Franklinsanity

A crank's musings on family, drink, travel, food & life

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  • Brunch – and on the road

    Brunch – and on the road

    1:17 pm – somewhere on the road to Amarillo, TX, after a delightful brunch at the Inn of the Anasazi in Santa Fe, which I was amused to discover is a Rosewood Hotel! 

    (Those in SF will be similarly amused; it was well appointed and had quality food – but was a little short on VC’s and Cougars as far as we could see.)

    Still, this lack didn’t stop a mom from accosting Kingsley as I waited outside a gift shop with the dogs. She rubbed him very aggressively and announced several times that she REALLY liked his “chunky body” and “strong frame.”  I figure this makes up for the woman at Dillon Beach in SF who looked at him, puffed out her cheeks and made a round symbol with her hands when I told her he was a mini goldendoodle. Her reply:  “he’s not so mini.”

    Karma I guess. 

  • White Noise: Going to the Dogs

    White Noise: Going to the Dogs

    6:19 am, Santa Fe, NM.  The sun’s been up for awhile.  Fortunately, there are a lot of blinds in the room.  The kids, and dogs, have been rising too early and not napping.  Meaning they melt down too early too.  Hopefully they’ll sleep in a bit, in our adobe-style suite (which is rustic, but huge and nice).

    That said, despite the sleeping family, it’s far from quiet.  In fact, it’s so loud in here   I can’t hear a damn thing.

    That’s because we have not one, but two, sound machine apps on – filling the air with a sound not unlike that inside a jet at 35,000 feet.  You know that sound.  It’s the one that makes a ton of money for those clever folks at Bose, who went from great speakers to “noise-cancelling” headphones.

    Now, the kids have always slept with one of these things, ever since they were newborns.  At this stage, it’s Pavlovian.  They’ll have to be older and make a conscious choice not to go to bed with white noise in the background.

    And yet, speaking of Pavlov, it’s the dogs that, as always, so subtly (not) manipulate our travel.  The reason I’m in white noise immersion?  This year, at any rate, the dogs are so hyped up that the slightest noise in the room; outside; or, say, 5 blocks away sets them to barking.

    Guess what’s typical of a damn hotel, however nice?  Occasional door closings, murmured conversation, etc.  Or traffic.  Or birdsong.

    So:  we need to make our dogs deaf.  Hence the multiple white noise apps on iPads and phones etc.

    Don’t mistake me:  it’s good the dogs are protective.  In fact, I wish they had been MORE protective when the meth-freak stalked HHW in the Safeway parking lot yesterday.  But in terms of restful wind-downs from a long day, these animals need to chill.

    Maybe they just need some weed?  JK, JK – I love my dogs.  I would never have them toke up.  (I don’t even know if that’s the proper terminology.)  We’ll just have to keep soothing them with affection.  And jet airplane noise.

    Other snaps from yesterday:

  • Interlude:  “Hard Hittin” Explanation

    Some of you have inquired about the title “Hard Hittin’ Wife.”.

    Most especially, Hard Hittin Wife.

    Although she knows perfectly well, it’s a fair point that others don’t. She hails originally from New Britain, CT – otherwise known as “Hard Hittin’ New Britain.”

    There are quite a few proposed derivations on the Web. HHW’s preferred one is the extraordinally talented high school football team, which seems to overcome routine drive-by shootings to send a large number of folks to the NFL.

    I’ll leave it to y’all to research it. But officially, HHW is geographically derived.

    Now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.

  • Flagstaff, or The Gophers

    Flagstaff, or The Gophers

    4:45 pm, Gallup, NM – so we’ve covered a lot today, but the blog has fallen behind!  So let’s catch up:

