Mothering Sunday

22/03/09

Mothering Sunday

I remember this morning, just in time, that I need to send my mum some flowers for Mothering Sunday… I have had two Saturdays’ worth of time to remember after all! I scamper about on the internet and find that Interflora are alive and well and willing, so I make my online request and hope that it is in sufficient time… I also check out what else is around to do in and around San Francisco and I make vague plans for things to see, like Alcatraz and Pier 39.
But for today, there are existing plans, in which I am very much included…
It begins with a good breakfast following a lie in – Cheesy eggs and bacon, with us all in slouchy clothes and pyjamas. Perfect! The eggs are very good and I begin to look forward to a nice day with the family. We potter about. Edward fixes some things, including a Perth phone charm of mine which has parted company with itself and a little wooden car of Thomas’. Meg takes the opportunity to chill out after a busy week. I look out into the bright airy world that is Portola Valley out of the window, and I can see why Ed likes it here. It is clear and clean and the sun shines down on its spring buds, crystal-bright. I play with Thomas for a while in the sun, around the decking which surrounds the house and he is fun and interested, and asks intelligent questions. Unusually for a three year old, he also listens intently to the answers…

We are going to have lunch in Palo Alto with some of Ed and Meg’s friends and Meg’s sister. We all tidy ourselves up, and get ready to go out.
Thomas is clearly ready to go too; Ed says, ‘Do you want to go and put your shoes on?’ and he trots off happily to fetch them and tries to put them on, with some degree of success.

