An Araiza 4th of July

click on slideshow below!

4th of July 2008

Patrick's daughter has been singing "Amazing Grace" off and on all day - it touches me and she doesn't even know it. We just got back spending the lovely 4th of July afternoon at my Uncle Alex and Aunt Peggy's beautiful home in Mt. Helix, La Mesa. We were there last year as well (see blog here) and had such a great time that we made it a family reunion this year. Thus, the Northern Cal Araizas all flew down and we started it off by 15 of us meeting at a lovely outdoor wine bar in Point Loma last night. I love my cousins so much and am so proud of all of them - they are truly beautiful inside and out. To see where they are now, after growing up and spending so much time with them as kids and teens really brings warmth into my heart.

 

Today, I spent the first 45 minutes of the party muddling, preparing and passing out mojitos since I announced I really know how to make them (I also don't cook much, so I opted to bring the booze - sigh). The food was as usual amazing - with scrumptious feta-cheese dips, pasta salad, green salad with fruit and for the carnivores - grilled carne and pollo asado. Ummmm....

If all the talking and laughing and eating wasn't enough we also spent a lot of time at the pool where the kids, especially, spent about 6 hours straight before they were made to come out, wrinkled as prunes.

 

Having my cousins, their spouses, my Uncle Al and Aunt Peggy who drove out from Oklahoma, not to mention my dear cousin Leslie who is 4 weeks away from having her 2nd son (and still can manage to look stylish and gorgeous) - - it was truly a happy day for me. I am always so proud to bring Patrick and Ciara to the Araiza clan, and everyone is so good to Ciara and makes sure she fits in with all the nieces and nephews.

 

That is love, ya'll. That is decency... Even in this year of religious scandal and hype present in the War and in our Presidential race it is very encouraging to me to know that God still lives in and does right by many in America. May God Bless our beautiful country, the USA. :)

The Bikram Yoga Experiment - The Conclusion

If you read my blog last week, you understand that I was going to take a week worth of classes of the very hot Bikram Yoga since my knee and hip injuries were acting up and I couldn't do regular exercise.

Well, I completed 6 days out of 7 of the Bikram classes at the Kearny Mesa location. I only took off Friday because I was working a lot like that day and my injured left leg was feeling weak and needed a break.

These are my results - a loss of 5 pounds of water weight. A definite toning of the stomach and lower back area. My knee is doing much better and I feel fabulous over all. It was hard work - it takes a lot of time being a 1.5 hour class and I hate feeling that sweaty over all, and, yes, the room smells of musty, stinky sneakers... but I cannot deny how awesome I feel after 1 week. I really do believe it is the best kind of yoga out there, the heat just allows your body to stretch further than I've ever been able to. It's hard work, no doubt, but I am so glad I got through it.

Runway is "All About the Kids"

 

Even with my bad knee injury I've managed to limp through several Spring Runway shows. I decided to document some of them in my journal/blog since one day as I'm older and gray(er) I figure my kids (or cats) might want to know about some of the colorful things I've done in my life.

This particular show last March was for the charity, "It's All about the Kids" - that helps 600 disadvantaged youth in San Diego. My teaching for several years in poorer areas of SD definitely has made me aware of just how disadvantaged these kids are in comparison with so many of their peers - although they all have top of the line cell phones and IPODS that I don't have - shoot.

With a Brazilian Carnaval theme, the party took place at millionaire Jonathon Schiff's ocean side mansion in La Jolla. Being in a home, we did not have a normal catwalk, but had to model down a flight of stairs (ugh - how DO beauty pageant gals DO that without looking down??!!) and then onto a small elevated square room that was open on 2 sides so the crowd gathered to watch us.

 

A Brazilian-themed party meant teeny/tight swimtrunks for...thank GOD - the boys -- and not us women (phew!) Seeing the smoothly-waxed Wade and Scott strutting it without a care in the world brought back memories of when I brought my ex-Italian boyfriend Mik - lover of his own physique and teeny speedos - to LA to watch me in a runway show and he ended up being cast in it last-minute by the same gay producer, Leonard Simspon, who did this show. Leonard made Mik (who didn't flinch) strip to his bikini undies to study his body (oh yes he did-gay snap!) and after having him turn around and stared a bit he cut him from the speedo portion of that show (to Mik's chagrin) because he wasn't tanned evenly and he wasn't waxed - la la ha ha! Poor Mik, he's actually not that hairy, but one doesn't want to see soccer-short tan lines, nor nipple or under-belly-button hair on the runway. :P

 

My smooth-voice friend, Stephanie June, a host and producer of ShindyTV was there and got great coverage of the show. To check it out, click on link here.

