Same post, different year.

For the 12th year in a row, I think, we've gone up to Tahoe over Christmas. For most of the last several years Dave's sister and her family have come up from LA to join us. They did this year, too, and stayed with us for four nights. All that togetherness was great. I was reminded again how hilarious my niece is (aged 17) and the youngest Pinks liked all that extra time with her. I love having houseguests up at Tahoe because I'm on vacation, too, and Squaw provides so much to do outside, both summer and winter.

We skied. We ate. We played poker. We watched It's a Wonderful Life. We did a puzzle. My SIL did most of it. She has a lot of patience. We watched the snow fall on Christmas Eve and stayed an extra night to avoid the mess that had become I-80. We ate Japanese on Christmas Eve, too, because there's no Chinese food at Squaw.

My mother-in-law got each of her grand daughters selfie sticks so we played with that on the chair lift. Dave shot the picture here, albeit a bit nervously because what do you do if the iPhone falls out and into the snow below?!

On Day 1 I took a wrong turn off the Shirley Lake chair and ended up on the mogul course. If it hadn't been so icy I would have given it an upright shot. But instead I took off my skis and walked down. Until, that is, I slipped and came down a ways on my tush. Which again, would have been fine had I been wearing ski pants. Oh no. Thing 2 outgrew hers and so I was in jeans. Which then filled with cold snow. And one of my skis flew into the air and landed on my arm, which I thought might have been gashed open by the sharp edges. It wasn't, fortunately, but it is 50 shades of purple and yellow now. The orthopedic surgeon (the BIL) took a look and deemed it ugly but not dangerous.

Dave, Thing 1 and I met the Inverarity-Moffat's for dinner in Truckee one night. They are in from London and the meal was over in a flash. So good to see them as always. It makes me want to just hop the pond and weekend with them in places like Vienna and Berlin.

And more luau.

There were three hours between the end of the Kiddush and the party set up. The most significant thing that happened during that time was that Thing 2 chopped 12 inches off of her hair. She went back to her signature bob and harmony was restored to our home! Long hair is beautiful if you have the patience to take care of it. She did not. She looks like herself again and she is so happy to not have all that maintenance! As are we.

Now on to the luau. Although the fabulous Jenna was running the show, it still took a small army to pull it all together. Thank you Singers, Dave Harap, Bentleys, Willmarths, Wycoffs and The G/dfather. It takes time to pin grass skirts on table cloths, string lights and lanterns in trees and on poles, arrange rental lounge furniture, instruct the caterer, DJ, photo booth people, balloon lady, and set up tables for gifts and sign in boards plus two bars. (About that adult bar: I conveniently forgot that our little town only lets you serve beer and wine in its venues. We may have forfeited our security deposit over my interpretation of this rule when we served mai tai's but I won't know for another few weeks.)

The big takeaway from this luau was that the kids had a blast. Their smiling faces and moving bodies dancing will stay with me. Most of the kids had never been to a celebration such as this and the DJ and crew did their job of keeping the kids busy and happy. A few of Thing 1's dance friends are Jewish and they showed the new-to-this-scene-kids how it was done.

One of the dance team friends, a few years younger than Thing 1, came up to both me and Dave individually as she left and told us that it was the best party she'd ever been to. It was the sweetest thing.

Dave and I have a fairly diverse group of friends and the kids and adults just mixed and mingled. Melissa, the super-sweet new wife of one of Dave's childhood friends, came in from Dallas and explained her daughter's easy entry by saying, "This one has never met a stranger." How fabulous is that?!

In addition to dancing, the DJ did:

• Some sort of game involving stuffing children in large t-shirts with balloons
• Limbo
• Hula hoop contest
• Volleyball
• Macarena
• Dances involving hats, sunglasses, glo-sticks, flashing rings, floral leis and blow up microphones, guitars and saxophones
• YMCA and
• Who knows what else. I didn't see it all.

Denon and Doyle provided the entertainment, which is four people: the DJ, the emcee and two party motivators. The party motivators make sure everyone is up and participating, and they also hand out those sunglasses, glo-sticks and air guitars. These people deliver a high-quality product. As Dave likes to say, as soon as you pick your Mitzvah date you call Denon and Doyle to see if they're available. If they're not, you change your date.

We did a candle lighting where The Pinks thanked special groups of friends and family by reading a poem. Pictured here are Thing 2's lacrosse friends after they lit their candles.

There was the slide show, previously mentioned. At the end of the slide show I said a few words about The Pinks and told them how proud we were of their accomplishments. I reminded them of their continued responsibility to Judaism and to tikkun olam, making the world a better place.

We are a family of strong women. My mother and mother-in-law have long devoted themselves to volunteer causes. One of my grandmothers was a journalist, the other a force to be reckoned with in Memphis' Jewish community. Dave's grandmother owned and ran a women's dress shop in Napa for 52 years, back during the years that women just didn't do that. After Dave's grandmother passed away my mother-in-law had a few of her mink coats turned into teddy bears by a New York furrier. Each of her great grand-daughters received one at their Bat Mitzvah.

