus, Tuolumne, Merced, and Fresno rivers. The California Aqueduct extends the entire length of the bioregion. The southern portion of the bioregion includes the Kings, Kaweah, and Kern rivers, which drain into closed interior basins. No significant rivers or creeks drain into the valley from the Coast Range. We pass through it all, stopping, as we always do, in Farmington to fill the tank, load up on junk food, and take a leak.

Remarkably, the San Joaquin Valley has the state's highest rate of food insecurity according to California.

SloanKlein Advisors

Sloan, meanwhile, has started her next business, www.sloanklein.com, advising seasoned professionals on their career development. In less than two years she has 22 clients. She is one of those people who attracts success - from idea to implementation - she makes it easy. Of course it never is which is one reason she is way special.

2505 Shashone Drive

We re-union with Rob and Sloan, Sophie and Jaimes plus one new addition to the family: Ozzy, who receives some considerable attention from Madeleine who is 'dog mad' (Ozzy is a "golden doodle" which is a mix between a Golden Retriever and a Poodle). Sadly missing are Amado and Mary and their clan, who have moved to Seattle while Mary starts her new posting as Head of Strategy for Starbucks. This is a Big Ticket job and none of us are surprised though of course we are keenly interested to know how things are going six weeks into her tenure (full disclosure: Sonnet and I go to Peet's in Berkeley, one of my favorite places). I am buying stock in the company.

Me: "Why do you think people get married any way?"

Eitan: "Money?"

Sonnet: "Is that what you really think?"

Eitan: "Well, why else?"

Sonnet:

Me: "There must be other reasons ... "

Eitan: "Power?"

Sonnet:

Eitan: "Well, look at Henry VIII. He married for money and power."

Me: "Good point."

Sonnet: !

Canoe

Shades

Kids snapping at each other. Patience in limited supply. Yep, we are well into the holiday. Yesterday sees us at the lake where we have lunch, pictured -- Madeleine has her quotient of 'burgers' or one a day (at least). We are blessed with blue skies and perfect alpine temperatures allowing us to keep the windows open throughout the night. I tap away at some work, sometimes stressful work since I am away from my office, but it is hard to beat the scenery. How nice to be away from all that concrete, if only for a brief while.

Boy And Tree

Madeleine: “What do you want to talk about?”

Me: “Well, that is a nice idea. How about cats?”

Madeleine lights up: “Ok.”

(We have promised Madeleine a cat when we return to London. She has been on a pet campaign for some long time now.)

Me: “Why do you want a cat anyway?”

Madeleine: “Well, it is because I love animals. And I want a bigger pet. And one that is not nocturnal.”

Me: “Do you have any names in mind?”

Madeleine: “Eitan has already come up with a nick-name. His nick-name for the cat is 'dog.'”

Me: “Dog?”

Madeleine: “Yes, get it dad?”

Me: “That is going to be one confused cat.”

Madeleine: “You just don't understand pets that's all.”

Me:

Ze Family

Here we are this morning, shortly before Gracie and Moe return to the Bay Area (we stay through the week end and will see the gang tomorrow). Katie is sadly missing for the picture as she return to New Yawk on Sunday.

More dinner table discussions about work.

Sonnet: “How many years of education do you think Moe and Grace needed to do what they do?”

Madeleine: “Including reception?”

Me: “Including reception.”

Madeleine: “For Gracie, 25 years.”

Eitan: “For Moe, 25 years and for Gracie, 15.”

Madeleine: “What? Only 15? They call Gracie 'The Big Cheese!' (Grace was the Executive Director of The Link To Children, a non-profit that she founded to provide early childhood mental health; she is now Clinical Director).

Grace: “25.”

Madeleine: “See! I knew it!”

Grace: “I was unusual since I was working so spread my PhD over several years."

Moe: “I went straight through to Law School, so 20."

Sonnet: “I would like to bring home the point: you have a lot of studying ahead of you.”

Eitan, Madeleine:

Sonnet: “A lot of work but it can be a lot of fun.”

Lake Alpine West #5

At the dinner table.

Sonnet: “You were a ping pong champion?”

Moe: “Seventh grade.”

Sonnet: “Moe grew up in St. Louis. In Missouri.”

Moe: “I beat Jimmy Chervitz. I beat him in his home, which was unusual. He was more experienced then me. We had some tough matches but I won two out of three. We then went to the principal and informed him that we had played at home. The principal said we had to play at school, during lunch time. So we did it again. And I beat him. Seventh grade champion. Then I got to play the 8th grade champion – Bob Allen. And he beat me, it was humiliating. All his friends were cheering. Bob Allen then played the 9th grade champion Ronald Scher in the school auditorium in front of the whole school. Ronald Scher was a nationally ranked ping pong player who just toyed with Bob then killed him. I was thrilled.”

We discuss what adults do at work.