And click below for slide show of runway pictures!

"It's Alll About the Kids" Runway

Jordy Spreads the Love

  My tabby cat, Jordy - whom, on a couple occasions I thought would be the only living thing I could count on loving and staying by my side no matter what (ha ha ha) has easily transitioned to Casa Merritt.
  A cat that used to run from children, Jordy in his older age has submitted to Ciara - well not every time she wants him, but once in a while he'll actually sleep on her bed with her - giving her a thrill.
  But who he loves even more than Fred-the-Bassett is my beau, Patrick. Or rather, he loves Patrick's lap and penchant for wearing jeans. Perhaps it's also the fact that P sits a lot at home: on computer, watching his political shows (Fox news - blehh) or playing 'Halo' against my brother (also in his 40s) Gabe.
  So as you can see by the pictures, there are plenty of lap time opportunities with P - who I must admit, isn't totally thrilled with his new duty. But when Jordy is happy - I am happy. And that cat deserves so much for my dragging him around to 6 new homes in as many years.

The Bikram Experiment

  Unfortunately last Friday I re injured my bad knee injury from January that has been responsible for me being able to hardly work out the past 6 months and a 6-pound weight gain - not to mention having a lot of pain and limping.  It seems I can't ignore that this reoccuring injury is fairly serious and I need to rethink my exercising (again). So since I can't do cardio I decided to try an experiment and do a 7-day round of Bikram Yoga. Now, I have gone on 2 occasions before over a year ago to Bikram yoga - see blog here. It is the 1.5 hour class (which is hard enough just being that long) and executed in 120 degree heat and humidity.
  Having said that, today is #3 and I feel like a million bucks having sweat and stretched out bad toxins, aches and stiffness. My knee does bother me on some of the poses in class - that I have to manipulate a bit, but I am amazed that it's holding up as well as it is for the difficulty. I highly recommend yoga and pilates to anyone - the 2 have changed my life in the last 7 years of reducing/annihilating stress and chronic pain. The mental benefits of strength and relaxation have also been beneficial to me and my up and down lifestyle. It's not cheap, but I highly recommend it and hope it to be something I can do all the while through my old age.

P loosens up at STIFF Concert

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While I have music and concerts on my mind, I decided to blog about a concert Patrick and I went to a few weeks ago at the House of Blues. It was one of his favorite Punk bands, Stiff Little Fingers, from his region of Northern Ireland.

The evening started out on a good note - while we were waiting in line to buy tickets there, a gal suddenly came up waving 2 and said, "I've got free tickets!" We were too slow (probably from shock) and the 20-something kid in front of us snatched them to find out a couple minutes later that there were 2 concerts going on that night and he was attending the other one. So his friend turned to us and said, "You can have them, they aren't for our concert." But the taller one who first snatched them literally held onto them for a few seconds and we could just see him greedily adding up in his mind how much he could sell them to us for. Please - the concert was around $20 bucks. And not selling out, so he wasn't going to make anything from us. The shorter friend read his mind, and ordered, "Dude - just give them the tickets!" Which he did - begrudgingly.

So we happily entered and ordered a drink while people-watching before the show started. One could see a few aged punks in the crowd of dressed-in-black alternative kids and T-shirt wearing men like P in their 40s. (note - I wore jeans and a dark t-shirt too, but I am sure I stood out by a mile he he he). There weren't many women there, let's just say.

I love Patrick's stories from growing up in Ireland and he commented to me that when he was about 12 or 13, the older boys about 16 would come up to all the young boys and demand to know if they liked and followed "Stiff Little Fingers". And if the 12 year old was naive or for some reason didn't like punk and answered, "no", then the older boys would punch and slug him. Let's just say that the Irish (especially those in Northern occupied Ireland) seemed very loyal of their region's great punk band.

At last the band came out and started - P, had, of course seen them a few times previously. I have to admit for some older guys they could strum some seriously quick guitar licks but it was not without raised eyebrow that the band looked vastly different than their heyday - see video above. The lead singer Jake even joked about it, "Now we're fat and 50!"