Dave spoke to the legacy of women in our family and The Pinks received theirs that night. (Sidebar: Thirteen years ago, when Dave and I found out we were having twins, he called his mother and said, "Mom, we are one teddy bear short." She didn't miss a beat and said, "You're having twins?! That's wonderful, David." And so another fur coat was shipped to New York and a fifth teddy bear was born.)


It was hard not to think about Dave's grandma Ruth that night because The Pinks spent a lot of time with her prior to her passing. She lived in an assisted care community near our first house in Danville and we visited her 3-4 times a week. We'd go over there and The Pinks would ride their scooters around the unit, play their toy musical instruments, and sing and dance. Not only did Ruth love it, the other residents did, too. The more chaos the better. It was a great diversion for everyone. (Confession: Visiting Ruth kept ME sane. It is HARD parenting twin toddlers and I loved every moment we spent with Ruth because I could relax.) I still think that Dave's father moving his mother near us was the greatest gift ever.

The picture above at right is Thing 2 with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law. I love how Sara Singer, who always is wearing the exact right thing, was captured in it, too. Sara -- you must take me shopping.

The caterer was a risk. I let go, though, and truly trusted Jenna. She'd heard they were good although she'd never seen them in action. (Like the Jewish community, the Mormon community is tight. They might be in the same ward.) I put it out of my mind and figured I'd just double the alcohol if the food turned out to be bad. It wasn't. It got raves. We also had Hawaiian Shave Ice for dessert and the kids sang its praises although I didn't see it apart from the set up. Thanks Bentley cousins for the idea! They did it 18 months earlier in Santa Clarita. Heck, the little people share everything in our family. Jen -- have you figured out what we lifted from your suitcase yet?! Better install some locks on your closet door before we visit in March.

The last picture here is of my brother, his wife and my niecelets, and his in-laws. We spend a lot of time with Cathy and Steve at Tahoe, where they live full-time, and were glad they joined in the full weekend of festivities with us. They truly are family.

The Luau

Much to my surprise, the gemelli agreed on a theme for their post-B'Not Mitzvah celebratory party: luau. One has the tendency to dress up while the other prefers to dress down. This worked for both and it also gave the guests a choice, too.

How hard could it be to outfit the four females in our family for this party? It was more challenging than you'd think. By contrast, Eldest Daughter and I had it easy. She found her dress in London, in the most beautiful Anthropologie I have ever seen. I bought mine at a boutique in Paris. Eldest Daughter's dress is so stunning that I'm going to lose 20 lbs and wear it to something. Dead serious.

Thing 1 is just picky and we easily bought and returned a half dozen dresses before she found "the one." I finally talked Thing 2 into wearing an Athleta dress of bathing suit material, very comfortable and casual. Then, at the last minute as we were dashing out to the party she decided to throw on a little dress she picked out on Catalina Island and I was so worn down by that point I just gave in even though it was strapless and I feared it would fall down. It didn't. (She apparently takes after Dave's side of the family.) It looked adorable and no one would ever know that it wasn't the original plan.

The party was held at the Danville Community Center adjacent to the library. This gave us both indoor and outdoor space. I wanted the adults to have some space away from the kids and also for the adult bar and kid bar to be at separate ends of the venue. 

We strung globe lights across the patio and added large Chinese lanterns. In the trees surrounding the patio we added twinkle Christmas lights and hung teeny tiny Chinese lantern on those, too. The tables had coverings in bright pink, orange, purple and red, and each was skirted with grass. Double orchids (we have twins) were in bamboo vases on each table.

Guests entered through an aisle bordered by 10' tall balloon palm trees and tiki torches. Passed h'ors d'oeuvres were Hawaiian meatballs and stuffed mushrooms for the adults, yellow M&Ms and gummy fish for the kids.

Adults had the option of mai tai's, Hawaiian beer, sodas, water or wine. Under 21s were offered Baja Blast, lemonade or water served from plastic pineapple and coconut cups.

The kids had their own luau lounge with couches and chairs. Over the summer Eldest Daughter made Hawaiian print throw pillows for them. There was also a photo booth, which you've already seen some fun pictures from.

Thing 1 made her grand entrance on a beach-towel-draped Cleopatra carrier. Thing 2 arrived standing on a surfboard. The DJ later told me that he'd never actually seen anyone stand on the surfboard before for an entrance. What a surprise -- my fearless kid was the first.

From there we launched into the Hora and the family going up on chairs individually. Something I love about the picture of Thing 1 at left is that one of our late additions is right in there helping. Our neighbors mentioned that they could only stay at the party a bit because their adult children and grandchildren were visiting for the weekend. As it turns out, we're friendly with their adult kids so I suggested they just bring them along. And they did!

