This'll be a brief entry today. Mostly it's an explanation of what I'm about to do -- post the past few weeks of offline writing onto my blog but instead of dating them all today, I'll backdate them to when they were written. They'll all appear at once, but in the standard reverse chronological order of a web log. If you want to read them in the order most appropriate, start at May 16th.

As for today itself, it was my first day back to work in two weeks. Surprisingly little had changed. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I expected it to have.

Though the honeymoon may be over the temptation to write, especially with the laptop so handy, still lingers. Doubly so when we've had a full day, and I question my memory's ability to retain all of it that I wish. And so, write I will.

To begin the day, Katrina fixed a very nice breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes. Afterwards we spent some time planning and calling around, seeking to achieve two goals -- finding a permenant bed "frame" to go with the Tempur-Pedic mattress we recently bought and to find a gift for Philippe, as today is his 29th birthday. Goal one we achieved at a cost of ~$675 from some going out of business sale at a mall in Woodland, and goal two we achieved by buying an audiocassette version of the book, "A Brief History of Nearly Everything." The bed was pretty much exactly what we'd been looking for, a straightforward pedestal with drawers and storage space built into it. The price was a bit higher than we'd been aiming for, though not too much so, and it's very solid construction and should have no difficulties lasting as long as the mattress is supposed to -- twenty years. Hopefully it'll be a major step towards solving some of the clutter we've been accumulating lately; we have room enough for everything in the apartment, but not enough places to store it all, if that makes any sense at all. The book-on-tape for Philippe was a last minute find, as I was originally going to get him an audio version of "The Game of Thrones" -- at 34 hours long it's perfect for his 100 mile daily commute, but the price at Borders was pretty jaw dropping. Amazon.com was so much cheaper, it would've been hard to justify the extra price just to have it here in time. While checking Amazon's price, I checked out Audible.com and heard a sample of "Brief History" and was extremely impressed with both the style of writing and the vocalization of the reader, and oh, the topic was interesting too. Buying it from Audible.com wouldn't work as a gift because his car doesn't have a CD player, but Borders carried it, and at a more reasonable price than for Game of Thrones.

Bed purchased and gift in hand, we dashed off to Helene's house to participate in a surprise moment for Philippe. Cake lighting, balloons everywhere, cheerful company -- it'd be hard not to enjoy moments like that. We all gave him his gifts, then unexpectedly Katrina & I recieved one from him as a wedding present, a very neat little insulated picnic bag all decked out with a spot for wine, a cutting board for cheese, wine glasses and utensils, and a little roll up blanket. It was literally a romantic picnic in a bag -- the timing of this had me giggling on the inside, as I'll explain in a moment. Can't wait to explain it to him tomorrow.

We wrapped up at Helene's by viewing their photos of our wedding, and everyone made their way over to D.P.'s apartment complex for a BBQ he was throwing in honor of his newborn daughter, Aditi -- she's a touch over a month old now. Splashed in the pool -- actually, spent most of the time nailing each other with a couple little rubber balls -- played air hockey, Foosball, and ate food that was altogether not bad -- had a wonderful time.

As soon as we got home, I started getting ready to leave again, this time packing up the picnic basket with wine, sparkling cider, candles, etc. Katrina quickly noticed and helped pack, and within a few minutes we were out the door again and bound for the greenbelt. Picked a nice grassy spot away from the lights and with a view of the full moon overhead, unrolled the blanket, lit the candles and settled in. Midway through the picnic I pulled one of the "52 Weeks of Romance" cards out of my wallet and showed Katrina what it said:

Moonlit Picnic
Plan a moonlit picnic complete with candle, champagne, and a few romantic nibbles. Be sure to bring an extra large blanket so that the two of you can snuggle up together... (if you can't make it outside, set this up beside an open window)

Thanks Philippe & Anne -- you made it too easy. =)