Still, the crowd really enjoyed it, and I am not above enjoying the music and atmosphere. Very interestingly was P pointing out the dynamics of the mosh pit. As the concert first started there were about 5 guys center and up front who were doing the 'pogo' jumping-up-and-down dance that punk invented. Halfway through the concert and with the alcohol starting to be felt they switched to moshing on the popular songs. As I commented to P having seen one mo-hawked, angry-looking 40ish punk, 'That one punk has been waiting all night to start moshing."

It was true. And here was where P pointed out the dynamics of the pit. He noted how no one really was pushing or slamming into Mo-Hawk because he was obviously OG (original) and not there to play. He was violent and probably wouldn't care if he hurt someone or got hurt himself. That said, the younger boys and 1 girl who were also moshing on an adrenaline high were running around in the small circle pushing each other excitedly - but not out for blood. Meanwhile, the rest of the standing crowd - like us - served as a barrier and anytime anyone fell out of step of the mosh circle, the barrier would just push them back in.

On the final encore of the night, SLF played P's favorite song (the video above) and in the blink of an eye he disappeared from my side to ....join the pit!!!! I was half-screaming and half-laughing as I stood on tippy toes desperately trying to keep an eye on his bobbing head in the circle of violence. "NOOOOOOO!" It was hilarious to see him do something I'd heard stories about when he was a teen but to see my man at 41 pushing and slamming into others and then eventually losing sight of him altogether was just awesome!! he he he

When he returned to me triumphantly he was breathing heavily, and soaked with sweat - I hate to admit that it wasn't just his sweat on him. When we got home Fred-the-basset was intrigued by all the different smells of sweat on his owner and heavily sniffed him from head to foot, thus also partaking in our entertaining evening of fine Irish punk music. :P

I heart George Michael

4 Words: He's still got it. Last night I attended George Michael's kick-off American tour at the Sports Arena. With my friend Richele in tow we joined the many gay men and older crowd of 40-50 year olds. We never saw anyone younger than us - which amazed us - I mean, I wasn't expecting 20 year olds to be there- but definitely some more 30-somethings like us...he he he.

But let's get to the real details. Just who is George Michael in my life? Well, he is a pop icon whom I have consistently admired since 7th grade and the uber-smash Wham! "Make it Happen" debut album of George and partner (err, musical partner) Andy.

With his fabulous smile, thick mane of dyed dirty-blonde hair and thick horizontal wrinkle that was already present between his dark Lebanese eyes at 19 - George, along with Michael J. Fox, Harrison Ford and Simon Le Bon of Duran Duran helped me through puberty. Oh... and the cute guy from "16 Candles"...hehehe.In any case, this man has had a string of hits throughout the 80s with Wham and then as a solo artist continuing through the 90s with his thought-provoking album, "Listen Without Prejudice". Yes, I admit to teasing along with siblings Sara and Benjy at his incredibly gay video, "Wake me up before you go-go" - - which is ironic, as I mused with Richele over some champagne cocktails before the show - - that it is so obvious that he showed gayness (and I am not just referring to those 2-toned Dove short shorts he wore in the video), since the beginning - and yet, he was, IS, so sexy, with sexy, intimate ballads and sensual videos that me and most women easily joined the troops of international admirers and fans.

As far as the show last night. It started a half-hour late which caused me concern for George that he might have been stressing out - - he's had a tough last few years with alcohol, drugs, relationships, coming out and depression. But then the show opened with a superb stage complete with a visual multi-media setting of 3 screens that alternated between video clips, him singing in present time at the concert, and stunning filmwork of nature, space, stars, lights, and, models, fashion and dancers - beautiful men and women graceful dancers. I...loved....it. Had he an image of a galloping Arabian horse in there somewhere it pretty much would have encompassed almost everything that moves me.

As for the man? Well, pushing 50 - he still looks (bite the hand) damn good! His jawline is supreme as usual and whether or not doing his spirited one-hand clapping against the microphone or dancing his sensual moves - this man has STILL GOT IT and then some. And when I say that - - I say that with the respect and admiration that he earns from me for taking some serious hits personally, physically and mentally, and even risking alienating many of his fan base by coming out.

George Michael looked sincerely happy. Like he was truly enjoying himself and truly appreciative of the supportive crowd. And even more so appreciative of "those of us who still knew his work after his "Faith" album" - which was wildly successful and the height of his popularity and sexuality.

As much as I love and loved hearing his earlier work from the 80s and the flood of nostalgia of my feelings of torment as a younger teen; I have since truly admired his skills as a songwriter and singer in his last 3 recent albums. His perfectly named, "Older", as well as "Patience" are full of jazz-inspired, quietly sensitive and thoughtful ballads along with danceable tunes for fans half his age - - just showing how much he'd grown and how many genres of music and styles he could sing and write in.