The picture above of my mother-in-law and the gemelli dancing is spectacular, not just because of the look on Linda's face but because the photographer also captured my sister-in-law and Aunt Janice, my mother-in-law's sister, in it too.

September 6, 2014

This was Thing 1 and Thing 2's big day, the day they celebrated their entry into Jewish adulthood. We did the service at our house, in our backyard looking out at the golden foothills of Mt. Diablo.

On Friday came the deliveries: the 225 chairs, the risers, the chafing dishes, the sweets. It was surprisingly easy to fit all of those chairs in our yard. We'd planned to seat overflow in the family room, looking out to the yard, and also in our upstairs bedroom, overlooking the yard. The upstairs seating didn't end up being necessary but a few people did sit inside, presumably to get of of the direct sun. Fifty people were easily seated under the shade of the pavilion.

A few weeks earlier we'd had 200 people in the yard for a BBQ for local incoming San Diego State freshmen so we knew the space would work out fine. The weather, I wasn't so sure of until a few days prior when we saw that the forecast was for sunny skies and warm temps but not super hot temps. We were prepared for the sun with bottled water and sunscreen available to people as they entered and throughout the service. If it were a few degrees warmer, out would have come the soccer canopies!

I loved having this simcha at home and would recommend it. I created custom siddurs (prayer books) online then printed them out. This gave us the flexibility to include the songs and readings that were meaningful to us. The service was on the shorter side, perhaps 75 or 90 minutes, which was comfortable. We were able to video tape the service because it wasn't in a synagogue. Two guitars played by one rabbi and one rabbi's son provided beautiful music. Rabbi Rick encouraged people to get up and move around if they needed to get out of the sun or get water. That's another thing you can't easily do if you're in a synagogue.

The women in our family all wore white, which is traditional on shabbat. Shabbat is referred to as the Sabbath Bride.

My parents got Things 1 and 2 each a tallis, which they picked out on a shopping trip with my mom. You can see these prayer shawls in the pictures. Only Jewish adults can wear them.

Thing 1's d'var Torah (speech) was very funny because her section of the Torah portion included the laws around prostitution, which she didn't want to talk about. Nor did she want to talk about the conditions under which a man whose twig or berries are injured can enter a house of worship.  In case you're wondering, the answer is never. In the end and after some awkward moments and terse discussion, she decided to talk about the necessity of rules and how her portion was about things that, if made into a movie, she would not even be old enough to see it.

Thing 2's d'var Torah was about rules, too, and she let everyone know how ironic it was that her portion was about rules since she isn't very good at following them. The picture below at right is of Thing 2 reading from the Torah itself.

At the end of the service Eldest Daughter surprised her sisters with a pelting of wrapped candies thrown by the handful from the fists of guests with pent up energy from sitting still through the service. Thing 1 screamed and crawled under the bimah to get out of the line of fire. Then the little kids hopped up and gathered up all the candy to eat, pinata-style. The candy represents the sweetness of the occasion.

Rabbi Rick does the hamotzi in a way that everyone connects to each other -- physically. A few people hold the 4 foot long challah and then everyone touches a part of another person until everyone is attached. Then he leads the blessing and the challah gets ripped apart from every angle. Some families cut the challah into nice neat slices. We are a family of rippers and tearers. (In my opinion, the only reason to slice challah is if you are making French Challah for breakfast.) This particular challah had sprinkles on it, something that Dave feels strongly about. The blessing over the wine used wine we saved from Eldest Daughter's Bat Mitzvah four years earlier. Those of you who attended her Bat Mitzvah might remember that we used wine from our wedding for that.

A few of Thing 1's dance teammates are Jewish and it was neat to see them explaining the traditions to those not in the know. One of Thing 2's secular friends sat right up front so she could catch every last word. One Jewish adult friend, who should have known better, chatted with the person next to him throughout the service. Another napped. People brought young children who were not invited. The young children squirmed, as was age-appropriate. All but one of the great aunts and uncles came. My mom's siblings were in town for a full week so we were fortunate enough to spend additional time with them.

Immediately following the service we had a kiddush, which is light snacks. We served some of our favorite foods, including bagels, lox and cream cheese, strawberries, watermelon, chicken salad sandwiches, Claire's lemon cupcakes, my mother's three-layer brownies and my mother-in-law's fudge, almost none of which we got to eat because we were socializing and just being proud. People hung out for about an hour, the tween set popping picture after picture of themselves all dolled up.

At one point the little kids hopped in the neighbor's golf cart and attempted to drive down the street. Fortunately the rabbi's son, who is 16 and licensed, clued into this joy-ride-to-be and gave the littles a short ride to placate them.

Here's one especially good picture of the tweens.  Look how gorgeous this group is! That morning I'd asked Thing 2 to put on shoes. Apparently she went into my closet and took a pair of mine that matched her dress. I'm loving that we wear the same size shoes these days. One clever mom popped a similar picture and then turned it into a card prior to the party. Best card ever!

