I left my heart in San Francisco

24 04 2021

Well leaving SF has become hard for me. That said, I will be back before I know it. The summer on Nantucket is a whirlwind and before I know it it will be over and then I’ll be sad to leave Nantucket, BUT I already procured two gigs out west at the Outer Sunset Mercantile Market on September 26 and October 10, both days from 12-2! I’m so excited!

Bison Golden Gate Park

So I got a lot of errands done, thankfully a package that was delayed arrived a day early yet still I couldn’t get out of the house before 5pm which meant I had to miss having dinner at the epic Trelio in Clovis, CA. I’ve always wanted to go, it’s epic, but it wasn’t in the cards this trip. And luckily on my last trip to sell back books at Green Apple Bookstore on Clement I was able to get to Wing Lee one last time! This time I got salt and pepper fried prawns! A half duck was too much to deal with yet very tempting… but wowsers this is a half pound of prawns!!

This is what $5.40 will buy you in prawns!!!!

So I got relatively organized but trying to organize a car for a long haul road trip is hard. Then add a fancy Gibson guitar and the basic needs like the traveling Riedel stemware kit and you can see how it escalated. I’d wanted to dine at Trelio in Clovis but I headed out too late. Bummed to miss my friend owner Chris Shackelford, but at least I got on the road. Instead it was me dining Chez Hampton Inn late night with roadside avocado and all my excess food and whatnot. I was able to regroup though and get a whole lot mire organized. Luckily the first leg was a shorter one and I was able to get one of the last rooms at the Tulare Hampton Inn. I like the chain, good Covid protocol which I discovered when I was in Arizona in late October helping the United Farm Workers Union with their canvassing campaign for Biden. I stayed for a week and found it to be super clean, safe and comfy.

So the morning got to a slow start and I did not get the Day One blog post done, but instead had to deal with the now new and very real urgency of trying to pack the car. I have some towels I bought at Costco and garbage bins and books… silly stuff really that is in the back seat, hopefully it obviously not important stuff, but I wanted the valuable stuff like the guitar to be covered when I stop for lunch or a restroom. I also brought a ton of CDs to join me, CDs I might add that are totally annoying because literally every time I took a load to the room they fell all over the place. Leg one music by the way was Dr. John Going Back to New Orleans (chosen at random, but seemed appropriate), Faith No More, and The Singles soundtrack.

So I pulled the car to the back of the hotel to load the three piles of crap back in, yep even after consolidating still so much stuff. While I was puzzling over how to fit it all, a homeless man approached asking for my room key so he could use my room to shower. I felt bad but I couldn’t chance it, seemed too sketchy. He apologized for asking me without my husband there, so I told him, “Oh yeah so he’s at the market getting us food.” He loomed around so I took the car round to the front portico of the hotel and resumed my puzzle. Let’s just say it was a total disaster. Everything in and out so many times, at least right. I love my Subaru but damn the truck is a weird shape on this Forester, I liked the old boxy one! And the curvy Gibson just did not want to fit. I know, I’m sorry first world problems. So everything in, then out, I tried not to make eye contact with the UPS delivery guy who was clearly amused. I took photos to remember the configuration but then some little thing would be off and I’d try again. Total nightmare. After about 35 minutes I got the thing done. And even got the truck closed, well after having to stop again. And then I had to stop at a rest stop about 10 minutes away because my anxiety had me convinced it could never have fit and I must’ve left a bag on the ground at the hotel. Ugh! So I left later than I’d wanted. I tried to remind myself that it’s all about the journey but I did make a ferry reservation for May 2, so I still need to make progress.

Hot mess

So the area around Tulare is the home to my favorite standard butter, Land O Lakes despite me not seeing any water anywhere. Lots of dairyland, big tanks, farm equipment suppliers etc. it was pretty dull scenery wise so I spent a good deal of the time on the phone with a friend chatting about my recent mindset. I’ve had a sort of catharsis understanding that my role in this life is to communicate and do so through writing, songwriting, teaching, healing and cooking. My message is going to take various routes to people and the universe has set things up so that I can live with ease to accomplish thus. Sounds a little wacky and new age but it’s what I feel compelled to do. This journey itself is part of it. I explained that I feel that my ancestors are closely around me guiding me at every turn. They’ve got me in their embrace and I’m being held by them. They’re holding my hand and allowing me to release past traumas so I can move forward. The other day I determined that “The Universe is my hammock”. Not a parachute that may or may not open, but rather a constant support system. If I believe something I’m doing is for the better good, the Universe will make it so. Very similar to the concept that The Camino will provide.

