Rewind

Topanga Beach offered gifts from the sea. I brushed off the sand and jammed them in my pockets.

Being in California was a gift in itself. So, imagine my delight in hearing stories told by my own mother, who will be 90 years young this August, and my father, Guitar Whitey, who turns 95 in May.

True tales of long ago.

It would be impossible to repeat the full account, but some of these stories took place in Liverpool, England. My grandfather was a wheelwright. He had horses and a donkey. One morning while everyone was in church, the donkey in the neighborhood made so much racket hee-hawing, disrupting the sermon, all heads turned and looked at my mother.

I heard about how a carton of cigarettes was a luxury during the war. Everybody smoked.

Then there was a ship named The America sailing to NYC. All of the officers wanted to dance with this sweet girl from Liverpool. Nobody could jitterbug like Joyce!

As newlyweds, my parents drove cross country from NYC to Aspen, Colorado in a '40's Roadster. When they arrived, my father joined the first-ever summer Mintrelsy school. A Folksinger's school! Have you ever heard of such a thing? It was intended to train students in the ancient tradition of being a Minstrel. A man named Richard Dyer-Bennet taught students Spanish guitar, voice and performance techniques.

So, they spent the summer of '48 in Aspen, Colorado.

They rode the old rickety chair lift to the top for a BBQ.

My dad bought my mother a pair of red cowboy boots. She hated them!

The English tea pot he surprised her with one day, she adored!

It was a sunny afternoon. My parents, along with another couple, squeezed into the Roadster. Driving along a dirt road that followed the river, they unexpectedly veered off and went crashing into the river landing upside down. The four of them, crammed like sardines in the front seat (the only seat), walked away unscathed. Nobody was hurt at all.

The worst thing that happened was the Roadster no longer had a windshield.

At the end of the summer, my mother drove with some friends up to San Francisco, while my father followed them in his windowless automobile. (See picture above)

My dad made it to San Francisco, got a terrific sunburn and covered in dust along the way, and as he drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, he was pulled over and issued a ticket for driving without a windshield.

My parents stayed in the city by the bay for a few years. They found a little apartment in Haight-Ashbury.

At that time, it wasn't yet the home base of the hippie subculture, but I would bet that it embraced a beatnik or two. Most certainly a Folksinger or minstrel, singing stories of distant places.

Ha! Haight-Ashbury. Now you know why I am the way I am.

My dad and Chad on the Port San Luis Pier. Walking and talking about everything under the sun.

Playful otters at Morro Bay.

My dear mother knitting me another pair of fingerless mitts.

She knits like she dances.

This lovely beach was just a short drive from the Return To Freedom Wild Horse Sanctuary in Lompoc, California.

We visited Return To Freedom Wild Horse Santuary where we got to see some fortunate wild horses. They were rescued from the BLM holding pens after a roundup, They must feel like they're in paradise. Or Ireland.

As you know, I cannot stay away from Topanga Canyon.

We spent the night in this very funky cabin. I felt the vibes of Joni Mitchell there.

Waking up and having coffee in The Canyon is something I've always wanted to do.

This big boy is Eclipse. I ride him once a week, learning the forward riding system, that is the basis of hunter/jumper riding. I am learning true horsemanship from my new instructor, Stephanie. Just the other day Eclipse and I did a Flying Lead Change! It's beyond amazing what a rider and her horse can do together.

It's better than yoga.

For obvious reasons, I thought I'd like to read this novel. She's written some wonderful books.

However, in the first chapter of Riding Lessons, the woman jumps her horse, they crash, she breaks her neck and the horse dies. In the very first chapter!!! I seldom read fiction, but I thought I'd give it a go. I never finished it.

I returned the book to the library.

It's no secret that I'm a big fan of Lucinda Williams. And this is her best CD.

I've not listened to anything else for a week now.

I discovered all kinds of animal tracks and scat last time I was at Red Feather.

I'm going to find out who's been visiting this spring!

Besides the usual Moose.

I often like to take a moment or two and remind myself of how valuable the agreements can be.

A certain sweet kitty wrapped herself up in that blanket.

And that, my friends, is what I've been up to lately.