Fondling the Flowers

An early morning run to the San Francisco Flower Market with Jill and one of the Pinks. The summer solstice is only three weeks past so the sun is up by the time we arrive. We are the only ones still wiping sleep from our eyes. The vendors have been there for hours and the florists are long gone.

I come home with ribbon, bamboo in many forms, vases, cellophane bags and five varieties of cut flowers I don't need but can't resist.

On Tuesday I bring orange tulips to my client to celebrate her recent promotion. She gets all goopy on me.

My purchases join the tablecloths, paper goods and bottled water in our dining room, for the next two months the B'Not Mitzvah staging area.

It's past my bedtime.

I spent the month of July working with just one client so I've had a lot of time to hang with the kids and Dave. It's been great! Summer is the best time to have a light workload. I thought about tagging along for part of Neeracha's annual trip to Thailand but decided not to after learning that her sister came this year, too. It's one thing to crash your friend's exotic beach vacation, it's another to elbow your way in on a multi-generational family trip, one I'm sure her parents were really looking forward to.

One day we went to Cowell Beach with Paige and her tribe. There were more than 30 of us. They had extra wetsuits which enabled Thing 2 to boogie board for four hours straight. It was a good thing she ate pizza before getting in. The day was overcast and it even rained for a bit but that didn't stop the kids from going in and out of the water, trying to catch sea gulls and building sand castles. One of her twins drove down in our car and we sang show tunes.

Paige's family has beach days down to a well-oiled machine. They caravan. One picks up pizzas on the way in. Once the kids are fed and playing, someone else walks to The Picnic Basket and buys gourmet sandwiches for everyone else. Chairs are set up. Umbrellas are erected. Trashy magazines come out of beach bags. The laughter begins.

After the afternoon at the beach we hosed the kids off and went to the Boardwalk to take advantage of $1 Monday night rides and eat trash for dinner. We can't wait to go back!


Thing 1 spent most of July in dancing. Ballet. Technique. Team rehearsal. One of the moms brilliantly suggested that we take turns entertaining them between classes. On my day, pictured above, I took them to breakfast at Country Waffles. Another mom took them to the pool. Another day was Bagel Street Cafe. All around town you would see girls in buns traveling in packs. One day Thing 1 and I met a friend and her mom for breakfast at Chow.

Thing 2 wrapped up July in a lacrosse tournament. She even scored two goals while her grandparents were watching. We have a lot to learn about lacrosse but I like what I've seen so far.

I start working with a new client in early August, kicking off the project with a two-day meeting in Boston. Although it's a very quick trip with a packed agenda, I can't wait. I miss business travel.

In the Beginning

Eldest Daughter and I headed to London and Paris for Spring Break this year. My close friend and her family moved to London and I both missed her terribly and had also not been to London in 19 years.

In all seriousness, the best parts of this trip were the little moments: the observations Eldest Daughter and I had while seeing the cities through a different viewfinder, really catching up with my friend and her husband while walking their dog, seeing how happy their son is at university, the tulips in bloom. Their home is in Kensington, and while in the middle of it all, was far enough off of Tourist Central to recover from the frenzy of seeing Westminster Abby, the Tower of London, London Bridge, Buckingham Palace and the London Eye.

While Eldest Daughter slept in the first day, my friend and I took a tour of the five West London Sunday markets. Ruth, our Context Travel docent (I swear by Context Travel!), told us how the city grew and changed in this area, first with the arrival of the Hugonots then the Jews, thus explaining the proliferation of markets on Sundays. I wish we'd had more time at Spidalfield's Market and at the Columbia Road Flower Market. Her son, Eldest Daughter and the husband (who is also my friend) met us for lunch at the Sunday Up Market off of Brick Lane where I ate the best fish and chips ever made and they ate Ethiopian and Venezualan food. The son gave us a tour of his school.

Not far from there is Shoreditch and Boxpark, a funky area with live music and stores in shipping containers. That was fun, visually interesting. Eldest Daughter bought a gorgeous sundress. We then went to the flagship Top Shop store on Oxford Circus. Top Shop = Nordstrom Brass Plum. After helping the economy there we did the same at Miss Selfridge's. Bonus points to the husband for shopping with us. And for finding Pierre Herme, which I'll cover in another post.

Eldest Daughter and I explored Knightsbridge and Chelsea, went to the theatre (she chose Mamma Mia, which was well done except for the woman who played Donna singing off key half of the time), ate lunch in restaurants every day, and took in the sights at a leisurely pace. We found the house where The Parent Trap was filmed. We had tea at The Orangerie at Kensington Palace, the same palace where Kate, George and Will make their home.

We climbed the London Bridge and saw the exhibits there then walked along the Thames past Shakespeare's Globe Theatre and crossed back on the Millenium footbridge at the Tate Modern. We toured Westminster Abbey, built in 1245 and seemingly not given a thorough cleaning since, filled with so much history that we stayed far longer than we had planned. We saw the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. 

