Would you like to go large?

Abandoned!  Ellen and Megan have departed for their first road trip, a northerly loop that takes them through redwoods and along coasts.  Once again, I'm left to entertain a baby all by myself.

A road trip obviously demands a car and, as usual, a "free upgrade" was offered because the car that Ellen had booked was suspiciously unavailable.  As she'd already gone for a slightly larger vehicle to carry all their camping stuff the upgrade was to something rather impressive indeed.  "I've got you a Nissan Armada," the salesman said, and the name should have been a giveaway.

Yes, it is massive, and although Ellen fretted somewhat about the size, a few minutes of driving around laughing at the tiny toy cars around us, basically being queen of the road everywhere she went, may make her return to a VW Golf in Woking challenging.  Golfs are too small to be legally sold in the USA.

We tested out the humongous beast on a trip to Point Reyes, which was as lovely as ever, and a jaunt to Waterworld in Concord.  The people in the front seats actually arrive significantly earlier than the people in the back.  The only downside so far has been a trip to the gas station.  We made sure it was Chevron, of course: cashback!

"Do you have a car where the wheels are the size of a child?  Perfect!"

Uh oh, we've been replaced in a baby's affections...

Temperatures touched the high-30Cs, so what could we do?

Slightly taller than last time.

The perfect place to eat lunch.

A quick stop off at the Point Reyes Visitors' Centre.

Then on to the beach.

Meg cools off.

A training session for two nights under canvas (outside).

Honk if you've got a bigger car!  I can't hear you!!

Downloading Java

I don't like to talk about my charity work, mainly because it involves sitting at Chevron-sponsored tables eating free food and drink.  You have to look smart, clap when Chevron is mentioned, and not drink so much that you embarrass yourself.  Some skill is involved.

Most of these "events" follow the same pattern: silent auction, dinner, live auction, then pledge drive ("let's see if we can make some dreams come true tonight!")  The auction items are always well beyond my $10 weekly pocket money.

So imagine my surprise when, at the Opportunity Junction gala, I won an evening of coffee tasting for me and six guests!  As you may know, I am something of an artisanal barista (at least, I think that's what people are calling me) so I looked forward to drinking copious amounts of the black stuff.  Coffee is the second most traded commodity after oil, so it all fits.

Dave from Epic Coffee arrived this evening with varieties from Brazil, Guatemala, Sumatra and Burundi.  His coffee start-up specialises in microproducers and roasting to order, and he took us through the process of "cupping" to make sure that we picked only the best beans.  It involved grinding, soaking, breaking the crust...it was very technical.  You taste from at least four cups of each to avoid the risk of getting a bad bean.  We had to use words like brightness and acidity, and decide whether the aroma was resinous or fruity.  Milk and sugar were notable by their absence.

All great fun and very educational, and as we were only tasting teaspoonfuls we didn't end up wired on caffeine.  Next time in Starbucks I may forgo my tall half-skinny half-1% extra hot split quad shot latte with whip in favour of a single origin espresso from Burundi.  We'll see where that gets me.

Dave sets up.

Santi's mum Willie and Rachel anticipate.

The intro.

The raw ingredients.

Hannah buries her nose in Guatemala.

Santi in Sumatra.



The double pour, the sign of a pro.

On the left is coffee from some lightly roasted beans, on the right from darker.  Same beans, completely different taste!

Dwight breaks the crust of soaked grounds and inhales.

We were each given three 5oz tins to take home!  Remember what I said about not being wired on caffeine...?

The only commodity you need.

England to Yogurtland

Ellen and Meg arrived today for a month in the Californian sun.  For some reason they chose not to spend the whole time in the paradise of Walnut Creek, so will be taking off on a couple of road trips.  Who's meant to entertain the baby while they're gone?

Today we fulfilled the main reason that they came over: Yogurtland.  Meg has a long history with Yogurtland, but I think three hours after landing might be a record even for her.  It would have been rude of me not to join in, so I sampled the new Hazelnut Latte and Black Sesame Vanilla flavours.  And it's all fat free!  Until you pile it with toppings and syrup.

They wave goodbye for their first roadtrip on Sunday.  Let's hope that Sequoia National Park has recently cleared some trees and opened a frozen yogurt emporium.

Another au pair candidate.

Where does she get it from?

Deja vu.

Modern family

It takes a village to raise a child, something that many families took full advantage of when we all lived together in Berkeley's University Village.  Most people seemed to know which child belonged to which parents, but as to who had responsibility for whom at any one time...that was a little more complicated.