    • We stayed in Flagstaff last night. GREAT town; we’ll have to come back and spend more time there. Diablo Burger was as good as advertised, and, man, was the IPA welcome. Over a hundred degrees in he desert…Flagstaff was a cool, Marin-like 76 degrees. 
    • Our first Airbnb:  win. Slightly rando ex-urb community outside Flagstaff:  huge yards, surrounded by mountains, modest ranch-style houses. We stayed in a two-bedroom outbuilding next to the main house. Very pleasant, somewhat stoner dude greeted us and the dogs, then retreated to build a massive bonfire in a 15-foot firepit about 100 yards from the houses. He had other guests too – staying on a trampoline in his large yard. Wonder if that was Airbnb’d too?
    • Regardless of the burners in the yard, the house was beautifully equipped and crazy inexpensive. Kudos to HHW. 
    • Starting day this morning at 6 am, the dogs, Quinn and I discovered a ton of gopher holes in the yard. The dogs hunted hard, but no gopher love. Fun. Maybe next time. 
    • We then hit the Grand Canyon. This blog can’t possibly do it justice. Suffice to say it silenced and captivated Teddy – who is thus struck only by sports – to such an extent that, when asked if he wanted to climb a tower and see a gift shop, he said he just wanted to stay outside and look. Just a shockingly awesome site. Unlike the Mona Lisa, it makes the tourists look small, rather than vice versa. 
    • 3 con calls and many connectivity problems – and a creepy encounter with some sort of panhandling crackhead outside a Safeway Starbucks – later, we’re  heading hard for Santa Fe. HHW is once again driving. 
    • Enjoyed the welcome to AZ sign:  a nice big starburst. Enjoyed the welcome to NM  sign much more, as it declared this state a land of “enchantment.”  Minus the crackhead, couldn’t agree more – the buttes and desert, the clouds and cloud shadows, amazing. 

    Other fun parts of the day so far?  Listening to Teddy laugh hysterically at funny parts in Harry Potter; encouraging HHW to get aggressive passing a maniacally bad driver, and not getting my head cut off, and walking to the top of the fake Native American tower with Quinn to look over the GC. 

    Oh, and the 75 mph speed limit. 

    We’ve moved the dogs into the backseat with the kids. We’ll see how that goes!

  • Diablo May Care

    Diablo May Care

    4:33 pm somewhere near Ash Fork, Az. Once again, did a lot of driving…so far. At least for me. 

    Guess this may be the new normal – HHW has work to do too, after all.

    But for now, enjoying high plains (maybe?) major clouds, scrub and the landscape shadows the two create on a bright day. JT is singing about sunshine in his pocket – Princess Q is asleep and T is puttering around with a workbook. The dogs are chewing on new treats, which is good because Oonagh briefly kept trying to recap the trunk. 

    Looking forward to dinner in Flagstaff in 45 mins – hoping Diablo Burger, our dog-friendly restaurant, lives up to the hype. 

    Hoping also they have a bar. This driving is thirsty work. 

    Not much drama today – T increasingly mischievous and prone to annoying his sister in goofy (read: asshat) ways. Hoping it’s just early summer hi-jinks, since she’s increasingly prone to shrieking or hitting him in retaliation. 

    You know, perfect behavior for a road trip. 

    Oh, there was the moment Kingsley pulled Quinn half over a picnic table and onto the ground at a rest stop. That was fun!  He could probably pull the car if it was in neutral. Dog has a low center of gravity. And by that I mean he is fat, but surprisingly strong. 

    Tomorrow = Grand Canyon!  And conference calls!!  And a long drive but end goal is New Mexico, a state I’m eager to revisit, as I haven’t been there since I was about five. Looking forward to soaking in the vibe. 

    And a real hotel. 

  • Do you know the way to Santa Fe

    Do you know the way to Santa Fe

    9:52 am, somewhere near Tehachapi – HHW once again at the wheel. All is therefore normal. 

    Passing massive hills, and massive wind farms. State Route 58 through the Mojave Desert and right next to the Air and Space Port, where actual rockets are tested. (This was one of the few facts that distracted Ted from his constant need to hear Goblet of Fire on the audio Kindle.)

    HHW insisted Edwards Air Force Base was TopGun. But it is not (thanks, Wikipedia). It IS connected to Area 51, though that is in Nevada somewhere. 

    Loving the road signs for e.g., Boron and Needles. And the Arabian RV Oasis. 

    Truly disconcerting listening to detailed Quidditch discussions as we pass through the Mojave while also talking about drones, aliens, UFOs and rockets. Not to mention how windmills generate electricity. 

    Onward. 