Eitan: “Well, first they wake up at 7AM to get ready. They are grumpy and drink a lot of coffee, which they take with them to work”

Madeleine: “Do they play video games like in (TV program) The Office?”

Me:

Sonnet: “What do you think I do?

Madleine: “Play video games?”

Sonnet:

Madeleine: “Work on your computer and stuff?”

Sonnet: “Close enough.”

Eitan: “Computers are not innocent, you know. People can get killed on them.”

Madeleine: “No they don't.”

Eitan, matter-of-factly: “Yes they do. Like that time on Facebook when a teenager met somebody who said he was a teen-ager then killed her.”

Madeleine: “Is that true? Why would he want to kill a teenager?” (We have been discussing the Internet and never to communicate with somebody who approaches you or you do not know)

Lake Alpine Sunrise #2

Madeleine and I agree to rise early and take photographs at Lake Alpine. The alarm goes off at 5:20AM and I force the poor kid from her deep slumber. She clutches doggie but pulls herself together and we race up the highway as the dawn stretches before us, rewarded by the most spectacular morning – pictured. Madeleine shivers - “can we go yet?” but I give her a hug and thank her for joining me – I hope she remembers this. Sometimes it is nice to be reminded where we really are in this cosmos. Afterwards I gas up at Camp Connell – it is 7AM – and a greybeard sits at the counter drinking black coffee. We nod at each other while I pay for Madeleine's hot chocolate. “Good to be alive,” we agree.

Madeleine: "Dad, how long did it take you to learn to fast type?"

Me: "It took a while."

Madeleine: “How long?”

Me: “I don't know. I took a class in high school.”

Madeleine: “Yeah, but you only went for one day.”

Me:

Madeleine: “You didn't go back because of that girl!”

Me:

Madeleine: “The one that lost all her back teeth.”

Me: !

(Madeleine correctly recalls the story but it was sixth grade and I dropped computer sciences at Lawrence Hall of Science, too scared to join the class 15 minutes late because of my crush on Erin O'Leah who, indeed, had no back teeth.)

The Road

The distance between our cabin and Lake Alpine is 20 miles on Route 4 (pictured behind Eitan) and uphill, ascending from 5,000 to 7,300. For the last twenty years I have contemplated the challenge, the last time being 1995. That year I got as far as Bear Valley or 17 miles. Sonnet was meant to supply water around two-hours into the run but, famously, she mis-understood my signal to pull-over as “A-OK” and drove right past. Dehydrated and half-dead I pulled into the Bear Valley Lodge and begged somebody to drive me the last three miles to the lake. Oh, boy. So yesterday I take a stab at the distance departing at 2:30PM with a liter of water and high hopes. Even following last year's dreadful marathons, I have always assumed that my determination supercedes my body's abilities and, while I am no longer 23, the adjustment made with a slower pace. Chuck that one out the door. I made it to 12.5 miles and thankfully, without a plan, Sonnet back-tracks to pick me up. So, defeated again, I am grateful for the lift. We drive the rest of the way and I reward myself with a skinny dip.

Madeleine, aghast: “Dad! You are naked!”

Me: “Well, nobody can see.”

Madeleine: “That is so disgusting.”

Me: “Sweetheart, what I have learned is that the more you age the less concerned you are about showing it.”

Madeleine: “So you must be naked all of the time.”

Joy!

Eitan (10AM): "Can I have a piece of cake?"

Sonnet: "No! You can't have a piece before lunch."

Eitan: "Dad – can I?"

Me: "Go for it."

Sonnet:

Me: "Vacation rules."

Sonnet rolls her eyes disapprovingly.

Me: "The thing is, you are going to feel awful afterwards."

Eitan: "It is worth it."

Madeleine sees Eitan: "Can I have a piece of cake too?"

Me: "No."

Madeleine: "Why can Eitan have a piece of cake and I can't?"

Me: "That is just the way it is kid."

Madeleine helps herself looking me in the eye, shaking her head: "Oh, dad."

Hills

Sonnet sets the example for us all – here she is running 11 miles at altitude. While Sonnet sticks to her schedule, Katie and I hike the same trail with the kids which begins at Bear Valley and continues to Lake Alpine or about three miles out and the same back. It is a beautiful day in the mountains with blue skies and warm alpine temperatures. The exposed groves covered with alpine flowers. The kids happy to be unbathed and we oblige them: each covered with a layer of dirt (this against every grain in Sonnet's body). I reason that they swim at the rec center so the chlorine strips away the worst of it. Moe keeps busy with cabin chores while my mother adjusts to her new knee – she uses a walker and determined to get on with it. My parents are now grandparents and how I remember Dorothy and George.

Hammock

Over dinner, we have a conversation about the value of money.

Katie: “How much do you think your house cost?"

