See ya, Michael.

My brain is still buzzing. Charlotte, North Carolina! Unreal! I didn’t sleep well as I was thinking about his plans, my plans, our plans – everything.

On the way to the airport Michael did his best to calm me down. He said that his top priority is our family. If (and there are a few ifs) he takes this job it would be a gradual transition. He would be one of those commuter employees and only a part-time one at that, as he is committed to the smooth running of Red House. He would also be very involved in the choosing of his replacement. The business would not suffer – this he assured me of. The rest of it – how our ENTIRE LIVES would play out is another issue entirely. He asked that I not get ahead of myself on that one right now - too many unknowns. What is known is that I’m not known for my patience, but I will try. At least temporarily.

I dropped Michael off at SFO and went to pick up the kids, who were staying with my parents at Calistoga Ranch. Good thing I called first as it was morning and my mom reminded me that the kids were in school. Oh, right! She was surprised to hear from me a day early. (Not as surprised as I was to be here a day early.) I made plans to meet my parents for lunch and then surprise Delia and Andrew by picking them up at school.

Back to work and plenty of it. This trip was the first time Michael and I had been away from Red House for more than two days since we launched the business. I have to say, Kerin did very well while we were gone. Not that I expected disasters, but there were multiple orders coming in that she had to deal with in addition to her administrative responsibilities. I wasn’t sure how she’d do under pressure, and it was great to find out that she has the ability and motivation to effectively handle quality control and client contact too. I learned that she also fielded some new business inquiries with professionalism and flair. I see an evolving role for Kerin. She asked where Michael was and I thought about telling her, but we had stitching to check this morning on 78 shirts. I just said he had a family issue. The facts can wait for another day!

Road Trip Day Five: U-Turn

Michael had told me he had a surprise planned for the last night of our trip. Was that why we had to leave quickly? He seemed rushed as he gathered up his things in the room. I asked again. He sat on the edge of the fussy lace bedspread and told me that we were going to go to Ashland, Oregon, to spend our last day touring Rogue River Valley wineries, and our last night seeing a play at the fabled Oregon Shakespeare Festival, but that’s all off now because he found out he had to get back today to catch a flight tomorrow to Charlotte, N.C. Why? FOR A JOB INTERVIEW! I was floored, and suddenly enraged. I wanted to grab something and throw it across the room. There was a china tea set handy but Michael gave me his “think first” look, as I was about to pitch the sugar bowl. What followed was an outburst - me raising my voice and giving the other guests (who were still down at breakfast at least, and not right next door) their own reason to dislike Bed & Breakfasts. Michael suggested I take my rants to an even smaller space – our car. And so I did. For 100’s of miles south it was mainly me talking, well, arguing, about whatever he said. I don’t remember any of the scenery going back, and then we were finally on a particularly bleak stretch of interstate anyway. I had a lot of questions and even more complaints.

Michael said he wasn’t looking for a job, but was approached by someone he knew from his business school network. The opportunity was awesome, and yes, it was in Charlotte, which he said had changed from a backwater to a banking hub. He admitted that with Red House poised to grow it would be difficult to turn the financial aspects of the company over to someone else, but he said he had thought it through and it was do-able. More so now than it would be later.

He had planned to tell me about the interview when we got back home, and that he was sorry that instead he had to cut short (and mess up) our trip, but all the people who wanted to interview him were all going to be in Charlotte at the same time so he had to fly out tomorrow. I ran the gamut of emotion – why did he even need a career outside of Red House? And what about US?! Delia and Andrew?! Life in Napa?! I knew the south could not come close in terms of appeal.

After what felt like forever on the road we were back in Napa. Near perfect Napa. It was late; I’d get the kids tomorrow after taking Michael to the airport. I sat on the deck for a while, just thinking – where would all of this lead…?

Road Trip Day Four, Continued: Eureka!

Eureka means, “We found it!” and we did – before lunch. A quaint city of Victorian homes, it has seen better, noisier days as a shipping port for the many logs felled in Humboldt.

