All posts by J. Stern

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PEOPLE OF THE IE-Tony Gonzalez, Cowboy at heart, hits the Real Estate range.

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To kick off this new page PEOPLE OF THE IE, I decided to start with someone who’s led a life of adventure, loves people and helped many.   Tony Gonzalez, known in Norco as Cowboy is a top real estate producer and also teaches courses at two of the largest Real Estate competitors in the Inland Empire.  

Besides these awesome credentials, what is unique about Tony?  I have to go back to the beginning when I first met him.  

I had reached a point in life where I was looking for new opportunities and pursuing change. I’m a huge believer that change is necessary to thrive.  It’s the human condition to long for stability, find that safe place and then relax.   But, I haven’t met a person yet, that reached that goal. Life will also give you a nudge, sometimes a kick to get you going. So, I prefer to be proactive.  This belief spurred me take a real estate course.   I went to a well-known national chain with several local offices and my instructor ended up being Tony.   

The class was in the evening, after work and we had a small group of hopeful individuals wanting to better their lives by selling Real Estate.  I anticipated a very business like, maybe boring person, to lead us through the course. We sat around the table chatting until a  guy, dressed  like he was going to the rodeo entered the room.   He was loud and commanded our attention at once. He was articulate with a slight accent and happened to be trilingual.    He proceeded to start talking about  music, guns, cars and then real estate.  He was funny, hilarious, talented and knew his stuff. Several of the students and myself attempted to challenge him, but he knew the subject backwards and forwards. And he was humble about it. He kindly put us in our places  with encouragement to keep challenging him and learn.   He was nice to everyone and genuine.   His friendliness wasn’t a facade. He remembered our personal details and our personal motivations for being in his class.   

I found him to be fascinating and it really piqued my curiosity how he became this successful, yet kind and giving person.  He was willing to lead students through difficult and sometimes boring tomes of information.  It was obvious that he didn’t see barriers or stereotypes. Everyone was fair game.   It was all about teaching Real Estate and making it real for all of us. Giving us a vision of success.

So this post is about how he became the person he is today and the good work he is doing for the community and business world out here in the Inland Empire.

It all started in Los Angeles.  Tony was the youngest of four children and only son of Juan Palomo, famous mariachi and Mexican national treasure. Juan Palomo was from the famed Guanajuato, Mexico.  Guanajuato is best known in Riverside as the home of the Reyes family who commissioned the Reyes Retablo housed in the Saint Francis Chapel of The Mission Inn.  Countless celebrities and people of fame have been married in front of this priceless piece of art that is over 300 years old.   Tony’s ancestry also traces back to Sweden. His maternal great grandfather, Stephen Green,  immigrated from Sweden to Mexico, landed in Baja and decided to establish is legacy there.

Juan Palomo eventually moved to Los Angeles to purse the American dream. He worked there for several years and then for health reasons decided to buy a farm and move back to Mexico, closer to family.  He bought a 250 acre farm in Mexico and began his  recovery.  The farm was successful. His crops were alfalfa, wheat, and there were some dairy cows.  There was also a drilling business. This is where Tony’s  love of ranching began and would eventually morph into a dream to travel the world, visit ranches and write about them. He dreamed of ranches in Australia, Alaska and Argentina.  He found he carried the musical gene as well and learned to master the guitar, piano and harmonica.  When he told his father he wanted to continue his schooling,  become a writer and travel around the world, his father would tease him and tell him to climb to the top of the drill rig where he could see the world.

Eventually, Tony moved back to the US and stayed with family there to finish his education. He went to Veterinary school and then decided to live his dream and become a cowboy. He was able to secure a position on a ranch in Montana and began to ride the range and work with cattle.   He loved the outdoors, even the bitter cold.   As he worked on the vast Montana ranch, his dream  to see ranches around the world and photograph them continued to grow. 

