Figuratively Speaking

Attempting to reteach simile and metaphor to a group of four ninth graders today...

Me: Ok, so we know that a simile compares two things using the words like or as, right?

Students nod convincingly.

Me: Well, a metaphor also compares two things, but it doesn't use those words like or as. So instead of saying the girl had eyes like emeralds, we would say the girl had emerald eyes or the girl's eye's sparkled like emeralds. Does that make sense?

Students in unison: Uh huh.

Me: Ok then, let's try one. Let's think of a simile and then turn it into a metaphor.

Students stare blankly in my general direction.

Me: How about another example first? If I wanted to write a simile about clouds, I would think about what clouds are like... Well, they're white and fluffy, right? So I would think about what else is white and fluffy...hmmm. Cotton is white and fluffy, so I might say that the clouds looked like cotton balls floating in the sky. You with me?

Students: Yah. Uh huh. Yes! (Alex just nods coldly as is his custom.)

Me: Now, if I want to turn that simile into a metaphor, I need to get rid of the word like and make a more direct comparison. How could we turn that into a metaphor?

Angel: (enthusiastically) The clouds are white and fluffy.

Me: (deep inhale and long pause to look around for someone to correct Angel) Ummm, no, not quite. We're still going to compare them to cotton balls, we're just going to take out the word like. So we end up with the clouds are cotton balls floating in the sky.

Angel nods agreeably. Lara draws a cloud in her notes. Rico makes hilarious eye contact with someone across the room. Alex stares at me with dead eyes.

Me: (trying for enthusiasm, likely ending up closer to deranged determination) Let's try to write a simile and a metaphor about something. How about....the sun? What can we say about the sun? What should we compare it to?

Students look at me expectantly.

Me: (encouragingly, possibly crazily) You try! The sun is...

Angel: (gamely) The sun is...yellow!!!

Ricoo: (excited now) The sun is hot!!!

Me: (defeated) Yup. Ok. Uh huh. But we have to compare it to something. What else is yellow?

Angel: Chickens!

Rico: My shoes!

Laa: (disgusted with Ernesto) Chickens are not yellow, tonto.

Alex: (threateningly) . . .


I'm not entirely sure what happened after that as I entered a catatonic state for the remainder of the class period.

A Flash of Fall

For a lovely few days last week, San Diego welcomed October with appropriately fallish weather. It rained and gusted. It even thundered and lighteninged. Most importantly, it gave absolute legitimacy to the sweaters and leggings that I feel I have a right to wear as soon as October rolls around.

Now, I would never complain about Southern California's near perfect weather. I've lived with the alternative, and I have come to terms with the fact that I just don't have the mental or emotional fortitude to withstand weeks and months of steel gray skies and temperatures that don't rise above freezing. That said, I do miss fall in New England. The sudden crispness in the air signals the long, slow build-up to the most wonderful time of the year. (Fear not, I will not begin Christmas talk until after Thanksgiving, as is the rule.)

Anyway, the point is that, here in San Diego, I cling to any hit of a season change, so I find a few days of rainy weather to be a reward in and of itself. Nature, however, saw fit to throw in a rainbow as an extra little gift.

 
This weekend, temperatures were back in the upper seventies and the skies were cloudless and beautiful. Tom and I headed to the beach on Saturday and Sunday to soak up the fall sun.  I still get the occasional twinge of nostalgia for falling leaves and frost on the pumpkin, but I'm a California girl through and through.

Farmer's Market Flowers - Dahlias

I'm in love.  Staring at these luscious, pink petals reminds me of my spring love affair with peonies.

Usually, I regret it when I let the sad-faced farmer man up-sell me and talk me into two bouquets when I stroll up to the counter with only one. Not this time. I've had vases of dahlias in every room for the last week, and they make me smile every time I pass them.

I Have a Suggestion...