This will be the final entry for this log, under it's curent title at least, as the honeymoon is sadly over -- this writing is being done from the couch of our own little apartment, admist the clutter of a tiredly unpacked car. It'll be ending on a good note, though, as today was a very good one. Awaking refreshed and well rested this morning, we hopped in the car and wound up our way up route 236 to Big Basin Redwood State Park again. Bought a day permit, spent a few minutes packing our lunches, and we were soon winding our way past the trunks of trees that were already old when Columbus first set foot in the "New World." A few were likely old enough to have been alive when Christ was born; they towered over us, massive, peaceful things that scraped at the sky. Our hike took us out Sunset trail, down Berry Creek Falls Trail, and returned via Skyline to the Sea Trail, and showed to us three magnificent waterfalls -- Golden Cascade, Silver Falls, and Berry Creek Falls. Each beautiful, and each with its own character. Golden Cascade was a tri-level slide that flowed over what looked to be a golden colored sandstone, the water spread wide and covered the whole face of it, and it had the look of a water wreathed Mayan pyramid about it. Silver falls was a continuation of Golden, except more of a true fall, rather than a slide. The color of the rock beneath was hidden by the white of the falling water, and it's name suited it. Berry Creek Falls was the largest of the three by volume, because another creek had joined by that point -- by height I'd be hard pressed to name the winner between Berry or Silver. Berry had a broad lip, and some of the water ran down in rivulets and some shot out over the edge with vigor. It all ended up at the bottom, but by such different paths that I would think all the droplets must have had much to discuss as they rushed off downstream -- but instead it was a curiously quite and peaceful stream that left the foot of the falls. Come the end of the 11-mile loop, we were both tired and content to be done, especially since we hadn't quite recovered from our hike on the 18th, but were smiling and happy all the same. And thusly went our Honeymoon.

I almost forgot. This morning, on the way to Monterey, we stopped by the ocean and stared down at it for what must have been an hour. I suspect I've spent more hours doing that this past week then I had in the sum of my life prior. And oh -- we found an official roadsign for a pig crossing. Too cute.

We've moved from Big Sur up through Monterey and into Boulder Creek. A major point in Monterey was to find a 'net access point so that Katrina could register for a summer Anatomy class at Woodland college. Much to her dismay, not only was the class already full but she couldn't add to the waitlist because the system was demanding that she have the prerequisites done. A B.S. from UC Davis in Biology certainly qualifies as that, but the office will need to see a fax of her transcripts before they can lift the hold. Transcripts which are in Davis, or possibly not even there since they will probably need the Junior College transcripts to see the necessary classes. To double the frustration, she had called the registration office previously, and even went there in person -- transcripts in hand -- to be certain that exactly this sort of bullshit wouldn't impede her registration later. Assured twiceover that everything would be fine, she was lied to twiceover.

That frustration behind us (although merely for the moment, as it will eventually need confronting), we later had lunch at a Whole Foods grocery store deli and bought some chocolate truffles and something called halvah (sp?) for Jesse and Sarain ... and some white chocolate, chocolate peaches and more halvah for us. "Give unto others as you would give unto yourself." That shit ain't in the Bible, but it sure sounds like it should be.

Moving on from there, we drove up to Big Basin Redwoods State Park where we had called ahead to ask about tent cabins. Upon arriving, we found that while the price was as quoted, and the availability was as discussed, the inclusion of linens hadn't been inquired about. They weren't. And while you could rent some for $10, the 2 sheets, 2 blankets and 2 pillows sounded inadequate to fend off the cold and the look of the cots seemed less than back friendly. So we retreated back to the nearest town and rented a hotel room ($85) like a coupla city slickers with money to burn. To complete the money burnin' image, we went to a co-op style grocery and bought fixin's for tomorow's hiking lunch ($23), went to a hippie organic vegetarian dinner ($22 + $5 tip + $5 tip to musicians) and then bought a nicely matted print ($22). Money burnt, an excellent time had by all, and I won't regret a penny of it when I feast on the groceries and leftovers tomorrow and sleep soundly tonight.

Back at camp in the Big Sur Campground and Cabins, although in a new tent cabin just across the way from the old. We moved this morning because our old one was reserved for tonight -- still no sign of anyone in it, though. No matter, took only a few minutes to do, and it seems the new cabin's bed may even be a bit softer. Katrina's off in the shower again, I opted to wait 'till morning. When she gets back, we'll most likely discuss destinations for tomorrow, but perhaps our real destination will only be determined (or discovered) once we're already on the road. It's Wednesday now, and I have vacation cleared through all the way to Friday, so there's still no time pressure. The only pressures that are starting to build are the need for clean laundry -- not too big of a deal so long as we keep "roughing it" -- and the need to relieve Sarain and Jesse of their Pfeiffer-sitting duty. We definitely owe them for their help, and I'm really hoping to find a nice souvanier from this Julia Pfeiffer Burns area. It should be something regional, something that they'd both like, something useful or practical, and something not too cheap. I figure at a minimum we should give them $50 worth of stuff, and I wouldn't particularly blink at $100 if the stuff wasn't way overpriced. And it shouldn't be the sort of thing where, upon recieving it, you think, "Oh Cute! How cool. Now what?" I hate cute little things which, regardless of how cute they are, are really just clutter-junk. I hate receiving it, and I really hate foisting it off on others. T-Shirts, pullovers, and sweaters come to mind as good gifts, but the heavier stuff is unseasonal and Katrina pointed out that regular T-shirts aren't exactly a staple of most girl's wardrobes. S'pose there's always gift certificates, wines, chocolates, yummy gift baskets, and tickets to events -- we'll have to do something, a simple thanks and a promise to do the same in return just isn't enough.