Photo by Chris Murray on Unsplash

His next move was to the 12,284 acre Avenales Ranch on the California Central Coast. At that time, the Avenales Ranch was owned by Jim Stinton. Jim Stinton held a degree from UC Berkeley in agricultural economics. He was deeply involved in agricultural research and executed many projects and experiments that advanced the science of ranching. Jim Stinton was a friendly and kind man and well-loved in his community. He shared information with the ranch hands and rode side by side with them over the range; teaching and working the range. At the Avenales Ranch, Tony worked the land and became an expert on wildlife and game, while working under the tutelage of John Arnold, the ranch manager and his Uncle Humberto Castro from the neighboring ranch, Las Piletas.   There was a broad range of wildlife that included bears, mountain lions, elk and several species of snakes. The impact of Jim Stinton’s, as well as John Arnold and Humberto Castro’s teaching, stayed with Tony and inspired him to become a teacher and mentor later, when he became successful in Real Estate.

While working on the Central Coast, life happened and Tony met his beautiful wife and started a family.  Along with that came the demand to settle down and provide a good life for his wife and three sons. First, they moved off the remote 12,000 acre ranch to a town nearby. Here, Tony took on additional work at a veterinary clinic. He settled here until an opportunity to start a tech business in Mexico arose. He moved back to Mexico briefly, learned the business from the ground up and then Y2K hit, which led to his return to the United States and the Inland Empire. In the Inland Empire, he was introduced to selling Real Estate by a friend. He took to selling land, like a fish to water, and soon became an award winning  top producer in the Inland Empire, selling millions of dollars of Real Estate.

Fast forward today and Tony’s role as a teacher and mentor to Real Estate students. Not only is the work philanthropic in nature; but it provides networking, access to new trends in the industry and consulting opportunities. This as a whole benefits the industry.

I asked Tony why he teaches. He responded he really enjoys it. He loves meeting people and finds the teaching process fun. He loves helping people succeed and see them improve their lives. He keeps inspired by following motivational speakers on Ted Talks and is a big fan of self improvement. He loves to pass this on in his classes. 

My last and favorite question for Tony was, what is the meaning of life to you? He quickly responded that he believed everyone was here for two reasons. He liked to think those reasons were to learn and grow and to make the world a better place for future generations.  He believes that life is always changing and had not really ever considered retiring, but restructuring his life.  This would be a balance of dividing his time between selling Real Estate, teaching, traveling and spending time on a small rural property that is not a working ranch.

Meanwhile, you can reach Tony at: www.norcolife.com 

 

 

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REDLANDS GLASS MUSEUM

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A New Years Visit To The Redlands Glass Museum

January is always an interesting month. It comes after a slew of celebrations, communing with family and marks a new start. A New Year to make your life anew. It’s cold, even in SoCal. In SoCal you can have a sunny brilliant day one day and the next it’s cold and dark, snow clouds hover close to the earth casting gloom over everything.

On such a day, I made a trip to a place I had been meaning to visit for several years. Several years ago I attended an antique glass auction to benefit the Redlands Glass Museum. It was such an unique experience and the glass so beautiful, I promised myself I would visit the museum one day.

Redlands is beautiful city located in the Far North Eastern portion of the Inland Empire along the 10 freeway and is the last large city before you get to Palm Springs, which is about 45 miles East of  Redlands. Redlands is the home to a multitude of historic homes and mansions. The types of architecture represented is abundant and it’s worth a day trip just to drive up and down the old boulevards to drive past the old mansions and homes. Redlands founders made their fortunes in Citrus, like many of the neighboring cities. 

The Redlands Glass Museum is located on the Northeast sector of town and located in a home that was built in 1905 by Jerome Seymour who owned a successful and popular mill in Redlands. The home is a large Queen Anne bungalow and embellished with all sorts of lovely cornices and trim. Guest parking is to the rear of the house. There is parking for differently abled guests and a ramp to the rear entrance.

Everyone enters through the rear and the front doors are kept locked.

Admission is voluntary donation of 3.00 and they allow photography, which is wonderful. The volunteers are dedicated and know everything you every wanted to know about historic American glass. The museum has the largest collection of historic glass West of the Mississippi. A large part of the collection was manufactured East of the Mississippi in great glass factories.

It was a different time and those fragile treasures created in those factories have survived, (some almost 200 years), and now are cared for and cherished by the museum in Redlands. The museum is constantly receiving donations and rotate collections on a regular basis.