Hands down, this was tied for first the best concert I've ever gone too. The crowd stood and danced almost the entire time - yes, even to his newer gay-club music - - who can resist those beats??!! And the quiet moments where he sat on alone on a stool and sang, "Careless Whisper", "Father Figure" and "Kissing a Fool" where absolute sentimental and gorgeous gems of live performance.

Mentioning that he saw on "the teley" that day that gays can marry now in California he landed the largest amount of thunderous applause of the entire evening. I am so pleased that I got to see him, since he hasn't toured in America in 15 years and he says this will be his last tour period. Not only a pop icon of my beloved 80s music, but a true singer/songwriter, my hats off to him. I remember years ago my older sister, Sylvia, commenting that few pop singers actually have good voices. Truly good voices. And then she went on to think about it and said, "George Michael can really sing". In today's world of pop singers whose careers last 2 years and lip sync in their concerts, George Michael's integrity as a true musician stands clear and still sets him apart from so many.

E is Jonesin'....

 That is right. I am seriously jonesin' for a trip, a getaway, a little time with Mother Nature. I haven't had a trip since April's quicky road trip to Death Valley and I feel my life-force dropping low as here we are almost in July and although I keep pitching great, or cheap trips to my man - - we've got nothing set in concrete.
  None of this should surprise loyal readers or people who know me - as the only thing I do spend money on is taking trips out in Nature.
  Here are some pics that P barely sent me from his camera on our most fabulous road trip last summer up the California coastline to the Big Sur.
  What you see here is an illegal fire, after-hours on the beach - we were all alone - making this gorgeous evening one of the most magical memories in my life...

Jordy and Fred: BFF

 

Merging two families can have its challenges. But Jordy-the-Cat and Fred-the-Basset are doing just fine.... :)

Oh...yeah

Now there are 2 coming in....

Our Newest Pet

Cheengow - this baby opossum appeared a couple weeks ago chomping Fred and Jordy's food - INSIDE the house, ya'll!!!!

He easily entered through the open doggy/kitty door that Patrick made by taking out a glass pane in the backdoor that leads out to the tiny patio where Fred does his business.
Well, shoot - after the initial "ohh and aww" about how cute he is as a baby and the quick online reference check to see if they carry rabies or who knows what else - we learned that opossums are NOT rodents, but marsupials (think kangaroo). Nifty, huh? We also found out that they are non-confrontational and very wimpy so they even play dead and collapse for up to hours playing dead and emitting a foul smell from their booty that makes bigger animals leave them alone and not eat them. WOW - how smart is that?

So, tonite while alone with Jordy-the-cat and Fred-the-Basset-Hound (Patrick took Ciara to Magic Mountain while I have to stay and work all weekend as usual), I kept hearing that little sucker enter in and crack away at the food. But every time I got up he'd run out the door. I finally after the 3rd time getting up, lifted the 20 pound CostCo bag of dog food that was on the floor, rolled the open top portion of paper down very tightly to keep it fresh and hoisted the whole heavy thing onto the table top where the little beggar couldn't reach it.

3 minutes later Jordy came downstairs to snack on his food and suddenly came bolting out of the kitchen. I then heard what scared him: I had unbeknowest trapped the fella INSIDE the dog food bag!!

"Crap!" I shouted and scolded Fred and Jordy, "You both are worthless!" I carefully took the bag back down to the floor, every time I'd touch it the little guy would freeze and stop moving inside. But I knew he was in there - somewhere suffocating in 20 pounds of dog food!! I then kicked the bag over on it's side with the opening of the bag facing the doggy door so he could make an escape.

Needless to say the little guy was scared to death probably, and was still trapped since I had so tightly rolled down the excess paper at the bag opening. SHOOT! I got the end of the broom to try and stick it in that rolled up part - I didn't want to bend down in front of it and 1) risk blocking his escape route out the door and 2) if I knelt in front of it and used my hands to open the bag he'd probably jump right into my face with claws extended!!!

So I used the end of the broom stick and kept trying to pry it open and finally got it open so he could run out. Which of course he did ...not. I finally had to keep whacking the bag to scare him out of there - and he FINALLY after about 5 minutes ran out and straight out the door.

I phoned Patrick to tell him of my stressful ordeal. I also informed him that he ain't a baby and cute anymore, but bigger and blacker and more rodent-looking. Shoot - maybe it was the daddy....