Sooo, earlier this week, I took my car in the dealership so that they could fix a leaky sunroof that was covered under warranty. Fair enough. Stupidly, I agreed to also have the 85,000 mile service while I was there... Next thing I know, Harold, Mr. VM Repairman, is calling to explain the $3,000+ worth of repairs he recommends for my car. My eyes glazed over right around the point when Harold mentioned my collapsed struts and a crooked rotor valve engine coolant hose. Or something. Fortunately for me, I have a husband. This, as you may or may not know, means that I am hereby excused from making any and all car repair decisions...in perpetuity. Or something.

{I cannot even begin to explain how much this sign pains me. The missing punctuation, the random capitalization...I find it truly upsetting.

I reminded Harold that I am just a silly, little woman and he best call my husband. Tom was able to ascertain which repairs were necessary to avoid certain fiery death precipitated by rotor valve engine coolant hose malfunction or other such vehicular disaster. Apparently, preventing the Jetta from becoming a silver, German death mobile costs exactly $942. Better than Harold's original estimate, but still...another reminder of why getting to choose your own bedtime is sometimes just not a worthwhile trade-off for all the other nonsense that comes with being a grown-up.

Anyway, all of this is just to explain why I was sitting, rather grumpily, in the waiting room at the Volkswagen service center. Now, thankfully, I had brought my own reading material because that which was provided by VW was somewhat lacking...

~Musical Interlude~

Ice Ice Baby. Vogue. Hold On. Opposites Attract. Rhythm Nation. Pump Up the Jam. We Didn't Start the Fire. Love Shack. The Humpty Dance.

Now, I chose these songs not only for their timeless appeal, but also because they were number one hits during the year in which the magazines so thoughtfully offered by Volkswagen were printed. That year also happens to be the year that my youngest sister was born.

{This is my youngest sister now. She is old enough to live in Spain. Without parental supervision!}

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against 1990, clearly it brought great things like Midge and the Humpty Dance. It's just that...well, I feel like reading material that was published in the last decade is not too much to ask from an organization that sees no problem with charging $356 to install a $60 part.

Lest anyone suspect that I am exaggerating...

{Remember Jasmine Guy and A Different World, aka Denise Huxtable Goes to College? Classic programming.}


{I wasn't even into double digits yet when this thing came out.}

I felt like some sort of time traveling anthropologist flipping through this thing. There was the cover story on skiing that made me incredibly grateful that fluorescent lycra is no longer a thing.

Then there were the advertisements. Remember L.A. Gear?

So, to sum up, the Volkswagen dealership has really old magazines, and they should be able to afford better what with my $1,000 tune-up.

Napa and San Francisco...Part II

Having confirmed the itinerary with a third party, I can now say with authority that after lunch we went to Alpha Omega. Alpha Omega is a relatively new winery with modern decor and a fairly douche-y bartender.

Next, it was on to Peju. We waited for a while for a spot at the tasting bar and were about to give up when the hostess offered a private tasting upstairs in the reserve room. Umm...okay!

Our last stop of the day was at Piña where our final tasting was poured by a WWII vet who wears the same watch as Tom's grandfather. Relevant? No, but this fact was endlessly fascinating to Tom at the time. I'm pretty sure that the older gentleman was probably quite relieved to see us leave without attempting to wrest the watch from his wrist.

{If I could give a message to that girl, I would tell her that six hours of non-stop wine consumption is plenty for one day. 

Quit while you're ahead!}

Now, our wine tour ended at about five o'clock, but we didn't roll into bed until around midnight. Mercifully, those seven hours were not recorded by my camera or anyone else's. Suffice it to say that there was more wine, more chatting, and a delicious dinner that miraculously appeared before us (thanks Chris!). There may or may not also have been a late night walk across the golf course in search of a hot tub and/or bar...