On our last night there we went for a drink at Oblix, on the 33rd floor of The Shard, a Renzo Piano-designed building in the London Bridge District and which has views city-wide. And then I cried myself to sleep knowing I wouldn't see our friends again until summer, when they visit the US.

Great visit. Too short.

Go Team Oracle!

One of our neighbors, Tracy Allen, throws the to-die-for Halloween party each year. This year Dave and I were part of a group costume. As one who generally finds more comfort in solo activities, I really enjoyed this! We had a brilliant idea -- Team Oracle. And it was easy to outfit given the recent America's Cup victory.

The cup was part of a tea service. A magnum of champs was another prop. We brought our attitude. We were comfortable in our tennies and danced and danced and danced. It's been a long time since I had so much fun at a huge social gathering.

Although our costumes were the best (no bias there!), Tracy and her beau Matt Yaden were fabulous in their pink loofah and Mr. Bubbles outfits. The Halloween costume du jour appeared to be the Duck Dynasty Family.

Happy Halloween!

I am twelve. Again.

Two incidents occurred last week that sent me right back to age 12. Both incidents could have been avoided had the people who instigated them put on their big girl panties and taken a less comfortable approach.

One of The Pinks had an "I am 12 Moment" last week, too, even though she's only 11. We pinky swore to both get over it quickly and focus on more important things. 

Because I work outside the home and outside of the leafy suburban bubble in which I live, I spend my days with a cross-section of people. Men don't ever seem to revert to age 12. Men, in a gross and broad generalization, care far less if people like them. Our culture rewards them for strong, leadership behavior. Women want to be liked. Sheryl Sandberg writes extensively about this in Lean In.

Many years ago Neeracha had a job in M&A. She told me that the first time she exited someone she ran into the bathroom afterwards and threw up. After six months of this she told me that she could literally be sitting at her desk eating a sandwich while telling someone that their job was eliminated. Progress.

Working more than 20 years in tech has given me a fairly thick skin. Still, I'm irritated when smart women don't have the hard conversations. If they aren't working for a paycheck, great, that's their personal choice.  I applaud them for their decision. However, use your brains, use your power for good, people! These are the same women who don't step up to leadership roles in their children's schools, their churches and their community at large because they are afraid of conflict. They leave the hard stuff to others. What a missed opportunity. What a waste of talent.

Ironman

We woke up to a light drizzle in Tahoe on Saturday morning. Two sets of twins plus a singleton dressed in ski clothes. Paige and I threw on whatever warm clothes were left and piled the litter into the car and headed to the Treetop Adventure Park at Granlibakken. Rain or shine, we were going ziplining. Although it was cold and wet, it was not as cold and wet as our athlete friends were going to be the next day during the inaugural Lake Tahoe Ironman. That kept us going as the drizzle turned into a full downpour.

In case you need a refresher, an Ironman is a 2.4 miles swim followed by a 112 mile bike ride followed by a marathon. I've always thought it extreme. After seeing one I think the willing participants do have more than a few loose screws.

The Adventure Park is well done and we can't wait to go back on a warm day. It's a series of ropes courses and you are harnessed in. Tori, Monkey Girl, loved every minute of it because she left her fear gene down in the Bay.

A full downpour at elevation 6500 F means snow not too much higher. And we were not disappointed by the beautiful snow that followed. The Ironpeople, not so thrilled. I choose to believe that this is a sign for an early and wet winter. In all, this storm brought four inches of snow to the upper mountain.

We had five friends compete in the Ironman and all five finished. That is an amazing feat given that 20% of the people who started the race did not finish.

Squaw was Ironman Central so we were well-situated for the fanfare. On Sunday, race day, we positioned ourselves at the bike to run transition and then four times along the marathon course, which passed through the Village twice. We also saw all five friends finish. These athletes began at 6:30am and the fastest, a multiple-time Ironwoman, finished in 12 hours, 30 minutes.

Yes, we were still warm in our beds when these crazy people started and finished the swim. In fact, I'd say we'd only progressed to drinking our Starbucks in our PJs (fetched by some subset of the five girls) while most participants got the first 50 miles under their wheels. By the end of the day I was grateful for my peaceful, caffeinated start.

Although I'm know that competing is stressful and that this next part is going to make me eligible for the Super Ninnie Award, we didn't have much downtime once the participants started passing through the valley. It is a lot of work tracking five athletes online and then taking the right poster to the right spots on the course, watching for them, and then screaming until you are hoarse. I had no energy left to drive home Sunday night -- the kids and I were completely spent -- so we left Monday morning.

It is a beautiful thing to become an Ironman, one that our friend Sherman Chu got talked into by a childhood friend and achieved with a dance across the finish line and then tears streaming down his face. I am in awe of him, our other friends and frankly, all the participants. It is an enormous physical and mental challenge. We saw lots of people quit after the bike ride. And lots of people being assisted off the course in various forms of distress. This race, at elevation and with an especially punishing bike ride, had the slowest finish times and highest DNF rates of any Ironman event this year.