The house itself, is a treasure and well-preserved. The carved moldings are in their original condition and exquisitely carved. There are transoms above the doors that open to circulate air, (a personal favorite). There are several rooms that center around a foyer and then move back through the house plan spaced evenly and parallel to each other. The front entrance is no longer utilized and guests are asked to enter through the back door which has a convenient ramp for those of us who can’t take stairs. There is a welcome room with a nice clean bathroom to the right for guests use and a small gift shop located in the old kitchen.

Each room is filled with case filled with various collections of antique glass. My favorites were the depression glass and children’s glass objects (child size dishes, cups and salt cellars). The rooms are filled with sparkling light in all shade of the rainbow reflecting off the glass. Each collection is carefully marked and described so that you know what you are looking at. The docents at the museum are friendly and excited to share the unique history of vintage glass and how they came to love antique glass objects. The stories are fascinating and I would have loved to pull up a chair and spend the day chatting.

For more information and history, The Historical Glass Museum Foundation has a wonderful website full of information to help you plan your visit:

http://historicalglassmuseum.com/index.html

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Paint And Flow

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So I painted pots today and they turned out so cute.   I’m passing on this fun garden decorating project, because it’s inexpensive, relaxing and will add a fun vibe to your out door space.  It’s a great time to add some bright colors to your backyard to celebrate the New Year.  

I’m on a serious budget right, preparing for the New Year and embracing minimalism. I know that it’s super important to get outside, commune with nature and to maintain a healthy balance while working hard. I know this sounds really simple, but that’s the whole point.  Taking it easy, accepting it for what it is and enjoying the moment.  This isn’t about elaboration, complexity, talent or purpose-it’s for flow, acceptance and basically letting go.   This is for those who are up for fun, baggage free.  Get ready to relax your mind.   

To do this little project I needed pots, paint, shellac and brushes.  The pots would cost the most, so I had to get creative and source them cheaply. My mom had the paints and shellac and was in the process of painting bird houses. She invited me to join her, so everything just seemed to fall into place and I accepted her invitation.  

I wanted to do several small pots in rainbow colors. To source the pots,   I headed to a couple of my favorite thrift stores. This turned out to be a great idea.   There was a great variety of cute, small pots to choose from. There were pots in varying designs and sizes with different coatings and containing different objects.  For instance I bought a couple with old fake flowers stuck into styrofoam that were glued to the inside of the pot.  They were fairly sad looking and bent out of shape, but I planned to remove the flowers and upcycle them.

I picked out five and proceeded to the check out counter.  I asked the girl if she was open to bargaining. She was hesitant to admit she would, but she rung it up at the price I asked for, while saying she couldn’t do it.   That’s why I always say, It never hurts to ask!

I felt really lucky after that and went home to clean up the pots.  I scraped away the foam, curated the salvageable flowers for gift wrapping and collected the broken pieces that were big enough for painting.  I planned to paint them and then break them further to add to the stones in a handmade Bee Plate in the back yard. It was full of river stones and the colorful pieces would attract more bees.

So, I cleaned it and then the painting was a breeze.  It was fun to experiment with different patterns and colors.  As my mom and I painted she recounted stories of our past.  She had an amazing recall of our family history, funny stories and our vacation travels.   I relaxed painted and listened.   Once the painting and coating were completed, I attached them to the shed to add colorful inspiration and compliment the flowers that would bloom in the spring.   I walked across the yard and seated myself in a chair that was resting on cold grass wet with drops of moisture from the rain the night before.   The day had been cold and sunny with a brilliant blue sky, but not warm enough to evaporate the wetness from the night before.   I gazed across the garden at the shed which was backed by a huge oak with foliage that was thick, glorious and a dark earthy green.   The colors of the small pots created brilliant pops of light and fun punctuating the coldness of the wintry December day.  

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash



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The Golden Thread

Photo by MUILLU on Unsplash

My mother related that her mother, (my grandmother),  had a favorite petite homily. This lovely bit of advice was that golden threads connected us to Heaven. A filament so thin and fragile in it’s beauty and meaning, but with unworldly strength unknown to man. A love so great it’s unfathomable.

