Back to Eureka

. . . which is our most conveniently accessed “big city.” I’ve written about Eureka here and here, and although those two posts have cool photos, I’ve never posted one of Eureka. Hmm, let’s see what I can get off Google.

Ah, there we go. Eureka at its finest: the peace march on March 20, 2004. That’s what I like about Eureka: it’s called home by a few thousand folks who would be right at home in Berkeley.

And what is it about Berkeley, anyway? I spent four years of my life there, but it feels more like home to me than the San Gabriel Valley, where I’ve spent 23 years, or Palo Alto, where I spent 7. Or, for that matter, my current digs, where we have lived since ’98. So home is where the heart is, and I left my heart in Berkeley, is that it? And a rolling stone gathers no moss and the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

More rambling below the cut.

Jake and I were going stir crazy this morning so the three of us decided to take a drive. But, where to go? It came down to (A) Bandon, where they have the nation’s largest petting zoo but no immediately obvious place to eat, or (B) Eureka, where they have a Borders Bookstore, a CostCo, and several good restaurants. We followed our stomachs. Besides, Jake seemed disturbed by the idea of getting goat poop on the soles of his shoes.

Borders provided me another opportunity to witness the wasteland that is modern SF (or at least, the wasteland that is the SF rack at Borders). I bought Cuba Cocina, a Cuban cookbook, and Jake picked up New Moon, Stephenie Meyer’s sequel to Twilight, which we both read. Karen couldn’t find anything she liked.

We hit CostCo and bought a memory stick, some fresh fruit, DVDRs, VHS tapes, and tons of plastic garbage bags. Because you can never leave too big a plastic footprint on the environment, you know?

And then we went to Cin Cin for an early dinner. We had a great meal last time we went to Cin Cin, but this time, meh. Jake liked his gnocchi, but Karen’s pumpkin ravioli? Let’s just say it was a pale shadow of my sweet potato ravioli. I ordered the special, a seafood ravioli in a glowing yellow-orange saffron sauce. The raviolis were made with squid ink pasta, so the overall presentation (black on orange), while dramatic, was perhaps not terribly appetizing. I could have forgiven the appearance if the flavor had been there, but it wasn’t. The filling had an ill-defined “off” quality suggestive of canned crab, the pasta was way too al dente for my taste, and the sauce’s flavor was not as bright as its color.

But the wine rocked. Mmmm. Viognier.

Ugh. Back to work tomorrow.

Before we left for Eureka, I had a good morning writing — close to 2000 words. I’m close, so close. All I need now is for my muse to close the deal. Then I’ll reread the new stuff, ship it out to my betas, and wait for folks (the ones who actually feel like reading this rewrite) to tell me if this ending sucks less than the last one.

My mind is turning back to Nest, too. That’s the first novel in my trilogy, for those of you who haven’t been around here long. And jeez that’s a fine story. I know I should probably show more humility, but I think Nest is great. I write stories with a “please myself first” philosophy, so what would you expect? Of course I love it.

I think I’ve been away from it long enough to not dread editing it. Yippee!

See ya tomorrow.

D.

Walnut, April 29, 2007. Category: Food, Writer's Life.

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