The very last picture here is my favorite - us cheering on Sherman at T2. His smile is genuine and the emotions on all of our faces are raw, pure joy at the being in the moment of achievement.

One other thing of note. There are two routes from the Village to our condo. One passes in front of the Olympic House, between it and the Cable Car building. The other passes around the back, the mountain side, the side with the ski lifts and sun deck. After we cheered our last friend across the finish line and gave him the requisite and well-deserved praise, Paige and I headed back to the condo to meet up with the kids. Brilliant moi suggested we take the mountain route. While we were the only ones walking that way and it was unlit, the Village, not 1/4 mile away, easily had 2,500 people mulling around and very loud music playing. As it turned out, Paige and I were not alone after all: I spotted a bear climbing a tree not even 10 yards from us. I then proceeded to forget everything my father taught me about being in the wild and screamed BEAR!! as I high-tailed it toward to condo door. Paige followed suit, trying to outrun me because, in the end, only the slowest person gets eaten.

July

I spent the month of July working with just one client so I've had a lot of time to hang with the kids and Dave. It's been great! Summer is the best time to have a light workload. I thought about tagging along for part of Neeracha's annual trip to Thailand but decided not to after learning that her sister came this year, too. It's one thing to crash your friend's exotic beach vacation, it's another to elbow your way in on a multi-generational family trip, one I'm sure her parents were looking forward to.

One day we went to Cowell Beach with Paige and her tribe. There were more than 30 of us. They had extra wetsuits which enabled Tori to boogie board for four hours straight. It was a good thing she ate pizza before getting in. The day was overcast and it even rained for a bit but that didn't stop the kids from going in and out of the water, trying to catch sea gulls and building sand castles. One of her twins drove down in our car and we sang show tunes.

Paige's family has beach days down to a well-oiled machine. They caravan. One picks up pizzas on the way down. Once the kids are fed and playing, someone else walks to The Picnic Basket and buys gourmet sandwiches for everyone else. Chairs are set up. Umbrellas are erected. Trashy magazines come out of beach bags. The laughter begins.

After the afternoon at the beach we hosed the kids off and went to the Boardwalk to take advantage of $1 Monday night rides and eat trash for dinner. We can't wait to go back!


Liberty spent most of July in dancing. Ballet. Technique. Team rehearsal. One of the moms brilliantly suggested that we take turns entertaining them between classes. On my day, pictured above, I took them to breakfast at Country Waffles. Another mom took them to the pool. Another day was Bagel Street Cafe. All around town you would see girls in buns traveling in packs. One day Liberty and I met a friend and her mom for breakfast at Chow.

Tori wrapped up July in a lacrosse tournament. She even scored two goals while her grandparents were watching. We have a lot to learn about lacrosse but I like what I've seen so far.

I start working with a new client in early August, kicking off the project with a two-day meeting in Boston. Although it's a very quick trip with a packed agenda, I can't wait. I miss business travel.

Summer means peaches.

Paige and I hauled our two sets of twins to Brentwood today to pick peaches. I'd only picked peaches once before and strangely, she picked the same place Dave and I had taken the kids five years earlier.

The peaches were just as good as I remembered and we came home with 5x as many as we did in 2008. Seriously. 50 lbs. We went a little crazy. But they just tempt you, the rosy orbs clinging to leafy branches within easy reach. Fortunately The Pinks are old enough to look through cookbooks for recipes now and bake with me!

The pool. The lake. The river.

Three perfect days at Tahoe.

Day 1 we spent with friends, first at the Truckee 4th of July Parade and then at Northstar. The Truckee Parade is very sweet, it's what Danville's was before it got huge and crazy and commercial. We got there 20 minutes before it started, sat down in the shade and enjoyed the mountain-style patriotism. It lasted an hour and that was just right.

Day 2 was spent with Barry's extended family and friends at Dollar Point. We kayaked on the lake for the first time and Paris, Tori and I just loved it. I can't wait to do it again. There's a certain peacefulness out there on the water.

Day 3 was our biennial raft down the Truckee River, this time with two other families. It was hot but not too hot. It was also crowded, which makes for lots of water-gun fights, within our clan and impromptu with others doing the same thing. It was a good, wholesome day enjoying the best of Tahoe.

On Day 4 we packed up and came home. This is starting to sound biblical. I started missing the mountains the minute we crossed Donner Summit. En route home we stopped at Machado Orchards for pies and produce. Usually we stop at Ikeda, across the highway. Machado is lesser-known, smaller and cleaner, without the attached greasy spoon and bathroom line. The kids ate all of the peaches I bought before we got home and we're going to try the peach pie after dinner tonight.

Dave shot the picture at left with his iPhone on Day 1 from the Village at Squaw. You can see the low clouds and then the amazing sunset. I've never seen anything like this. It just makes you wonder what a DSLR could have done here.

Girl walks into a bar.