Courtesy of Brother Gabe

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3V0mRvh14Wc Back at USD, a rich college full of kids driving convertible beamers and porsches, what was I trying to get dates in? A freakin' LE CAR !!!!!

It even got worse when in my sophomore year Mom got cream-colored fur seat covers, my friends fell on the ground tearfully laughing at the "luxury items" in the Le Car. Everyone on campus said "here comes Gabe in the Le CAN" !!!! Dios Mio!!! :) -Tio GM


*Editor's Note - I gasped watching this commercial - is that for real???! I also realized that my beloved Phantom Gray Scion XA hatchback has a remarkable resemblance to Gabe's gray Le Car!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!<

PS ...

It ain't real... just an indian henna tattoo someone offered to me for free :)

Que Es? What is it? Cos'e?

 



Any guesses? :P

Dune

Death Valley Dunes - Finale

 

Alas, by this point in the late afternoon P and I were quite dusty and physically tiring - not to mention hot. We had hit almost everything that there was to see in Death Valley and I was starting to feel slight heat stroke - even though we were consistently drinking something.

Next to last on our list of sights to see was my favorite of the day - the sand dunes. I have never walked on sand dunes before. But in my imagination as a child I had galloped astride the great literary horse: The Black Stallion by author Walter Farley across his native Arabian sand dunes many a time. I have a love affair with sand dunes due to that horse and those books. So to be here - after the several different terrains we had already traversed that day - and walk upon a sea of mounds of sand with Nature's print on each one in the form of rippling waves caused by the wind - - hot dog! - I can't even explain how beautiful and special that was to me!!

 

It was so gorgeous that I didn't even want to ruin it by adding any more human tracks so I followed P slowly at a distance stepping carefully in his footprints. Then at one point he set up to take pictures and I wandered to the top of a dune and sat down, clutching my knees to my chin and was happy as a clam just taking it all in.

 

Unfortunately, our time there was cut shorter than I would have preferred as we then had a race against time as we rushed in the car a half hour away to the best location to take pictures of the sunset in Death Valley. As it was, we were about 5 minutes too late. About 30 photographers were making their way down the hill of Zabrieski Point as we were panting our way up it. Patrick lamented our cutting it so close but continued to snap away for another 20 minutes - and do you know what? Even with the light not quite what it could have been if we had arrived earlier - - he still managed to get a couple amazing shots on his real photographic equipment. I mean, mine above is pretty good. Wait until you see his:)

Alas, mine will have to suffice for now - click below and enjoy the last of our wonderful trip to Death Valley!

Death Valley - Finale

Reporting from Death Valley

Golden walls to Bad Waters - Death Valley

 

After a brief, welcome lunch stop at an air conditioned cafe (the ONLY cafe - I should say) in the National Park, we then drove to the Golden Canyon with beautiful walls of varying yellows and golds. There was also a large natural bridge. By this time it was quite hot, upper 90s - - all the walking on trails we were doing was even starting to wear on me and I love desert dry heat.

 

Death Valley is the hottest and lowest place in the Unites States. Since it is surrounded by such large mountains (at almost 12,000 feet and get all the snow and rain), no water gets to the 182-mile valley making it so hot and dry.
 
Our next stop after the Canyon was the Badwaters Basin. The interesting part here was that it lies 282 feet below sea level. That means I've traveled with my P from 282 below sea level (the lowest point in North America) to one of the highest points in South America (14000 feet above sea level in Peru). Just a quick fun fact - he he he!

In any case, the Badwaters Basin is basically an almost dried-up large salt-water reservoir. The reason for its name was that at one point a tired, thirsty miner led his mule there when they saw water. The mule refused to drink, sensing the salt and bad quality to it. The miner, disappointed and still thirsty, named it right then and there, "Bad Water". It was interesting to crunch around on the white salt crystals under our feet. But, boy, was it really hot by now.

I was amazed at how many foreigners we had seen throughout our different trails. I guess since there is no desert in Europe a lot of French and also Japanese were around. And wearing the wrong shoes and clothing I might add. I mean - these were not easy, fun trails to saunter - it was really hot, really dry, almost no shade and it was dusty, rocky or sandy. With that our day was slowing down as we continued hiking about and seeing the different ecological sights of Death Valley.
Click on Slideshow below!