So I’m zipping along and starting to enter the Tehachapi mountains. I explain to Glen that this is where my dad Roman would have picked crops as a young migrant farm worker who came to the US in the bracero program. Roman passed away in 1995, and I’ve been recently understanding that although he’s gone it’s just for now. I didn’t handle the trauma of his death well… I’ve let it shadow me, and I’m learning to release that too, believing that our souls will reunite, but also believing his energy is still here with me. I explained also that this is the area where Cesar Chavez had his commune, La Paz, where I lived in Cesar’s home on an internship in 1988 while I was in high school in 1988. In fact just yesterday I came across the essay I’d written about agribusiness and its detrimental affect of the health of people in the town of McFarland that happened to appear somehow almost demanding to come on this journey with me. So suddenly the call dropped so I brought my attention to the mountains I was entering.

I had not done much research on what lay between my destinations, and I had thought I’d be staying in Clovis and heading to Sedona, but now the route was Tulare to Flagstaff. And I was literally just in the care of Google maps. I was on 58 E, I had no idea where in these mountains I’d visited so long ago. Suddenly I saw one of those blue signs that list food options with “Keene Café” on it. My mind perked up. Keene? Wasn’t that the name of the town where La Paz was? Yes, I remember now, that’s where I’d address the letters to Cesar and Helen. The whole reason I got the internship with Cesar was because he was a close friend of my father. My father would host UFW events at his Pancho Villa’s restaurants. Cesar was even my brother’s godfather. I met Emilio Estevez at a UFW grocery boycott… fast forward to me going to see a pre-screening of The Way where he and Martin Sheen spoke… and me then going on The Camino de Santiago years later… all interconnected.

But wait I’m driving here, and today I’ve got Buddha Bar playing and it’s all trance like and Zen like you just checked into a W Hotel or something, and there’s huge trucks all around me and these super rocky mountains are growing taller, and the drums. I’m in the right hand lane, should I stop fir lunch? It’s like 1:30. I can’t just pop in and say hey UFW. And it’s Covid. And is this even where it’s at? Then I see a sign, Cesar Chavez National Monument. What? This is a thing? (Thanks to Barack Obama it is) and just a few minutes later and I feel the wheel pull me to the exit.

The cute kitschy Keene Cafe signs had me pull over to take a photo. Still numbly floundering somehow I wonder should I bother with the monument? Is this really a thing? I see a sign that says 1/2 mile with an arrow… so I go. At the entrance is a new looking sign that confirms I’m here. This is La Paz. I start the windy road down. I even stop once, is this private? Am I allowed to be here? Why am I scared or think I’m imposing? I Google “Cesar Chavez National Monument” confirming it’s real and there’s a gift shop. So I go.

I pull in and get out to read a sign and a docent is there with a private tour. I hear him say they’re closed due to Covid. “Sorry are you closed? “ I ask timidly, he wonders if I’m looking for a bathroom. Not really I say and then he tells me I can go through the gardens, see the monument and if I want to go on a short jaunt I can go and see Cesar and Helen’s humble home. It’s behind the fence.

I tell him I lived there once for a week and he’s impressed lol, starts rattling off names of people I probably should remember, but he doesn’t know the current team, he’s a park services guy. I feel guilty for not reaching out to then but I’m just breezing through.

Suddenly they’re off, not a big place, but they disappear to allow me to be alone. The fountain which I discovered is the monument isn’t grand, just like Cesar wasn’t grand, but it exudes a sense of peace and calm that Cesar would have loved. There’s wisteria and a rose garden, but I step up into another area, didn’t seem like much save some quotes on the wall but one more step reveals a statue of the Virgen de Guadalupe. She’s an icon for me and I said before I headed out that she’d be with me on my journey. I am struck by the fact that if I hadn’t taken that extra step I would have missed her. I burst into tears, overcome by the emotion of it all suddenly allowing myself that feeling I’ve had so many times, that I’m EXACTLY where I’m supposed to be. The repacking the car, the little stop to check the trunk all the confluences are set out by the Universe to put me in the right place at the right time so that I’ll get confirmation that the messages I’m receiving are oh so real. I turned to the left and my eye caught the centerpiece of the garden and my heart caught further in my throat. Sobbing now I gazed at the final resting place of Cesar and Helen Chavez. Roman had given me that nudge so I could go and pay my respects. I had no idea they’d be buried there. Just incredible.