Though Michael knows I dislike Bed & Breakfasts and Victoriana, it was his idea to stay at an authentic Victorian B&B. He thought that the style elements might be a source of inspiration for my work at Red House. He also thought the experience of sharing a bathroom and breakfast with perfect strangers would help me in my quest to acquire patience. Well, it didn’t help that I started out tired, and that I had to stake out some space in the parlor to get some work done while Michael explored Old Town. I’m not used to dealing with distractions such as the public coming in off the street and inquiring about vacancies. And it was nearly impossible to get a wireless signal with all the heavy tapestries and stuffed animals clogging the air space. Being seated at the Victorian séance table was sort of unnerving too. Plus, the velvet chair I had to sit in was precisely a right angle. Better to conjure the undead from a position of excellent posture, I guess. And there was so much clutter in the room that I had trouble concentrating. Stuffed peacock! Antlers! Dolls with tiny teeth that looked like they were taken from real children! And the effect of fringed red silk lampshades is to draw all of the light from the room and reflect back onto me a devilish red pallor. I decided to have a glass of whatever was in the room’s decanter. Wow - one ghastly sip told me it was just for show. Eventually, I settled into a working mode, though when all was said and done Michael accomplished more than I – he found a real gem of a restaurant, Avalon. It’s got to be the only local recipient of the Wine Spectator Award of Excellence. (See it at avaloneureka.com) If you find yourself here you have to go for the pear, bacon and gorgonzola salad - and the smoked quail. Of course, the substantial wine list was a delight after my day in the parlor.

Back at the inn: The bathroom was down the hall and some dark and creaky stairs, but no one was in it when I got there – a plus. We tucked in to what was for us a tiny bed, but it was the rock-hard pillows that made it difficult to sleep. I must have managed though as I was awakened by the sound of talking in the hallway and doors opening and closing. It was 3:14! And again - more of the same at 4:30! Who stays out that late? See what I mean about B&Bs?! Naturally, Michael slept through the noise. I didn’t get back to sleep until it was about time to get up anyway. And I had spent hours thinking about whether to go find the parlor and drain the moonshine from the decanter, but figured I’d crash into one of the priceless antique gramophones en route.

Six normal looking people were seated in the dining room with fruit cups in front of them when Michael and I came down for breakfast. I expected at least two of them to be hung-over 20-somethings, but no. The innkeeper offered us coffee, which we enthusiastically accepted, and then Michael and I exchanged a wide-eyed glance – the coffee was barely tea colored and was flavored with vanilla – GAG! But we learned the story of the nocturnal noise – the poor couple! They came all the way from Alabama for a wedding in the redwoods and their rental car broke down as they were driving back to Eureka. They were by the side of the road for hours waiting for a tow truck. Dazed and confused, they left their cell phone in the truck when it dropped them at the B&B. They fell asleep only to be awakened an hour later by the innkeeper, who had to roust them to the phone in the parlor to take a call from their rental car company. Whoa.

The innkeeper seemed distressed that I hardly ate any of my breakfast, a huge platter of French toast encircled by a string of sausages. There was a good half-pound of powdered sugar there, plus islands of butter adrift on a sea of syrup! I was somewhat ashamed of myself and tried to divert the innkeeper’s attention to a portrait on the wall, which I commented on, saying it looked just like Joseph Stalin. The innkeeper looked as if she’d been kicked in the head, “That’s my great-great Grandfather.” (Ouch!) I wasn’t making any friends here. Michael saved the day by announcing that we had to go. (We did?!)

Road Trip Day Four: Checking Out!

When we got back to the room I started throwing things into my bag. I wanted to leave that instant! Michael suggested I take a deep breath, gather my brain cells and reconsider. Where would we go this late? He had a point. My client was right (at least about one thing!) - it is secluded here. We agreed to stay, and be out before dawn so as not to risk her seeing us. She’s a good client and I plan to just pretend forever that I didn’t see her in a plum silk jacquard dress with a vine pattern lace overlay. (Lace is a major trend this year.) I’ll always remember the details: she had a small, beaded evening bag, and her “date” appeared to be wearing a Red House Textured Silk Polo (RH-10) in Steel Gray. They were laughing and sharing a bottle of Perrier Jouet champagne like they were the only people there. How really shocking! Michael suggested I spend some quality time with the laptop. Guess he wanted to get some rest for our early checkout, and he was probably exhausted listening to me speculate on why, who, blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t sleep of course, and so I typed for hours.