It was another timeless saying that had passed from generation to generation, perhaps for hundreds or years or maybe she had just picked up the pearl of wisdom in this century during her many travels.  My grandmother was well-travelled for a farm girl from Nebraska. Her mother was sent out to work at eleven years of age and then married a farm hand without a farm, so she continued to work on other people’s farms and started her family while doing so.  So my grandmother’s traveling began at her birth and as soon as her mother had recovered from childbirth and well enough to move to the next farm.  Eventually they moved into town and her father just moved from farm to farm and sent his income home. My great grandmother had to become self-reliant, especially when the depression hit. She brought in income by sewing, doing laundry, up cycling (before it was popular), taking in boarders, setting up her own beauty shop and working as a nanny. As my grandmother grew up, she followed in her independent mother’s footsteps. She went to college and she became a career woman. She worked as a book keeper for a well-known insurance company based out of the midwest.

Photo by Vladimir Kudinov on Unsplash

For fun she went to dances, sang in a choir, went on a lot of dates and travelled the United States performing on a drill team sponsored by her employer. She was also an accomplished pianist and was offered a tour to Europe, but for reasons buried and left undiscovered, she did not take up this amazing opportunity and decided to never play the piano again. Throughout all of this and for the rest of her life, she kept a prayer book at her bedside and read it on a regular basis.

This belief that there is a beautiful golden thread tethering us to heaven  describes the power of faith and the miracles that occur in our world everyday. Miracles that are inexplicable and affirm  that there is a greater power at work here. A power that’s a gift.

Photo by Ben Ostrower on Unsplash

When I was child, I was named by a rabbi, attended Saturday school, learned Hebrew and my name was installed on the Tree of Life. Eventually,  Life changed and my spiritual journey began.   I attended many houses of worship and found something valuable in each one.

With experience, I  let what I had learned as a child go, because with knowledge comes a new path.  

Photo by Artem Bali on Unsplash

There are many different religions in the world; up to 4200, per Google.  Christianity is the most popular, followed by Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist and then Shintoism. New age thinking has emerged and the concept that we are  spiritual beings more than anything else.  Spirituality doesn’t require structure to exist. 

My grandmother has been gone for many years now, but I keep her homily  close to my heart. It’s a small beautiful idea, but it’s everything too.

Photo by Artem Bali on Unsplash

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The Cooker

Photo by Kambani Ramano on Unsplash

Currently Netflix is playing the foodie film, ” Julie and Julia” about a food blogger who emulated Julia Child, the famous American French chef who changed American cooking and made history.  I dedicate this post to foodies and bloggers everywhere who are driven by curiosity and creativity.

When I moved into my old house, I was fortunate enough that it came with an antique stove. A 1950’s Maytag Dutch Oven model.  It was quite a sight and definitely not in perfect condition, but it worked. The edges were gently worn, but repaired with Porcelain Fix. The light over the stovetop was supposed to come on with a chain pull, but the original bulb(which was still there) had burnt out after 60 years.   There was a deep pot for stewing integrated into the surface, in the left rear position.

 

The stove was white and had an oven with a separate broiler beneath it. Sandwiching the main oven, were two large warmers. There were four burners on the top of the stove. One burner was situated deep within and below the above mentioned cast aluminum pot that was engraved around the edge with the words- REMOVE BEFORE COOKING. There was a timer that didn’t work. My friends and family were skeptical, but I fell in love at first sight.

Quickly,  before I move on, let me explain what is a Dutch Oven?  According to Wikipedia ” A Dutch oven is a thick-walled cooking pot with a tight-fitting lid. Dutch ovens are usually made of seasoned cast iron; however, some Dutch ovens are instead made of cast aluminium, or are ceramic. Some metal varieties are enameled rather than being seasoned.” Wikipedia

I knew that I could make it work and looked forward to creating great meals with it. The first thing I learned about this old stove was that when you heated it up, it got really hot and kept getting hot. The regulator was not functioning and I wasn’t sure until about ten years later where to find a repairman that specialized in antique ovens. There were so many projects with the old house that this was far down the list.