Eitan, matter-of-factly: “About two thousand pounds”

Madeleine: “That guy (Richard, who sold us the house) said it is fifty pounds. But that is just a lie.”

Me:

Madeleine: “Natasha showed us a house as big as Eitan's foosball table and it was between £4,000 and £5,000.”

Eitan: “No it is not.”

Madeleine: “It is. You just did not see it in the newspaper!”

Me:

At the rec club.

Madeleine: “Give me ten dollars.”

Sonnet: “Try again.”

Madeleine: “Give me ten dollars now.”
Sonnet: “Assuming you change your manners and I give you ten dollars, what are you going to do with that money?”

Madeleine: “I don't know. That is why I'm going the snack bar.”

Eitan: “I want some nachos and chocolate.”

Madeleine: “I am going to get a slushie. Or some skittles.”

Me: “You eat that stuff?”

Madeleine: “Dad! We're kids. Of course we do.”

Rec Center

Eitan comes back from the snack bar.

Me: “What did you get?”

Eitan: “A 'Choco-Taco.'”

Me: “What's that?”

Eitan: “Um, dad, it's a chocolate taco.”

Me:

Eitan: “I love the creamy chocolaty bit. Every one is in the mood for it.”

Me: “If you're a kid....”

Eitan fondles his 'Choco-Taco,' takes bite, rolls eyes back into head.

Sonnet gets the kids a “mix-pack” of various cereals.

Me: "What's your favorite?"

Madeleine: "Frosted Flakes and Fruity Loops ."

Me: "Do you eat those first?"

Madeleine: "I save the best for last. And by the way they're not my favorite cereal."

Me: "What is your favorite cereal?"

Madeleine ponders this for a moment.

Eitan: "Cocoa Rocks? Sugar Pops? Captain Crunch?"

Me: "What's yours?"

Eitan: "Cookie Crisp which are chocolate chip cookies."

Me: "Your mother lets you eat those?"

Eitan. "No, you do."

Me: "Really? Like, when?"

Eitan: "When we were in Cuchara."

South Grove

Katie, despite her knee surgery last week, is trooper on our six mile hike of the South Grove. Here they are next to an old friend.

At the dinner table.

Madeleine: “I hate being the youngest in the family.”

Sonnet: “You're not - Tommy is the youngest."

Madeleine: “Wait, listen to me. Tommy is, like, a teenager because hamsters only live to three-years old.”

Sonnet: “Touchee.”

Madeleine: “What does that mean?”

Sonnet: “You scored a point.”

Old Agassiz

We hike the South Grove and see the largest tree in the world: the Louis Agassiz tree which is "only" 250 tall, but it is over 25 feet in diameter six feet above the ground (my picture of a more humble brethren). Looking upwards, it is easy to compare the tree to an oil tanker or skyscraper. Sierra redwood trees are the largest trees in the world with many here between 250 and 300 feet tall and the tallest about 325 feet high. While their height is impressive, the real wonder of a sierra redwood lies in its bulk: many of these giants have diameters in excess of 30 feet near the ground, with a corresponding circumference of over 94 feet.

I learn that most trees have their diameter measured at breast height, which is about four feet above the ground on the uphill side of the tree (the redwood grove is on a steep incline). Sierra redwoods, however, are measured at six feet above the ground as their is a major circumference increase a the lower end of the tree. this "butt swell" helps the redwood ion a couple ways. It adds stability to the tree, just as a wide stance adds stability to a a football player. Also, it helps deflect falling vegetation from the tree's base. This decreases the chance of the redwood being injured by fire when that debris eventually burns (source: parks.ca.gov).

As for mass, these redwoods weigh in at 4,000 tons and may provide enough wood to build over 40 five-room homes. They are as tall as the Statue of Liberty.

Madeleine: “What's your name?”

Me: “Jeff?”

Madeleine: “What's this?”

Me: “Your nose.”

Madeleine: “What's in my hand?”

Me: “Nothing.”

Madeleine: “Jeff knows nothing.”

Madeleine, sweeping, regards me on the couch: “Dad do you enjoy watching your children work?”

Shashone

We drive to Bear Valley, arriving in time for a trip to the rec center pool. The kids are into their head-phones ('Harry Potter' of course) while Katie and I catch up about her business over flank steak. The Op-Ed project is going great guns and Katie is now working with Stanford and Yale while more institutions are lining up. Katie's editor-mentor program numbers 70 including "14 Noble and Pulitzer prize winners. She is jamming and yak yak yak on the telephone. When not syncing with New York, she gives her full attention to the Shakespeares who adore their "Auntie Katie." A good thing, too, since vacations mean idle time and in our case it is to the point of distraction so, dear reader, I distract: chores. This receives their heartfelt indignation (Madeleine: "Dad! This is a holiday!) but there will be no "lazy lunkers" in our family. Madeleine sweeps the deck from front to back while Eitan does the driveway (I overhear them arguing over who has the better deal). Though they would never admit it, it puts everybody in a better mood.