Couldn't quite make it down to the beach in the JPB park, as there were no trails down, but the views from above were like a something from a pirate's dream. The beach was tucked back in a cove, with the water churning and mixing as it surged in. The sand was pristine, and the waterfall came cascading down to crash onto the sands below. It's something you expect to see after emerging from a 20 mile hike through the jungle in Hawaii, not by stepping out of your car and walking 200 yards. Even after we'd made up our minds to leave, I couldn't quite take my eyes from the fall and the sand below.

From there we drove to a beach where we could walk along it on the sand. The prior one had no approach as the cliffs were too unstable. This one was called Pfeiffer beach, and it was useless in so many ways -- cold, windy, deadly for swimming -- but it made up for by channelling waves in like a funnel. One wave would come rolling in and the others behind it, too impatient to wait their turn, would come barging in too. One, two, three waves would all be curling over and surging in at the same time, some times stacking up, other times nulling each other out. What's more, in some of the barrier rocks there were large holes, and through these would come a fragment of wave, splashing up the sides of the hole and bearing a resemblence to nothing more than a water ride at Disneyland.

Ewoldsen trail, 4.5 mile loop, quite steep. Tired? Sure. Worth it? Oh yea. Here, as they seem to be throughout California, the flowers are in full bloom. Ewoldsen took us up via a shady trail to the hilltops high above Highway 1 and the ocean. Majestic views that surely won't be captured on film, but which are too tempting to not try. After we finish our sandwiches we'll be heading in the opposite direction, down to the beaches on another trail that's also part of Julia Pfeiffer Burns state park.

Slept soundly, as always, though mid-night Katrina woke me up needing to go to the bathroom. She'd just gotten through being chased and chased and chased by lunatic eco-hippies that wanted to kill her for not being ecologically sensitive enough -- so she wasn't exactly in the frame of mind to go walking through the dark of the night by herself.

Oops. She just returned from her shower and caught me sitting in the tent cabin, writing. Jokingly scolded me with something along the lines of, "All locked away in here when there's a beautiful view outside." So true. And so, sitting outside now, my eyes are constantly distracted by the flow of water over rock, and my ears by the sound of mixing, tumbling, flowing water. Our brains must be hardwired to love such sounds and sights, for it seems that everyone, regardless of age or jadedness can happily spend hours entraced by the sound and motion of a flowing stream. Likewise for the dance of a fire -- though I suspect that the thoughts percolating through my head during such an entrancement are a bit different than most. Do other people spend their fire-watching hours pondering the reactions that release the flammable hydrocarbon gases that are really being burnt when you burn "wood" or the convection currents that give flames their shape? Even in the primative pleasures of watching nature's elements -- flame, water, earth and air -- I can't quite purge the science geek that's seeped into my soul.

We ended up going northbound. There was some debate over whether we should work our way towards home, or if we should head back to Santa Barbara to visit Katrina's grandparents, and especially her grandfather, Dan, who is in gradually declining health. We eventually decided to continue with our pure "honeymooning" and return once we had the wedding photos in hand to share. So from Cambria we went to Hearst Castle, blanched a bit at the price of the tours ($24 each, up from $14) and instead enjoyed the free exhibits/museum at the visitor's center without setting foot in the actual castle.

More northward journeying took us to Big Sur, where we've rented a neat little tent cabin for the night. It's from the bed of that cabin that I now write. Just a hop down the road is the Riverside Inn, where we had a nice dinner -- ribs for me, based on the recommendation of the camp host, and a burger for Katrina. Good food, but an even better view -- just below us ran the same creek that our camp is situated next to. With the thought of renting a DVD and watching it on the laptop in our heads, we set off down the road shortly after dinner. Found a movie (Sideways) and while we were out checked in on the Big Sur state park. No attendent present, free admission. A trailhead to Pfeiffer Falls, and with such a short distance to the top (0.4 miles) I was soon dragging Katrina up the trail... well, okay, it was more the other way 'round. Pretty little waterfall, nicely named, but not spectacularly large or anything -- although there was more hidden upstream that could just barely be caught a glimpse of. Decent, then return to camp. Within a few minutes, the quite roar of our bedside creek will be lulling us to sleep. G'night for now.