What was right? The flames on the top burners were strong  and the broiler was industrial grade and meant for serious grilling.  The broiler would brown and extract exquisite flavors fast.  So, I set about cooking with the stove and it was a project, but the food always came out fantastic and delish according to my guests. It was also a great heater in the winter. The heat from the stove would toast not only food, but humans too, making the house cozy and welcoming during cool So Cal winters.

Photo by MD Duran on Unsplash

Antique stoves are beautiful in appearance.  The designs speak of an era that has passed. There are round edges, beautiful lettering explaining simple features and sometimes whimsical small coves strategically placed for reheating and storing.  O’Keefe and Merritt, the royalty of cookers, was famous for those miniature alcoves of heat and created designs that brought forth images of English cottages, baking and creating homemade breads, puddings and pastries.  These tiny spaces were meant not only for embellishment,  but creating complex dishes that required multiple compartments for warming and various functions.

Old stoves are quirky, they appear charming and in my opinion are fun to use.   This Thanksgiving I made a sinfully delicious and decadent  hot chocolate pudding cake.   The cake came out beautifully-hot, sweet and unbelievably satisfying. So here’s to old stoves and second chances.

 

Photo by Taylor Kiser on Unsplashh 

So for those of you who are reading this and are now thinking of hot, sweet,  melted chocolate embedded in cake that melts in your mouth, I invite you to try the recipe. For your pleasure, I’ve posted the link below for easy access:

https://www.hersheys.com/kitchens/en_us/recipes/hot-fudge-pudding-cake.html

Bon Appetit!

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Quiet Winter

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Photo by takahiro taguchi on Unsplash

I travelled to the Northeast several winter’s ago to share joy with a friend who’s sister was having a baby shower. It was in January the dead of winter and the Northeastern hamlets were covered with blankets of snow. Beautiful pristine crystallized vistas met my gaze as we drove into her village. The air was crisp, refrigerated, but pure. The icy air cooled my airways and my lungs gratefully indulged in the clean cold air. As we walked to the front of our cottage where we were staying,  the snow crunched under our feet. Otherwise, there was silence. People were tucked away in their homes, working on keeping warm and cheerful. The promise of a new life  hovered above us.

The community was old and people didn’t usually move away. My friend and I were well into our fifties and she heralded me with stories as far back as baby music school that she and her friend that had attended. Her friend still lived in the village. Their parents were still there too. She had stories that filled the trip with history of her friends and their families. Who they were and how they came to live in the village.

After a quick dinner, we settled into a room on the top floor of the cottage. The cottage was made of beautiful wood from local Ash and Fir trees. All around the cottage was forest. A forest that would not give up and continued to thicken and thrive no matter what. To live in this forest required constant cutting back to maintain your small space amongst the giants. Outside our multi-paned window, lay an evening winter wonderland scene. The snow sparkled as rays of moonlight hit it’s surface. Giant trees cast shadows across the cottage and the landscape.

Photo by jurien huggins on Unsplash

I quickly dressed for bed in warm pajamas and climbed under a huge old comforter covered with a hand stitched quilt. I sunk my head into a soft pillow filled with down. The next thing I knew, light streamed in from the small window and was hitting my eyelids, it was morning. A gentle morning ray that cut across the gray winter sky and provided just enough illumination to establish it was daytime.

 

Photo by Ozgu Ozden on Unsplash

There were no sounds. Just quiet, stillness, my breathing. A sense of peace. It had snowed again during the night.  Fresh diamonds of ice glittered brightly across the landscape, bringing the promise of fresh water in the coming spring and new life.  I felt strangely at home. We bowed down to the cold; to it’s majesty and magic.