So it was fun and confusing when the Pellegs popped down from Seattle for something of a mini reunion!  A few years ago we were all young and carefree, and now there are babies everywhere.  I need to work out how these things happen.  Anyway, we took the opportunity of the long Memorial Day weekend to see how many parent/child permutations were possible.

Pete and Guy.  They're the same age...sort of.

Young Ayal, who just keeps growing up.

And baby makes three.  Agam appeared a few weeks ago, thanks to Shauli and Anat.

Stack 'em high, sell 'em cheap.

Oh, and we're babysitting Dwight and Santi's mum for the weekend too!

Single variety: everyone in this photo belongs to Dana.

It's never too late to have number four!

Amir demonstrates impeccable delegation, learned from the MBA.

British-Romanian-Venezuelan-Americans.

An army marches on its stomach.

Who's got my baby?

Whose baby have I got?

I made another employment offer to Maya, but there are some kind of child labour laws in this country.  That's probably what's holding the economy back.

But who is the cutest?  As if I even have to ask.  (Answer: whoever is not crying at that moment).

Meanwhile, in New Zealand...they obviously do families differently down there.

Bouncing baby boy

At a recent Chevron fundraiser, in the silent auction, there was a hamper of baby stuff.  "I have to have it!" said Hannah, with her usual new-mother-MBA-graduate aggression.  So we got it.  Included in there, along with a voucher and some organic nappy cream, was a baby bouncer.  Not the type that the baby happily reclines in, no.  The type you attach to the ceiling and dangle your cherub from, like a torture device.

Pete is now four months old, but we've been told with premies you have to always calculate their "adjusted" age, from his original due date.  So he's two months old, but we believe things like medical expertise of doctors shouldn't hold him back.  He's not exactly holding his own head up, although his rolls of fat form a natural neck brace, but what better way to encourage development than bouncing him up and down for a few hours every day?

Assembly of the device was reasonably straightforward, and we found a suitable lintel to clamp the contraption to.  Then the baby was fitted and we waited for him to...do stuff.  That stuff turned out to be looking confused, although not screaming, but Mummy was soon on hand to encourage him by doing the bouncing for him.  This is how it starts - next she'll be writing his school essays.

Helps baby reach 3 developmental milestones, smile, and become more ethnically diverse!

Construction begins.

Um, what's the point of this thing if you can't leave them unattended?

In he goes...

...although the addition of a couple of blankets behind to bolster him helped a lot.



Come on, Pete, make an effort!

Finally: screaming because he wants to go faster!  Or just screaming.

Las Trampas

"I feel like a little tramp this afternoon," has several meanings, but in the wholesome Davies family it signifies a desire to go out for a walk.  The walks that Hannah and her siblings were forced to go on when younger are legendary, but now she's older and wiser and, like us all, has become her parents, she feels that getting out on a Sunday afternoon is vital to Pete's development.  He declined to comment, unless being sick counts.

Where better to tramp than Las Trampas Regional Wilderness, a short drive from us, in the Moraga hills?  It's designated a "wilderness" because it's more than ten minutes to the nearest Starbucks.

Yep: a wilderness.

It was 35C+ when we arrived at the staging post in the bottom of a valley, so slinging Pete onto ourselves was an impractical and smelly idea.  Instead we clicked his car seat into our all-terrain buggy and set off uphill.  Very uphill - soon it didn't matter where the baby was, all three of us were dripping like ice creams in a sauna.

Hannah wanted to give up half-way.  Ha!  You don't drag the Davies boys out into hell and then tell them you're going to give up!  I took over pushing, and Pete registered his support from inside his double-shaded cocoon by not screaming all the time.

We didn't make it to the very top; there was a gate, and at that point we didn't feel like hoisting a buggy over.  But we had done ourselves proud, and for our efforts received a view of Las Trampas almost as good as from the top of the ridge.  We'll get there next time...when Pete is old enough to push us.

An expedition into the wilderness had profound effects on each of us. On the way home we stopped at Starbucks.

...of civilisation.

Bollinger Creek, not free-flowing at this time of year.

Optimistic, and ready for the off!

Less optimistic.

It was a little steeper than we anticipated.



Almost there.

The view from the nearly-top.

Back at the bottom, and enjoying a kick around after rather a long time in a car seat.

Dining al fresco.

The sweet taste of safety in a Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappuccino.

Made for walking.

Finally home, and happily chilling by the pool.  We've heard that fresh air may promote hair growth...