So I took the walk through plants that represented Cesar’s persona, simultaneously sturdy and tender, some from Cesar’s home state of Arizona. I found the humble home where I lived with them the week I worked on my research. I was embraced by the community and Cesar’s nieces. I remember the house had a small guest room with a high si gel bed where I stayed. It smelled of clean laundry with lots of Downy fabric softener. Cesar was macrobiotic and ate very simply and I’d sometimes see he’d taken a nibble right off the block of Muenster cheese. Wow. I’m so honored to be the keeper of these memories. I’m so grateful for this experience. I felt very connected yesterday.

The rest of the drive, about 7 hours, was pretty uneventful, beautiful Mojave desert and not much but deep thoughts.





Traveling again…

21 04 2021

2020 began innocently enough. I had a trip to San Francisco planned for some R&R. Just prior to that a friend suffered a dire accident and had to be medi-vacced to Boston from Nantucket. I happened to be going to the Boston University hockey game with a few of my college roommates from 301 Bryant. I was lucky enough to have some time to go and visit him in the hospital. I picked up some towels at Macy’s for his girlfriend who’d been stalwartly at his side for most of the week while he lay in a medically induced coma to get through his intense injuries. I also grabbed some dim sum in Chinatown and got some egg custard bites for her. Friends sent some cash for her to use and I got it and bought two cards with mushrooms on them at a shop near Mass General to wrap it in. When I arrived she warned me of his condition. Nothing like the cardiac ICU to bring up memories of past hospital bedside visits and departures, but I steadied myself and went in, bravely I might add.

She told me I could touch his hand and I did, thinking briefly of Covid, but it wasn’t even a thought to most back then. I came back the Monday after, and honestly can’t remember which visit it was, but I was there when he was waking up. He is a normally ornery guy but he was combative upon reassuming his body. No blame but he was fighting and confused as to his predicament. His girlfriend was frustrated and left me alone in the room with him. I said, “Hey man, you gotta be calm, because these nurses have got you so you gotta be nice to them… you’ve been out sedated for a while so it’s gonna take a bit to come back.” “Sedated?! SEDATED!” He growled. “Sedated for how long?” He probed incredulously. Not knowing whether I should tell him and with no one else in the room I told him, “10 days.” He seemed confused but also diffused. I was happy to see him alive and With the same brain function as ever.

But I headed out to SF on a frivolous journey, dim sum and wine and honey mead abounded, but just as I was scheduled to go home we got word that my husband’s father was dying. He hopped a plane to Phoenix and I drove down visiting Megan and Phoebe in Santa Barbara, and Greg in Palm Springs. I got the news that he passed as I was stopping at a crystal shop in Quartzsite.

So we spent some days cleaning his room from the nursing home, staying with family and regrouping and eventually made the trip back north to SF where we could then fly back to Nantucket. The generosity of our friends was great. Trupiano and his family welcomed us for happy hour and Treg and Shannon let us stay in Santa Barbara and get to know their amazing kids. We saw Raj and Nina on our way out of town. We hopped on the plane for Nantucket not realizing this would be our last journey for a while.