Jen Pockell-Wilson and I giggled like young schoolgirls when we were waiting for Kim Drew. At The Ship, no less, an ale house at the corner of Battery and Pacific in San Francisco dating back to 1851, two years into the Gold Rush.

Girl walks into the bar. Her smile could easily span the 8-state-divide which usually separates us. She is blonde curls and turquoise eyes and Jen and I attach ourselves to her with a death grip for the rest of the evening.

Fortunately Jen and I are with good men, men who knew their role was to keep Kim's husband occupied while the three of us chattered nonstop on topic ranging from attachment parenting (we are way over it) to discipline (we are fans of it) to other Feb Moms (proud of our nationally ranked triathlete). Jen and Kim have the same quick, biting sense of humor. I am good at laughing.

The six of us ate mostly cow at 5A5 and took advantage of the last few days of foie gras' availability in California. Our visitors were quite adventurous and tried taco (octopus) salad and the lychee and berry palate cleanser.

Flying over Singapore

When you read this I really will be flying over Singapore en route to meet up with Dave in Shanghai. But this post is not about that flight. It's about the Singapore Flyer, which Hillary, her 6-year-old daughter, and I did last night.

The Singapore Flyer is the world's largest Giant Observation Wheel. There are 28 air-conditioned capsules the size of transit buses, each able to hold 28 people. It takes 30 minutes to complete a rotation. It sits 165 meters tall and is just four years old.

We timed it for sunset and it was worth the wait until the end of my trip. Today the sun came out and we saw some blue skies. It was also miserably hot, at least for someone like me who is not used to the intense sun coupled with humidity in the 90th percentile.

From the Flyer we could see as far as Indonesia. The cargo ships stretched out as far as the eye could see. In 2011 the port of Singapore processed 57 million containers. Amazing! We could see hundreds of cranes which unload the containers, the ones that look like those two-legged walkers called AT-ST's from The Empire Strikes Back.

The Theatres on the Bay at the Esplanade are called Durian by the locals because the domes look like the spiky fruit. And the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, the one with the casino up top and the much-photographed infinity pool 55 stories up, stands alone. There's also a DNA-inspired double-helix curved bridge over Marina Bay.

 The architecture in Singapore is eye candy. The economy in Singapore is booming and there is much new construction going on. Hillary told me that they don't renovate in Singapore, they bulldoze and rebuild. Much attention is paid to outside spaces and art, and it's a visual delight. I especially like the chubby Buddhas by Taiwanese sculptor Li Chen.

The air is as thick as paint.

And it's raining, too. It's not the cool, reluctant, gentle rain we get in California. The downpour was loud enough to wake me through the double-paned windows of my hotel room and is so intense that I can't see across the street. It's warm. The drains can't take the water away fast enough so I'm toe deep in it as I walk. It's windy and the water comes at me from all angles. I'm drenched and not cold. The experience is like taking a tepid shower.

I'm glad to be in Singapore.

Hillary's happy face greeted me at the airport and off we went into the heavy air. We dropped my bags at the hotel and exchanged goodies. She received six American magazines, Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies, Kraft Mac & Cheese, earrings and books for her first grader. I received a sun umbrella, hand sanitizer, three types of bottled water, almonds and the local paper. We giggled like school girls and went back out into the moist air.

Exactly where do these go on an Apple device?

Lunch was in the food court at the Ion Orchard Mall. There were more than 50 food stalls on the lower floor and, while my lunch was deliberately forgettable in deference to my stomach that didn't know what time zone it was on, I was fascinated with the decor: eclectic chandeliers, sculpture, food presentation, bright colors. And people eating ambidextrously while simultaneously talking.

The economy on this island is built around shipping; Singapore's position between Malaysia and Indonesia make it one of the world's busiest ports. There are few natural resources here so nearly all goods are imported. Spending money seems to be the main form of entertainment. The part of the city I've seen thus far is store after store after store. Ion Orchard is Paris' every fantasy, 300 retailers spanning all price points: Forever 21, Abercrombie, an all Havianas store, a store with just smart phone earphones, stores devoted to just iPhone cases, Converse, Kate Spade, Dunkin Donuts.

Singapore is an easy place to visit, perhaps because English is spoken here. Perhaps because Hillary is my tour guide. Perhaps because I've traveled in Asia before.

Boo hoo on Jason Wu

This is Caryl Lyons on Sunday morning. I convinced Caryl to accompany me to Target, where we planned to be amongst the first to see the new Jason Wu Collection.

The first Target we visit doesn't carry the line. We drive ten miles further. And there we discover that serious Jason Wu Wannabees queued up an hour before the store opened and then picked it clean.

When we arrived, at 9:05a, the parking lot was nearly deserted and the selection was down to one slim rack showing only the uglies and rumpled things retrieved from the dressing room floor.

We got a good laugh out of our adventure and meandered down the makeup and home decor aisles.

The funniest part was that Liberty, who was in Hebrew class, somehow got online and commented on a picture Caryl had just uploaded to Instagram. "I see my mom in the background!" Busted.