Okay, so we talked to them, and their math IS screwy, and they're unwilling to fix it. They're going with a much higher nightly rate now than when Rolf first booked the hotel, so that the total only dropped 20 bucks. So be it, not my wallet to argue over, but it's a poor way to cut a deal. (Katrina disagrees, saying that the rate Rolf initially booked it for was already including the 2 for 1 discount in the price.)

We check out today, and set to wandering whichever way our minds and feet direct us. Hearst Castle is one likely destination, 'though Katrina has seen most all there is to see there already. I've never laid eyes on the place; if we do go, it'll be my job to "reinterpret" the sights in a new and fresh way.

I'm sitting on the balcony at the moment, and it's even more pleasant than before. The wind's dropped to a whisper, and every finch and songbird is letting the world know about their fine discoveries. Unfortunantly, my mind keeps being pulled back to the bill for the hotel. It's fine that it's expensive, but their math for calculating the "2 nights for 1" discount seems entirely too screwy. It's something I'll have to talk to them about to clear my concern, but it's not a conversation I particularly look forward to. On the other hand, I'm looking forward to it being over, so that it need no longer keep knocking at the door to my mind.

Katrina's done with her shower now, and we need check out within the next 10 minutes. Go time.

A nondescript Mexican restaurant provided dinner tonight, a cemetary provided half an hour's distraction, and a young cat named Hooey provided a soft patch of fur to run our hands through. With the sun threatening to drop off the end of the earth without us around to manage the event, we raced back to our hotel. Camera in hand, we made a beeline for the beach. The sort of beeline that a bee might make if it needed to go potty first, that is. The wind ... oh dear. As I write this, Katrina's trying to hangfromthecanopy framelike a female King Kong -- on a diet. Unsatisfied with her domination of the bed's upper regions, she furiously came at me with pillow in hand, slamming it with vigor into my chest, screaming and pulling her hair all the while. What HAVE I gotten myself into?

Upon reading the above, her only correction? I didn't capitalize Mexican. Easily fixed.

We just spent the last few hours making a lunch out of a "Wine & Cheese Tasting" downstairs in the lobby and walking along the bluffs of Cambria. The wildflowers have gone mad, abandoned all sense of proper spacing, and are climbing over and on top of each other in their struggle to grab your attention. It's beautiful. The ocean still sends its fingers tapping against the rocks below. Incessent, but patient.

We've brought some of the wedding presents and cards up from the car, and are about to open them. Should be nice.

A sampling, "Congratulations on your most special day!!! Enjoy being a princess. Have a great time and smile til your face hurts. Love Kristina & Bill ... and Andrew & Michael. (accompanied by two wonderful picture frames, one with small blue stones set in it, and a sort of "game" called 52 Weeks of Romance)"

It's amazing here. We're staying at the Pelican Suites in Cambria and it is hands down the nicest place I've ever set foot in much less stayed at. We've got a room with a balcony overlooking the ocean, and can see the waves crashing into the shore below. I'm thinking of -- and discarding -- adjectives to try to decribe it. They words I'd normally use seem too plain, or too cliche to fit. It's not awe-inspiring, or incredible, but it is incredibly nice.

I've had robots on the brain for the last few weeks, so when I saw a Radio Controlled "Stunt Vehicle" for $6, I didn't hesitate to buy it. At best I figured it would be a fun little toy to play with, and at worst I could tear it apart and use the RF controller and motors in a home-built toy. There was no way to lose. But little did I know that the instructions would turn out to be by far the most valuable piece -- I'm pretty sure they must have been translated from Chinese to English via Eskimo.

See the link for a (bad) photo of 'em, but here's a sampling, with my comments in [square brackets]. There are no typos, only some rather unique spelling...

1.Is not suitable for the 3 years old and the following child
2.Before beginning uses must hard finish reading this manual
3.Suggestion is under the person's leading usage

[I was really expecting line two to be some unlucky kid's name. Sorry Billy, this toy isn't suitable for the 3 years old and YOU.]

SAFE RULE
1.prohibition against 3 years old below of child usage;
2.play attention,you of finger,hair,clothes...etc.don't touch and car wheel,in order to prevent quilt harm; [QUILT?!]
3.car while driving not want to by hand grasp it;
4.don't let the remote control close to any fire withe car original;(such as electric stove ,stove beside or mightiness of sunlight bottom) [At least they clarified with examples...]
5.not want the place in danger to play; {such as street steep slope...etc.}
6.don't let the wet water of car,and not wnt under the rainy day is open-air usage;
7.not want on the sand ground to play;
8.forbid the child to tear open the remote control with the car; [Damn, and that's just what I was going to do, too. Oh... wait, with the car -- I'll use a screwdriver.]
9.if the car dash to piecesed,and should pass by the per son check or profession personnel maintain the rear can continue to use.