So the lockdown happened very soon after our return and a new normal began, masks, sanitizer, distancing all of it. I ran my business The Hungry Minnow the best I could in this different paradigm. And in the fall my traveling ache just could not be squelched and I headed to SF again and zipped down to Arizona to help the United Farm Workers Union turn Arizona blue. A week down there and then back to SF and back to Nantucket for the winter. Spring found me longing for sun and the other ocean and so I spent a lot of time out in SF regrouping mentally for the coming summer season. I got the vaccine (2 doses of Pfizer) and now I’m really to hit the road again. I’m heading back east but this time by car. My friend Ali today spoke of the magnetically charged road the cord that drove us during our magical walk in 2018 on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. She reminds me as much as our feet and bodies ached how driving the pull was. That’s what this journey is as well. I’m feeling the pull to step out of my comfort zone yet again and hit the road. My course is plotted but the coordinates are not firm, there’s always forks in the road. I’m guided by intuition and feel that I’ve discovered my purpose at least for the short term. I’m a writer. I’m a songwriter. I’m an artist. I’m a healer. I have been denying these truths but know I now must embrace them. It’s an unconventional lifestyle but I’m going to come to terms with the fact that I’m bicoastal. I have two anchors that are across the country from each other. It may seem crazy, but I’ve spent 7 or so years trying to come “choos” and I can’t. So the truth that I’m finding is that the coasts are my anchors or moorings and the country is my ocean. It’s my job to navigate and by taking on the task I am weaving a web of interconnection between the two.

I always said that my songs really speak about what I’m meant to do if I’d just listen to my own lyrics… almost every song I write riffs off this theme.

“Like driftwood I long to be weathered, but please keep me firmly tethered to your moors, like sea glass I need to be tumbled, to strengthen sometimes you must stumble, but oh, when I’m ready, moonlight on the jetty will guide me back safely, cuz to grow, you gotta go to sea.

So I set sail via car tomorrow. Would you join me?





Camino de Santiago Day 10: Logrono to Najera

9 04 2018

Day Ten! My body is in full efficiency mode, feet are good muscles are toned, the poles are like another set of limbs working to take the pressure off my joints. And I have rhythm!

We got up early enough to get Suzy’s bag set to ship out by 8 since the Pension was unattended in the morning. Although there was rain forecast when we left we saw none. Right down the road we saw cafe Picasso advertising breakfast for 2,80 coffee, fresh squeezed juice and a jamon and pepper sandwich that was freshly prepared, absolutely delicious. As we sat there easing into the day we glanced outside and it was pouring. Despite the big day ahead we took our time with breakfast and miraculously when we were ready to go the rain was light, not dumping like before. Sophia the cafe server even agreed to help Suzy get minutes from the Orange store for her phone, it wasn’t open until much later in the morning, but Suzy gave her some cash and she sweetly agreed to load the minutes for her later in the day.

The walk out of Logrono was tedious. With the rain constant we had hats and hoods on and it was often hard to look up to see the signs for the Camino. We passed by a protest for a trial we heard about at the court and almost got lost a few blocks down. Remember that rain doesn’t always fall down, Today it was falling AT us sideways and soon my pants were soaked and I was a bit chilly without another layer underneath. We saw a dog dressed very fancy wearing a shirt and corduroy pants, he looked warmer than we were.

With the rain we stop less to look around and I don’t take as many photos since my phone is wrapped up in plastic. We did get a break in the rain after a rest stop that had facilities and had a chance to watch some swans and ducks.

We just kept walking and walking until we saw the town of Navarette. Suzy made up a fun marching song and we marched on up to the town. We kept on the Camino not wanting to stop at he very first cafe we saw but we found very little on the route, lots of shuttered homes and abandoned buildings. We eventually left the route and found some banks where I got cash but Suzy was still unable to exchange dollars. She has enough for now but he plan is to try to get another hotel in a big town to do an exchange later in the trip. We did find a cute cafe but they had limited food, our breakfast was holding us over but we got two beers and a big piece of pork belly that they heated for us, delicious! we could feel the meat reenergizing our muscles. Sadly our clothes had not dried but we put them back on and plodded on.

Amazingly the rain had stopped but it was really cold at first, the wind was whipping and temperatures seemed to have dropped. There were lots of vineyards with pinkish soil and a good deal of mud. We stopped briefly in Ventosa for a beverage but we found each time we stopped we seemed to be get even colder.

We walked on and walked and walked. We missed a sign once and ended up at the bottom of a muddy hill only to see footsteps heading the wrong way and realized our error. And we walked. I was irritated to see that we were still far from the town it seemed endless as we wife past factories and industrial parts of town but eventually we made it to the Puerta de Najera hostel. The place is awesome, a great group of pilgrims were there and two pilgrim families merged. Somehow of course Heino and Marc and Helena were there and as we enjoyed some wine with the pilgrims there we met new ones! Gigi from San Francisco greeted us as we’d met on the Camigas blog and we met Z, Alyssa and Andi who were to my excitement playing left right center (although sadly not for money). We shared some wine which was available for sale at the hostel. Mary came in and gave us the brilliant idea to microwave a potato and cover it with cheese. Suzy and I headed out in search of the grocery store which is seconds from the hostel but went down the wrong street to our good fortune though as we found a place that serves the mushrooms like we had in Logrono and a fancy butcher where we got some lomo!