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Frida’s Mexican Cuisine & Cafe

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First time at Frida’s Mexican Cuisine & Cafe, the former iconic Cupid’s of Corona located at the corner of Grand and Sixth Street next to the historic raceway in the historic core of Corona. The restaurant is pristine and the food delicious. This is the real deal. Authentic Mexican recipes come to life. It’s fresh and there is a wide choice of dishes to choose from. To top it off, they have an expresso machine and a drive thru for commuters who want their lattes. Customer service is very good. The counter help is friendly and extremely helpful. There are lots of clean, comfy booths too, with a good view of a busy intersection. Great for people watching. The only thing I would change is to make room for a small stage and have poetry readings and art in the evenings. This is Frida’s after all, one of the treasures of the art world, who lived and breathed her art. “Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?” – Frida Kahlo

 

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All You Ever Wanted To Know About Bungalows Part V

Photo by Dallas Reedy on Unsplash

In this episode of my ongoing series, All You Ever Wanted To Know About Bungalows, I thought it was time to take a look at bungalow landscaping. Just like any yard, it can be anything you want it to be. I love preservation and so nothing makes me happier than to see a yard that stays true to the period of the house and supports the authenticity of the project at hand. So what does that mean in bungalow terms? Well, to answer that question, I had to go back in time and review what people did with their yards one hundred and fifty years ago when the craftsman architecture began to emerge. What were people doing with their yards back then and did many people even have them? The answer to the latter part of the question is a resounding yes. Your garden was important during this era. This was a time when there was no accessible technology. Only scientists were accessing that world and preparing it for commercialization. Owning, designing and presenting your garden were entertainment.

Photo by Loverna Journey on Unsplash

As the Craftsman movement emerged in California, adherence to the core concepts espoused by it’s English founders John Ruskin, William Morris and Augustis Pugin created a very different style of living from the accepted mores of the time. The style represented an economic and social reform that was anti-industrial. Thus, you had homes that emphasized natural materials and a layout that promoted the health of it’s inhabitants. Artistic influence was key. Acknowledging the natural creativity of the human being and utilizing this to construct the home. Beauty with intelligence was the key concept of the Craftsman architecture. Utility and reliable construction were more important than ornamentation, because what came naturally was considered ornamentation in itself.

A traditional Craftsman landscape would include a lawn in the front and ended there.  Traditionally, lawnm did not surround the home. The majority of bungalows were small and would have a smaller lawn. Trees were important and the Roosevelt Pine with it’s drooping limbs and fan like foliage added grace and a touch of wilderness to the scene. Magnolia trees were also great for shade and beauty. There would most likely be roses in a welcoming position near the pathway to the front door or at the front porch itself. Other popular plantings were wildflowers and native plants. Lilac was a favorite tree. Cactus and bougainvillea were utilized as well. The spiritual myrtle was well loved and creeping fig too.

The backyard was more rustic and usually there was a vegetable garden filled with tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes, beans, spinach, chard and kale. Benches and birdbaths were popular. Paths lined with large natural stones were also part of the more rustic landscaping. It was all about incorporating nature and maintaining a earthy and inviting setting.

Fast forward the present. Here we are in 2018, weather patterns are changing and changing the life cycle of plants. Climate change has been recognized by brilliant scientists across the globe. The topic is controversial; it’s causes and how the human race will move into the future and live in harmony with the changes occurring. Current recommendations in Southern California are to go with drought resistant plants. These also make a welcoming and gorgeous landscape. These were already used in the past to a lesser degree, but now we are encouraged to let our lawns go to save precious water.  Utilize plants that are hardy and need small amounts of watering. Several homes in my historic neighborhood have embraced this movement and their yards look amazing. This gardening concept is slowly taking hold, but has a significant presence.

Photo by Adolfo Félix on Unsplash

The last addition to be made to a Craftsman garden is rustic lawn furniture.  Furniture made of tree canes blends well into the naturescape.  A bird fountain to attract feathered friends.  In the larger, grander properties, Koi ponds were popular.

Photo by Ashwin Vaswani on Unsplash

Craftsman culture encompasses the love of the outdoor space and it’s importance cannot be diminished. Whether it be carefully designed and executed; or left to nature, the Craftsman architecture inspires a creative and beautiful outdoor space.  Head out soon to any historic district in Southern California, especially the Inland Empire and you will find no end to the beautiful examples of classic Craftsman landscaping.

Photo by Jørgen Håland on Unsplash

Meaningful Green:

Magnolia trees (Magnoliaceae): Symbol of feminine strength, faith, beauty, gentleness, purity and nobility.