We all scramble into Meg’s big black Mercedes and we head off for lunch. I sit in the front and chat to Meg while Thomas happily molests Ed in the back seat and flings shoes about, giggling. He counts his fingers and toes (correctly) and we talk about the time and our names, among other things. Meg finds us somewhere to park and we head into the restaurant we are aiming for. It is laid out a little like a Steak house but the food is very good. I have a large portion of thick, creamy, mushroom soup and a big glass of juice. There is a platter of garlic bread shared between us, which is also very nice. Thomas sits opposite me next to Ed and Meg, who look after his plate and waters down his soda (I must remember that – restaurants and machines always make it too strong even for my taste!). He has a small pizza, which gets almost everywhere (though I have to say I’ve seen far stickier three-year-olds!). After a lovely leisurely lunch with Meg and Ed’s friends, we pay (I try, unsuccessfully, to insist I pay my share) and toddle off to have a wander around Palo Alto, maybe via a coffee shop or two.
We have a lovely relaxed mooch this afternoon…
We leave the restaurant in the afternoon sun. It is crystal clear and, though the sun is still a little watery, Spring’s power is beginning to toast through. To my amusement and delight, we walk past the Facebook headquarters, an unassuming office building like all the others in Silicon Valley. I pose for a picture – well, it’s got to be done! Sadly, as it is Sunday, there is no one there to wave at. What a pity – perhaps I could have begged a job! ;)
We continue on, heading vaguely for Starbucks and pass a lovely mock-Georgian house, with a perfectly American porch. The street at the front is covered in the oddest things. They look like hedgehog eggs.
I pick one up and inspect it, turning to Edward to identify it for me. He has no idea, but we come to the conclusion that it is some kind of tree seed-pod. It is small and reminiscent of a plane tree’s pod, but is prickly like a conker with small curved spines, presumably designed to hitch a lift with a passing sheep. Back in the days when San Francisco HAD sheep of course… If it ever did.
There are lots of them and Edward assures me, after my enquiry that ‘did he think it was okay if I snaffled one off their front garden’ that the owners were more than likely to be delighted that I had removed at least one of the pesky things! I tuck it carefully inside my pashmina in my bag, so that all its hooks are covered and it can’t escape. I wonder what it is… Being a parent clearly suits Ed… He has gained gravitas and confidence, and a delightful family…
Soon, we are at Starbucks and we each grab something to take out. I, bewildered as ever by the enormous selection, plump for a hot chocolate, simple and tasty, though Starbucks still don’t really do marshmallows… We sit around outside the café and watch the world go by. Thomas bounces around each of us in turn, and pauses every so often for a slurp of juice. He is into everything and his father is clearly itching to pull him out of puddles and grubby patches but restrains himself. His mother, however, draws the line at the bin, and Thomas is plonked firmly but cheerfully in Dad’s arms on one of the seats, where he turns around to watch the world go by on the ‘street’. We all join in when a red MG purrs up to the intersection behind us. Ed is immediately riveted and holds a brief but enthusiastic and detailed conversation with the driver of the sleek little open topped car until the lights change. We hear it purr away and I gaze after it hungrily.
I often do this to nice cars, usually the little sporty numbers with the sleek bodies and sexy lines, particularly the functional but graceful curves of the Lotuses (Loti?). I sometimes catch the man behind the wheel looking back at me and I wonder if he thinks I am thinking ‘Ooh, he’s got a nice car, wonder if he’d like to take me for a spin and then maybe…?’, when what I am actually thinking is, ‘Ooh, nice car, shiny, pretty, powerful car, wanna dump your driver and come play with me?’ I rarely notice the drivers to be honest… ;)
Ed and I quit drooling and we all chat amiably in the pale afternoon sun until we all grow chilly. It is still Spring after all, and the leaves are not yet really back on the trees. We get up, throw away our rubbish and explore Palo Alto some more. I have been promised a bead shop, and am bouncing with anticipation but it has sadly been closed down and now remains merely online. Still, there are some other interesting things which catch my eye.
Shops.
(Well, der, just ‘cause I like fast cars doesn’t mean I don’t like shopping – I AM female!)
We meander down a road, a rather Bohemian-looking road, and see a shop that’s clearly catering for vintage people with rather too much money and nowhere near enough taste and see the most peculiar apparition.
It’s shiny.
Very shiny.
It emerges from the ‘posh’ shop, holding a bag stiffly by its side. The shop has no labels on its goods and I can’t decide whether this is because the owners think that if you’re asking, you can’t afford it, or if they’re just so ashamed of their wares that they’ll be grateful for any offers!
The apparition pauses in the doorway to finish her conversation. There is still a large part of me that thinks that silver lamé should really have stayed in the eighties, preferably on people below a certain age who were trying to make a particularly loud and arrogant statement… On ladies of a ‘certain age’ it’s just wrong. As are the quilted, silver shoulder-pads and the tight white trousers. Has she not realized she’s a blinding, blinging vision of glaring tastelessness?!