Ho Ho. There's no snow.

We're at Tahoe this week. It's tradition. We come as soon as school breaks for the holidays then stay until Christmas. The crowds descend on Tahoe the 26th and by then we're on our way home, watching the cars creep up Hwy 80.

This year is different. The air is still crisp. Our neighbors are here. The shops and Village buildings are done up in their seasonal best. But one thing is missing: snow.

It's been a nearly dry year. There are three chair lifts open thanks to aggressive snow-making efforts. The ski teams dominate them. It feels a little bit off, like when you accidentally put your shirt on backwards.

The new facilities at Squaw are beautiful. I spent one morning working in the Olympic House. There are new cushy pleather chairs, strong wifi and an expanded menu at Wildflower that now includes a hearty, mountain-style breakfast and lunch. Man cannot live on those cookies alone, as addicting as they are. There are big screen TVs and a children's play area. And big, clean windows looking out on the now-barren mountains. The KT-22 deck has private cabanas and three large fire pits with Adirondack chairs.

The Harvey clan just departed after two days with us. I'm glad they skied with us; this proves we're not fair weather friends as the last time we met up with the whole entourage was in the record-breaking temps in Villa Bartolomea last summer. My parents came up last night. My brother and his family arrive this afternoon.

We skied at Alpine Meadows yesterday and the conditions were better than I'd envisioned. There was a fair amount of open intermediate terrain and, although we shared it with the crazy snowboarders, we had a good day skiing as a family. Squaw and Alpine are now co-owned so our passes work at both resorts and there is a shuttle bus connecting the two until the chair is finished next summer.

Now if only it would snow.

SOS - Save our Schools!

Yesterday was Mike Cannon's last day as vice principal at our middle school. Monday he starts his new job as principal at a much larger middle school two towns north of here. I am happy for him professionally and personally, and I am also saddened at our school district's loss of this talented administrator.

From the outside, it does not seem like being a middle school vice principal would be fun. All those hormones. Discipline. Logistics.

I met Mike about a year ago when he helped me with logistics for the Rachel Simmons Curse of the Good Girl lecture. As it turns out, he lives in the same neighborhood as my brother and they're friendly. I've gotten to know his family and they're good stock, the kind of people you want around.

We have a new principal at our elementary school this year and she appears to be doing as little as possible to get by. I've spoken with our PTA president, other parents and the school district about this and am hopeful the district will address those in time for her to make an impact. She's got a tough job -- her two predecessors were both strong, opinionated women who didn't back away from a challenge. Fortunately the youngest Pinks have good teachers this year and that will affect them far more than the principal.

We intentionally live in a community with stellar schools. Yet I'm disappointed in these two recent events. We could private school our children but we don't want to. Dave and I are products of public schooling, all the way through college, and are advocates of it. This is what keeps me awake at night.

Happily Ever After

Dave and I spent last weekend with friends, both old and new.

We drove down to Monterey Friday night and spent the night with Dennis and Margo Donahue. They live in Pasadera, on the golf course, and their life revolves around golf. Dennis fired up the grill and we had steaks and salad, and a lot of wine was consumed.

Turn back the clock 16 years. My alarm clock went off at 4:30am on a Saturday morning. Margo and her ex-husband Mark Bercaw pulled up in our driveway at 5:00am and off we went for an overnight ski trip to Kirkwood. Margo and Mark drove from San Carlos so they were easily up at 3:30a. We got to the mountain as the lifts opened, skied all day, and apres-ski Dave, Mark and I collapsed on couches in the rental condo. Margo then made an amazing dinner of Chicken Piccata and salad. Sixteen years later I still remember the meal. I still remember that she made it after little sleep, driving 4 hours, and skiing all day. That's Margo.

The Margo I saw Friday night is still working her way back to normal after two miserable years of illness. Although I've seen her several times during the last few years it still threw me.

Saturday morning we hopped on the 101 south to Solvang for Andy and Angela DeSomma's wedding nearby. The day could not have been more perfect for a wedding: it was 80F and sunny with a slight breeze. The wedding was at the Gainey Vineyard Ranch in Santa Ynez and it was one of those rustic ranch style weddings Martha Stewart popularized.

The place cards were tiny clusters of flowers in salt shaker vases. The favors were lavender potpourri and Jordan almonds that the Andy's mom brought back from France. Many of the floral arrangements were in mason jars. There bathrooms were labeled Cowgirl and Cowboy. And best of all, dinner was Santa Maria BBQ! Dessert was It's Its. Divine!

Andy is a friend of Dave's, someone I've met just a few times. What struck me most about the event was how fabulous Andy's friends are. They were nearly all from his prep school, college and finance-industry days. Each one was smarter, nicer and more inclusive than the next.

Solvang, the Danish enclave in central California established in the early 1900s, is as kitschy as I remember it from childhood. We were there less than 24 hours and tried three bakeries.