Myrtle (Mertus) Symbol of beauty, love, paradise, sweetness, justice, divine generosity, peace, and recovery.

Cactus (Cactaceae): warmth, protection, endurance and maternal love.

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Old Genova

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Photo by Kiwihug on Unsplash

It’s finally October in Southern California. This is always the first day of the holidays for me. It starts with Halloween, then Thanksgiving, Christmas and the grand finale New Years. I went out to do shopping and I was struck how bright and hot the sun was. Halloween was coming with it’s impending delights, short days and long, cold, starlit nights. Halloween was usually the first day of really cold weather. Along with holiday, came the cold, folklore and horror stories of Halloween. The holiday took the stage for a yearly celebration filled with madness and fun. All things of the night were about to arise and the first celebration of the fall to begin. This time of year brought back memories of journeys long ago. Memories of an ancient Italian city by the sea, mysterious and beautiful, where mariners had set off for voyages into the unknown. Where mysteries and the dark secrets of more than one thousand years lay in wait in the dark crevices of ancient stone and alley ways.

When I was young I was sent to work in Genova, the home of Christopher Columbus, who had discovered the Americas. I was sent there to dance with my troupe in a small nightclub overlooking the Mediterranean. When we weren’t working, we took advantage of the free time to discover and explore the old city and it’s mysteries.

Genova is an ancient city in a region that has been populated since a thousand years before the birth of Christ. It’s located on the Western seaboard of Italy and just South of the French Riviera. It’s magnificent and very, very old. The city is imbued with a heavy ambience and it’s multitude of passages are very dark. As night falls, the mists of the ancient Mediterranean sea creep over the stony beaches, up ancient stone sea walls and onto the cobblestones of the streets of Genova. The mist twists it’s way among the city passages and thickens as the midnight hour approaches. The moisture carries the aromas of sea life and jurassic flavors that thicken the misty soup with the daily remnants that local fisherman have left behind. It drenches the city, coating the walls, window ledges, rusted iron balconies and creeps into every architectural crevice. The streets of old Genova twist and intersect comprising a maze of history and life histories that have passed centuries before our time. The buildings are huge antiquities mostly filled with apartments. Apartments the size of small palaces. Small balconies are suspended from exterior patios, decorated with plants, laundry and other evidence of human life. During the day, along streets made of aged and black cobblestones, men gather and smoke or share an espresso.

Our apartment was located just a block from the beach, close to the port. When we walked downward toward the sea we eventually reached a man made stone parapice that overlooked the huge ships that were docked in the port. The port where Christopher Colombus had set sail and made modern history. I learned early on that the multitude of neighborhood bars served thick rich syrupy espresso with melted sugar blended into the richness. If there was milk, it came from a box that expired after one year.

Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash

After we finished our work at two in the morning, we usually weren’t sleepy. We were on an adrenaline high of performing for almost four hours straight, with just small breaks in between. There wasn’t much to do in the sleepy port, so we would walk. We walked and we discovered the people of the night and the places that were alive through the hours of darkness. One of the nicest surprises were the bakeries. While the Genovese slept, the bakers and pastries chefs of the city worked through the night creating delicious breads and treats. We were a crowd of five young women, five foot nine and taller and slim. A baker’s helper all in white and a smile of icy white teeth, called out to us. “Eh Gazelle!” We stopped. He led us in to a large sparkling kitchen filled with clouds of the aroma of warm, fresh baked bread. There were trays of delicate pastries infused with custard, coated with chocolate toppings and small garnishments of mint leaves, fruit or candies in all colors of the rainbow. The head chef was pulling a huge tray of focaccia from the oven to be delivered to the local bars to accompany the morning coffee. He began to shove bread at us and filled white bags full of the treats. “Manga! Manga!” and then he pushed us into the street again and called out “adomani!” And we did come back the next morning and the next. The bakers became our friends and one of the girls even began dating one.

If we walked away from the old city away from the port and up towards the hills of northern Italy, the streets eventually widened and let in light. The stone became lighter, soft yellow and white. During daylight hours, glimmering and irridescent shop windows displayed the latest italian fashions in bold colors. Neon blinked on and off advertising fun shopping and cafes with gelato. If you changed your direction and headed east you ended up in the hills. The hills glowed and were dotted with olive trees and cypress. If you looked to the west the ocean glimmered in the sun and became sparkling and iridescent as the sun played upon the aqua waves. The city was magic and beautiful. A city by the sea filled with mystery and possibilities.