Clearly not.
She stalks from the shop, clearly ignoring we oiks who are beneath her and sweeps down the street. Meg and I look at each other and I stifle a giggle. Neither of us is dressed in the heights of couture at the moment, but I think tidy t-shirts, warm jumpers, comfy jeans and trainers are fine for a Sunday afternoon out in a quiet town…
Next door is a shop where I am much happier. Very Bohemian, incense-scented, run by Indians and bearing all sorts of little delights in boxes, pots and on tables. All of which are under the magical female-charming sign, ‘all stock 20% off today’ The lads lose their ladies for a good twenty minutes as we dive in and admire pretty things – bangles, bracelets, strings of elephants; scarves, jumpers and dainty slippers; cushions, boxes and incense… I acquire a lovely pale, silvery-purple scarf, all silk and very long for a mere $15, plus discount – even allowing for recession prices back home that’s still pretty good… I snaffle my purchase and join the others outside. Meg has bought a scarf too, for Ed’s mum and he examines it briefly and pronounces it perfect. I suspect Meg could have brought him a puce and orange one and the response would have been similar. ;) But this one is very pretty and very appropriate, lilac, pink and grey in a fetching not-quite-Paisley pattern.
There are a couple of other things we see in Palo Alto before we head home again.
Meg has excitedly dragged us into a sporting memorabilia shop. It’s more like a museum to be honest, and the owner is clearly unphased by people coming in merely to look at his wares – I suppose it at least spreads the word that they are there! Meg waves proudly at an exhibit in a glass case and announces that it is one of the most exciting things to see in Palo Alto, ‘Shaq’s Shoe!’.
I was prepared to be unimpressed before I walked into the shop.
It’s just a shoe, after all.
Not this one.
Shaq’s shoe is huge!
You could happily kayak a family of four up a river in it and still have room for luggage!
It is, I kid you not, probably considerably larger than my head…
Meg is sufficiently gratified by my awed reaction and we wave at the owner and wend on.
We are nearly back at the car now but I scamper off briefly to admire something in a little square just off the street.
It encapsulates the spirit of Palo Alto perfectly: The heart of Silicon Valley in the middle of artistic Bohemian culture. It’s a carefully crafted egg about eight feet tall and green and blotchy, as one might expect from an egg.
However, this gigantic egg is not verdigrised bronze, as I thought from a distance, but fashioned entirely from used circuit boards. It’s really rather fun, and very pretty. Ed, Thomas and I do photographs and a passing lady with a large camera very kindly offers to take one of the three of us with mine.
Photos done, we head back to the car and clamber in, happily and pleasantly tired. Thomas is strapped in and we head for home admiring the light and the countryside along the freeway.
We arrive back in the pretty late afternoon sun and head indoors, past various bushes with little buds that look familiar, but that I can’t quite identify. On the way, Ed shows me Thomas’ little mechanical car, under a tarpaulin, that he has fixed up for him and waves vaguely in the direction of his own car, also under a tarp beneath the house and Thomas very clearly and proudly declaims it to be an ‘Emm Gee’.
Cool…
I am promised a ride in it one day this week…
Even more cool!
We head inwards and I offer to help – I am given spuds to do and set about them willingly, chatting about potatoes, peelers, and cooking in general, while Meg sorts out the fish. Some of the vegetables are from little roadside stalls and the stocks will need to be replenished. Sounds interesting, maybe I’ll get to see those too… J I like Portola Valley. Maybe it’s just because Meg and Ed have made it such a family place, but it certainly feels like a home. Never expected to find THAT in America! Perhaps California is different… Or maybe I was just wrong… ;)
The fish is excellent and well-accompanied, thanks to Coco’s salad efforts once again. Thomas joins in with the Alphabetas tonight and Ed helps him with his supper. I chat to Granpa Ken and Coco; Andrew’s love of musicals is pounced upon and dissected. ;) I have a feeling that I am going to be called upon to chat about musicals later in the week…
More juice, a cup of tea and a bit of a play with Thomas later

(Thomas: ‘Can Cousin Clare come and play now?
Meg: ‘You’ll have to ask her, she might not have finished her dinner?’
Thomas: ‘Cousin Clare?’
Me: ‘Yes, Thomas?’
Thomas: ‘Have you had sufficient?’
Me: ‘I think so thank you Thomas’
*triumphant look from Thomas*
Thomas: ‘Can you come and play now?’
Meg: ‘Politely?’
Thomas: ‘Cousin Clare, will you come and play with me please?’
Me: ‘If I’m allowed’
Thomas: *puzzled look turning to understanding*
Me: ‘May I get down now please?’
Meg: *big grin* ‘Of course’
*Thomas drags new playmate off to wooden train set*)

and we are sitting having a chat, Meg in her favourite new swivel chair, I on the sofa and Ed balanced awkwardly but apparently comfortably on a dining chair. We put the world right after Thomas has gone to bed, and talk about so many things while the night draws her dark wings about the odd, round house. There is mention of seeing stars one night if it’s clear, that’ll be exciting!
So many things to think about tonight…
I head bedwards and scribble thoughts before listening to Andrew read me Terry Pratchett and having some tea to help me sleep…
‘Night ‘night!