Death Valley 2008- Golden Canyon and Badwater Basin

From Aliens to Craters - "Beam me up, Scotty"

 

Editor's Note - It's a strange headline - but it makes perfect sense if you follow my previous blogs on Death Valley... he he he
After our impromptu photoshoot at Racetrack Playa, P and I packed up and set off around 8:30am back on the dusty, slow dirt road back towards the one main (and paved) road that cuts across the entire Death Valley from one park entrance to the next (a 1.5-2 hour drive in itself). It was growing quite hot already and the road was incredibly dusty - since we had driven down at sunset the previous day we didn't realize how painstakingly slow and hot it was during the day. P's windshield actually developed a large crack from the shuddering and vibrations of the car going s-l-o-w-l-y over the dirt, bumpy road. (Shoot - Good thing we had a great night alone with the stars and good pictures for P to make the damage worth it).

Park Rangers warn people that cars can overheat on that road and you need extra tires if they should go flat. Well, we did run into the abandoned army jeep of the weird guy alone in fatigues that we had passed the night before. Evidently, on his return his car didn't make it and he tried to start walking back all the way (about 30 miles) towards the paved road - - incidentally, this is exactly what they tell you NOT to do. They tell you to stay with your car and with water and food, hopefully, and eventually in the next day or so someone will be making the off-road drive to the Playa and can pick you up. We never saw him on the road back so either he got picked up or the cannibalistic "These Hills Have Eyes" people or aliens came down and ate him!!! (Insert the cascading musical sound effect here: Duh-duh-DUHHH!!!!)

As we almost reached our glorious, paved road we sidetracked shortly to the top of the Ubehebe crater to check out the view. (By the way: I LOVED repeating over and over the name "Ew-buh-hay-bee - so much fun - try it!) The crater was from a volcanic eruption that left a several-mile radius of black, dry lava on either side of the unpaved dirt road. I hadn't seen any lava fields except for in Maui a couple years back so this was pretty cool to look at.
After the crater we got back on the real road and wound ourselves up a hillside to a natural oasis (I have always loved that word, too) with probably an acre of lush grass, believe or not, growing amidst some tall palm trees and other man-planted trees. Next to that was the tourist destination of "Scotty's Castle".

 

Death Valley Scotty told everyone that he built this castle in the hidden canyons of Death Valley. But that was not quite the truth. Albert Mussey Johnson, Chicago millionaire businessman, built his "Death Valley Ranch" in the cool of Grapevine Canyon and he let his cowboy mining partner, Scotty, live there as a guest. Ahhhh, it's a bit more than a white lie, Scotty, okaayy?? Scotty's Castle is a fantasy house. We didn't pay to take the guided tour, but one can still freely walk the grounds and take pictures and see the now empty huge swimming pool that rivals the Hearst Castle one we saw last summer. We also went up to the stables which have now been turned into a 'garage' of sorts of some of the old cars and wagons used during that time around the 1920s. Fantastic and interesting!

Click below for slide show!

Death Valley - Ubehebe Crater & Scotty's Castle

Day 2 - Death Valley - Photo Shoot

 

Alas, after a superb evening under the stars in our own world, Patrick woke up around 6am to set out once again to take early morning pictures of the racing rocks. The lighting is pristine at sunrise. I, unfortunately, was so tired that I did not join him - I hadn't slept well in the back of P's Honda Element - - I had nightmares all night about crazy inbred people or aliens lurking outside of our car while we were in the middle of nowhere.

An hour later he returned as I was blinking in the sunlight shocked to see that 4 more cars had joined us in the last hour - also full of photographers trying to catch the pinkish morning light. We chatted with an east Indian man who was traveling alone and said he had set off at 4am from the closest campsite within the park to get to the Racetrack Playa on time to get good light for his pictures. Boy, were we glad that we came out the night before and spent the entire night there with the place to ourselves!

 

We fired up our camping stove and made some eggs and hashbrowns, got dressed and did a little impromptu photoshoot (YES, DIANA, those are high heels I have on in the middle of the desert of Death Valley hehehhe). It was extremely bright (in fact, the lighting was too harsh and made my eyes water) but we were intrigued taking some shots in the vast expanse of the cracked Playa terrain and the large Grandstand rock formations as background. As the saying goes, "All the world is a stage!"

 

Click on slideshow below!

Death Valley - Racetrack Playa

How Lovely...

 How lovely a day it was today! Thanks to all for the phone calls, emails, ecards, texts and dinner and fun games at Di's house (although my tummy now hurts from 2 servings of creme brulee).. you are all appreciated for your thoughtfulness! :)