We discuss chores.

Eitan: “It is so unfair. We kids have to do everything.”

Me: “How is that?”

Eitan: “Well, the adults can swim as much as they like. They do not have to do any work. They can do whatever they want that is not against the law.”

Madeleine: “They can't smash a house.”

Eitan: “Madeleine, that is not a chore.”

Madeleine: “I am just saying, Eitan.”

Me:

Tim CFO

We have breakfast at the Claremont Hotel with Tim, who arrives yesterday in the Bay Area. Tim and Kitty have closed their life in Brooklyn to raise their two children, both under two, in California and around Kitty's friends (she is native to the state). Tim has taken a CFO role with venture-backed company Simbol which is in the renewables space. Simbol has proprietary technologies that strip precious minerals, in particular lithium, from the water produced in geothermal plants in Palm Springs. Tim is in his comfort zone having returned to the energy industry where he began his career at Enron.

From the Claremont, Sonnet and the kids visit Alison, whose wedding to Ivor where Sonnet and I met in 1993. Wow. I am with my friends at Correlation Ventures who had a small closing the other day and contemplating investing their dough while raising more capital. Recall this is a quant driven venture strategy and, as my friend Tony says, should "this jumbo fly" they will kill it (in my humble opinion). The venture industry inefficient when it comes to syndicating deals. Add to this A) 40% of US financings under-subscribed; B) the best companies tend to be in under-subscribed rounds and C) a VC has no idea at the time of investment if his company Google or a dog, well, you have a winner assuming, of course, your strategy exploits. While on venture, my friends at BlueRun sell Slide, founded by PayPal Max Levchin, to Google for $228 million while Industry Ventures in five of the 50 likely IPOs filed with the SEC. A nice week for venture.

From the East Bay, we drive to my parent's house in the mountains. Katie takes the kiddies leaving me and Sonnet to ourselves in the rental SUV. We listen to the SilverSun Pickups along the way as Christian treated us to their concert the night before at the Fox Theatre in Oakland. They are a new top band and we will definitely catch them when they come to London. Brixton, baby.

Eitan Moe

Our jet lag fatigue expressed in various ways: me, stress. Sonnet, exhaustion. The kids: they get wiggy. Last night Christian over for dinner and beforehand we stroll to Cordornices Park to tire out the Shakespeares which, instead, makes them hyper. They finally crash out around 9PM (5AM GMT). Eitan gets up from the table, goes into the den and plonks down asleep. We soon follow.

Grace had a knee replacement last week and recovers in an outpatient ward. She is well taken care of. We visit her and boy, one can really see the surgery. She is in good spirits and seeing the grand kids a blessing. Eitan and Madeleine about the age when I recall Grandma and George -- we visited Columbus, Ohio every summer for a few weeks of swim lessons, fishing and King's Island amusement park. All this before my Grandfather passed away in '76 and Dorothy moved to the top tenth floor of Bay Village in Sarasota, Florida. She was wise, assuming correctly that she would see more of her grandchildren in a gulf climate.

Sonnet and I up at the crack of dawn to run Nimitz Trail, where I have been going since age three through different reflective points of my life: college, First Boston, business school and now London, most recently in May. Life may change but not the fire trail. A Eucalyptus Grove, with its stripped bark and hanging leaves, makes me think of Hallowe'en which is a nice time in the Bay Area since often warm and football season in full swing. Today it is foggy and damp - pea soup - and it takes us a few miles to warm up. Sonnet will run a half-marathon in September and we cruise along doing 8 minute miling at one point. She is fit.

Kate - Madeleine - Diner

Ray

We are seated with Ray, a groovy dude from a by-gone rock-and-roll era which he photographed and critiqued. Ray is a cousin to Jeanine and close friends with Andy Parker, the guitarist for legendary band UFO who gave us "Too Hot To Handle" and the seven-minute opus "Love To Love," which is well visited on YouTube. UFO came together in the early '70s as a transitional group between hard rock and heavy metal and Ray was with them all the way. They rocked. He describes the back stage and hanging out which allowed him to produce intimate work. He was part of the scene. Now, Ray laments, photags allowed three songs to get their shot. And worse, I speculate, the sex and drugs and rock and roll gone with Led Zepplin leaving us with Boyzone and Boyz II Men. What's a writer to do?

"Oh its been too many times, and I can't go back

Night bars, guitars, rundown hotels like shacks

What it mounts up to, I don't want it at all

Lost you, and I want you today."

--Love To Love by UFO

Leon Gets Married

Sonnet and the kids arrive Sunday afternoon and I greet them at SFO, having arrived the day before. I have to hustle across the Bay Bridge as Leon and Sunny's wedding this afternoon at Joaquin Miller Park overlooking the Bay. Here we are at the reception.