We finally found the grocer also and created a little feast of bonito tuna, white asparagus, local cheese and my favorite boquerones. And a bottle of El Coto Rioja crianza. At 10 they shut the lights and now we have survived the 6:30 am rustle and shuffle as pilgrims rush out of here. It’s 7:15 am now and maybe five of us are left, and it’s still dark out. Suzy has been wondering where they got the night vision goggles they must have ;). We like to take our time and ease into the day. I did brush my teeth early today and there were people lined up and waiting, so I’m cool to leave later. We have a mellow walk today anyway…

Oh I failed to mention that yesterday’s walk was 20.1 miles including our walk through the town. 🙂





Camino de Santiago Day Five: Pamplona to Puente la Reina

4 04 2018

Walk the Camino they said, it’ll be great they said…

Today was all about self doubt and wonder.

So luckily Suzy got money issues sorted yesterday but not without a crazy amount of effort. She ultimately had to get currency exchanged at a hotel and the ordeal included begging for a ride, a bus trip and more. Terribly stressful, but she sweetly got me a Kukuxumusu shirt for a gift once she was plush with cash and we had a fantastic dinner of tapas. Alistair had shown up at our Albergue as well so we hung out and drank some wine.

I somehow was able to climb to the bunk up the crazy ladder and fall asleep fully clothed atop all my crap from my pack. I was comfy but it was warm. The rustling of packs and bags and not so muffled noises of the other 19 bodies woke me a bit, but I was able to sleep until about 7. After a little tea and some repacking and backpack adjustment we bid adieu to Alistair, Ken and Allen who’d decided to spend an extra day in Pamplona to recuperate.

Today’s “walk” once again no joke.

We headed out and stopped at an adorable cafe for a cream puff and a coffee. The place was killer and even let us try their local not very sweet cinnamon pastry. Then it was off onto the route. We meandered through the city streets of Pamplona and started a slow ascent up up up and up up up across the valley and some farmland. Huge boulders in the field and on the path made it important to keep your feet moving and lift them up with every step and honestly I felt like I was wearing cement shoes. We used the amazing view as a good excuse to stop and catch our breath.

We stopped in a small town, Zariquiegui, just before the last steep rise to Alto de Perdon. Our legs were wobbly and we were starving so the super hot chicken soup and pork cutlets were so delicious and nourishing, and they gave us a full bottle of wine, 11 Euro. After lunch it was back to the route and we saw it had started raining. This part of the ascent is very steep and just covered in what I as a resident of Nantucket would call cobblestones. Every single step on the wet rocks had to be measured but we kept going and eventually made it to the top where there is an exhilarating view! This is also where there is a depiction of pilgrims on the crest of the hill and you are all the way up near the windmills.

After such an accomplishment we relished the moment and then we came across the grim realization that we had to go all the way back down the other side, a similarly steep grade just absolutely covered in cobbles. Luckily the rain had stopped. And luckily we only had some of that wine because the descent was treacherous. Be very careful here or you could twist an ankle.

Honestly all day yesterday I asked myself why I’m doing this. And my answer is waiting out there somewhere in the ether. It seemed the further we went we still made no headway. We passed through town after town which still wasn’t where we were staying.

We found a statue of the Virgen Mary and sat there and had some chocolate to lift our spirits and out of nowhere a flock of hawks probably about 8 of them circled above us, we joked that they were vultures circling because we looked so dead tired… but they were amazing. It was like they were performing for us. Then they flew off.

The rest of the walk super uneventful, tedious even and it seemed to go on forever, but we made it to Puente la Reina and enjoyed dinner with a new “pod” of pilgrims that already knew each other… it was great. We stayed at the Hotel Jakue which had great food and a nice buffet. Til tomorrow.





Camino de Santiago

21 01 2018

Read the rest of this entry »