Moving on... Thanks to the copious amounts of wine, the next day got off to a slow and cautious start. Jimmy and Kisha came up from Oakland to spend the day and take Tom back with them. Because we had enjoyed it so much, and because the previous day's drinking had deprived us of the ability to form original thoughts, we took Jimmy and Kisha back to Frog's Leap. It was as lovely as the on the previous day, but "our palates were exhausted" (read-we were hungover), so the wine held somewhat less of an appeal. The crackers, however, were appreciated with gusto.

 {Tom, looking better than he had any right to after Saturday's debauchery}

After Frog's Leap, Tom headed back to Oakland with Jimmy and Kisha, and the rest of us took some much-needed naps. The naps provided a new lease on life and the exact amount of energy necessary to take ourselves out to a fabulous, farm-to-table style, Napa dinner at Brix.

 

 {Brix vineyards}

 {Brix vegetable gardens}

{Brix}

We lingered over our dinner, drawing it out with dessert and after dinner drinks...it was delightful. I wish that every weekend ended like this.

On Monday, it was back to San Francisco. Tom headed to Haight Ashbury to explore record and guitar shops while Kelsey and I enjoyed an afternoon full of girlie, beautifying fun in the Marina. We also had time for a walk around her 'hood and a trip to the grocery store.

 {Kelsey and Chris live in a postcard}

{This is the grocery store of my dreams; it's like a farmer's market that sells wine and is open every day...I die! (Too much Rachel Zoe for this girl. Although...Rachel Zoe doesn't eat, let alone grocery shop. This is a lot of rambling for a caption.) }

It was an all around perfect weekend. The only downside is that I was spoiled with two best friend hangout sessions in one month, and now I'm in withdrawal. I really wish that the scientist-types would get on this whole beaming thing...

Wine Soaked Picnic in Napa...check.

As soon as I took the leap and admitted to my friends that I had joined the self-indulgent world of recording one's most mundane thoughts on a weblog for all the world to see, Kelsey immediately offered to assist with list item #25: Have a wine-soaked picnic in Sonoma. We substituted Napa as the wine-soaked picnicking was the really crucial bit, and it was absolutely delightful.

I am in the midst of a glorious two weeks of fall break and Virgin America was generously offering tickets to San Francisco for $39 each way. The stars (with a lot of help of help from Kelsey and her parents) aligned and Kelsey was able to borrow a family friend's condo at the Silverado resort in Napa, so we had a lovely place to stay on Saturday and Sunday night.

Tom and I took the first flight to SFO on Saturday morning, Kelsey and Chris picked us up at the airport, and we were on our way to wine country by 9:15am. After a mini schmozel, we located our condo, dropped off our things, and met up with Ron, the patient gentleman who would be ferrying us around for the day.

{Tom, not Ron. Sadly, no pictures of Ron.}

As usual, I was so excited to be drinking champagne with my friends at 11 o'clock in the morning that, Mumm, the first stop on our tour is largely undocumented.

{Post-bottle of sparkling wine at Mumm}

The next stop was Frog's Leap, a very cool organic winery whose tasting room was actually a tasting porch in a renovated farm house. Not only are Frog's Leap's grapes organically grown, but the whole operation is 100% run off of solar power, and they dry farm their grapes, an impressive show of water conservation in drought-ridden California. This turned out to be my favorite winery of the day, and not just because of all their awesome "green-ness," they also had really delicious wine and all tastings came with cheese, crackers, and dried fruits. Win. Win.

 {Only two wineries in and the pictures are already fuzzy and oddly framed.}

By two o'clock it was picnic time! V. Sattui was selected as our third destination and the site of the aforementioned wine-soaked picnic. We picked up paninis and another bottle of wine and then proceeded to stalk other picnikers in order to pounce on the next available table.

Things start to get a little hazy after lunch. I know that there were three more stops... In the interest of creating a historically accurate record of the weekend, I'm going to pause here and consult my compatriots to see if we can piece together a complete timeline of Saturday's wine-related activities...

More tomorrow.

The Sixth Lady

This little ladybug wanted in on the Sunday evening cocktail hour during our girls' weekend. Can't say that I blame her...