  • The Remains of D-Day

    The Remains of D-Day

    There are no butlers in Bakersfield.

    There is, however, the Steak & Grape.  This proved to be an unbelievably friendly bar/restaurant tucked away in a mall (where else) in a part of California heralded by highway signs telling us to expect unusually heavy dust for the next 40 miles.

    The steak was actually good (not to sound like an asshole; there seem to be plenty of cows around).  More surprisingly, Hard Hittin’ Wife enjoyed her scallops and pasta.  I thought that order a bold move, but the bartender swore by it, and HHW went for it.

    The Kim Crawford SB was, as always, great.  No, I didn’t switch to red for the steak.

    Get over it.

    The dogs were welcome on the patio, and the amusingly large crowd of cougars and their plus ones didn’t seem to mind them.

    T&Q worked their way through the first of days of road food – chicken strips and a burger.  I predict they’ll actually be desperate for veggies by the time we get to Santa Fe (and our first truly nice hotel).

    I might have driven as much as HHW today, a real aberration – based on Franklinsanity2015.  Hard Hittin’ also barely twitched an eyelid at lane-changing and  boxing out of various jackasses whose move was to drive 95 in the slow lane, pull up behind the semi’s there, and then try to cut right without signaling.

    I don’t know that I’m comfortable with this change in therapeutically-certified marital driving roles.

    Plus, it makes it hard to provide meta-commentary on Harry Potter for the kids. Think of the kids, Kelly.  The kids!  So, here, honey, have some more coffee – it’s only another 5 hours to Flagstaff. Sure, we can keep the T-Pain voice on Waze (WTF, btw). You’re a much safer driver, anyhoo.

    Kidding.  It’s more like 7.5. Speaking of, time to get some shut eye.  Big day tomorrow – maybe a swim in the AM, maybe a visit to Boot Barn (what could go wrong?).

     

  • Launch

    Launch

    1:51 pm PT. Somewhere on the Richmond Bridge. 

    Departure, finally. An hour behind schedule, but who’s counting?  

    I blame a stuffy called Foxy, who was left in the wrong car. Blast you, Foxy. 

    Kingsley probably is also counting. He’s forgotten he doesn’t need to go to the bathroom every 30 seconds – thinks he’s going to the beach. 

    Well, Kingsley, the next beach you see while be the ding-dang Atlantic Ocean, or some related body of water.  

    Ok, back to navigating. So unhappy the family found out Waze had T Pain’s voice as an option. What the hell is wrong with Jane?

  • Anticipation 

    Anticipation 

    The children are ready to go. Hard Hittin’ Wife, not so much. Nor Dad, really. 

    I still need to eat lunch. Can’t navigate hangry. 

    Eventually, though, it’s off to Bakersfield, CA. Home of….what, exactly?

    Last year our first stop was Martis Camp, in Colorado, at our friends’ gorgeous house. (Hi, Kawajas!). This year, evidently, we are slumming it, at least out of the gate. 

  • Franklinsanity Redux

    Franklinsanity Redux

    At long last, the wait is over. All 17 of our readers – give or take 15 or so – will once again be able to enjoy the rich experience of family travel with two dogs and two kids across the USA. 

    Vicariously. 

    Car is more or less packed. It’s a bigger car:  Toyota Highlander vs. last year’s VW Tiguan. (Apparently we only do big trips in cars made by scandal-plagued companies, though I guess for Toyota it’s been awhile.)  I wanted the Audi, but Hard Hittin’ Wife found a better deal at Toyota. Plus the kids have already started destroying it, so. 

    The dogs are restless. They know something is up, but not what, exactly. So they are barking a lot, and gnawing on their bone things. 

    Did I mention we are Airbnb’ing the house?  Because we are. That’s Franklinsanity – always make family habits more challenging. Cross-country car trip in a tiny SUV with dogs and kids?  Check. Bigger car?  Too easy!  Rent the house, too. 

    Means when I fly back to SF for work, I will be relying on the kindness of friends for a roof over my head. Oh, and some strange, non-sharing-economy things called hotels. 

    Will sign on again when we’re on the road. If Hard Hittin’ Wife ever comes back from work!