Photo by Juliana Malta on Unsplash

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Ancient Summer

Photo by Max Hofstetter on Unsplash

I live in a house that’s over a hundred years old. To someone from the East Coast or Europe, it’s not really such a big deal or ancient. But in California it qualifies as old. Our oldest building in California is the Mission San Juan Capistrano, which is 236 years old, but there are not many like her. Over the years, people have asked me, what is it like to live in a old house?

Currently, it’s summer, so most of my perspective is coming from that place. Basically, it’s hot. We are into September, which is still kind of summer in the Inland Empire and it was 100 yesterday. It was 117 last month and was up to 106 three days in a row during one week. Yes, I have central air conditioning. And I have a friend that put down new base boards for me, so that forced cold air now stays in the house. When I first moved into the house, there were cracks and gaps everywhere and light actually shown through. Did this disturb me? No. I liked the fact that fresh air was constantly being exchanged and I could see sunlight peeking through near the floor. I even got up at a Board of Realtors meeting in Corona and expoused on the benefits of air exchange in old bungalows, so that gives you a big clue where I’m coming from when discussing restoration and preserving the originalty of antique structures. It’s that type of perspective that you find from people who live in old houses. It’s a love for imperfection caused by years of wear and tear. A love of fine craftsmanship from a day gone by that is hard to find in new construction these days. If you want it, you have to pay a dear price, whereas at the turn of the century most men had to know how to work with their hands and took immense pride in what they created.

Photo by Jørgen Håland on Unsplash

So this house is made of redwood and it gets hot. I asked my son why the electric company sent us a notice informing us that I used too much electricity-more electricity than 100 of my neighbors within a mile radius. He matter of factly told me; you live in an old house. A lot of the comparable were with neighbors from up the street. They have new modern systems that don’t use as much energy to cool their homes. You know the houses are air tight and stuccoed as well and help to stabilize the temperature.

I appreciate the benefits of stucco, but redwood is so beautiful and strong that it’s hard for me to see past that. The older the wood is, the more value it holds. Old wood is sturdy and tough and great for building. It comes from trees that lived long lives before they were cut down. It can be as hard as cement.The wood holds a spirit and character that lends a certain ambience when you build a home out of it.

Oh I know, you are probably thinking that trees and wood don’t have personality or life. My beliefs are different. Trees keep us alive and without trees, human life would not exist. Trees, especially ancient trees have lived through climate change, wars, pollution and natural disasters. They absorb the stuff of life and it’s held within their roots, trunk and foliage. When a tree is harvested for building, along with it’s wood comes all of the energy and nutrients it absorbed over it’s lifespan. The wood holds all of that and it holds it for a long time. The oldest wooden house in the world is over 700 years old. The house is in Switzerland and the local belief is that as long as someone lives in the house and lives a good life, it will remain strong and provide a safe and comfortable shelter.

Photo by Joel & Jasmin Førestbird on Unsplash

When I was in the market for a house, I fell in love with my old house at first sight. There was an inexplicable ambience when I walked through the front door that was hard to describe. It was pleasant and gentle, almost a loving feeling that permeated the warm and musty interior. Later, I found out that the house had been lived in by many good people. A farmer, a Navy officer, teachers, an attorney and many more. A passionate teen romance had played itself out on the second story of the house. In the attic were old love letters stashed away and favorite toys. The couple had cast their initials with a heart in cement next to the vintage light post outside.

Certain days during the summer, I’ll go up to the second story where it’s almost impossible to cool down the rooms and sit in the heat and soak in the hot air, the agedness of the house. The smell of the redwood and old plaster is released into the atmosphere. Memories of my own life, raising my children in the house, restoration projects and community meetings move about the room and come to life. It’s deeply satisfying and spiritual; an affirmation that the circle of life is there and goes on beautifully with love and care.

Photo by Edgar Guerra on Unsplash