I was up first as it takes me longer to get ready. Michael will take 15 minutes top from leaving the bed to starting the car. And he’ll look great. How does he do it?! I gathered up everything I’d need in the bathroom so as not to wake Michael after my shower. I quietly closed the door, turned on the light, pulled back the shower curtain and after a half second of cognitive dissonance/predawn brain fog I screamed – “BAT!” I dropped my robe and about 30 different hair and makeup items onto the tile floor, ran out and slammed the door. Michael sat up in bed with a look of horror, and I don’t think it was because of the bat. He told me to calm down (grrr!) and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I heard quiet. Then… tooth brushing! I slowly opened the door and he gestured to the empty shower with its little window open, just like I left it last night before I knew about the bats. Mumbling, with toothpaste running down his chin, he said I had scared it good. I know, harmless. (But Michael never watched horror movies like I did…)

We checked out without incident. No client sightings and no citation for my disturbing the peace. There was even coffee in the lobby, for which I was extremely grateful.

It’s beautiful on the coast this early in the morning with dappled, though cool sunlight streaming through the clouds. We don’t have a long drive and will be spending the night in the Victorian Seaport town of Eureka. The coffee is wearing off though so I think I’ll sleep until it’s my turn to drive.

Road Trip Day Three, Continued: Checking In

The desk clerk told me that Reggae on the River was held at Benbow Lake this year – a little too close to the Inn, she said, as they had to chase more than the usual number of squatters off their lawn, and in one case out of an attic. The people we had
seen were real hangers-on, as
the festival happened months ago.

The Benbow Inn was dreadlock-free when we checked in, and my only concern was the giant stuffed teddy bear “having tea” in the lobby, which reminded me of all the cluttered bed-and-breakfasts we’ve stayed in. I need not have worried - our room is tastefully furnished with antiques - no feared Victorian bric-a-brac. There’s even a small window in the shower – cute!

Almost time for dinner, but here’s what I’ve learned: the hotel is on the Register of National Historic Places, built in 1926 to provide distinctive lodging and recreational opportunities for travelers on the just-completed Redwood Highway. (Check it out: www.benbowinn.com.) Its architect was Albert Farr, known in my neck of the woods for The Wolf House, Jack London’s Glen Ellen home. Situated to enjoy views of the Eel River, the hotel was created in the English Tudor style with intricate wood and stonework. Several presidents have stayed here, though probably not Reagan or he’d have come to know some redwoods. Two of the on-holiday-from-Hollywood guests included Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy. Most notably, the restaurant is superb, the recipient of the Wine Spectator’s Award of Excellence for ten straight years. And if it wasn’t awesome there would be a problem as there doesn’t appear to be another place nearby for dinner. My client was right - this place is secluded!

We dined on the terrace with view of the romantic gardens. Though it was chilly, I was comfortable wrapped in my ever-present pashmina. We lingered over a molten chocolate cake baked just for us – heavenly indulgence! I heard a “swoosh” sound nearby and saw a shadow flitting by in the moonlight. Huh. And again. I looked over at a nearby table and asked the equally puzzled-looking woman seated there, “Was that a...bat?!” Sure enough, illuminated by the moonlight in a perfect Hitchcock-ian Halloween tableau, BATS!! Lots and lots of them streaming from the eaves and even some of the attic windows! Were they seeking insects? Chocolate cake? Or had they developed a taste for tourist blood?! Michael was nonchalant about the whole thing but not I; it was time to get indoors. I fled with the cake and stopped at the front desk to share my possible-near-death-by-exsanguination experience, but the night manager was not buying it. She said the bats were harmless and had been in residence for decades. In the 1960’s, sensing the discomfort of “certain guests” (she didn’t have to say it: the namby-pamby Maddies) the hotel owners paid some teenagers 5¢ per captured bat and they nearly went broke. (Eeeew - and what might they have done with all the bat bodies?!) She did offer us a complimentary sherry in the bar, you know, to steady our nerves. We liked that – and the polished wood was lovely, like an English gentlemen’s’ club. I could picture Ralph Lauren kicking back in his own cozy lair. We were trying to picture him swatting at bats with a vintage tennis racket in his signature classic whites when my eye caught something else that made me shiver. This time it was not a bat, but my client, the one who recommended this place to me. She was ensconced in a dark corner canoodling with a man I knew was NOT HER HUSBAND! Unbelievable! We had to get out of the bar – and the hotel – without her seeing us!

Road Trip Day Three, Continued: Naked up North

The redwoods, wow! This is a whole new part of California for us. Does any other state have this much natural variety? I don’t think so. And I’m not sure if I believe President Reagan really said, “If you’ve seen one redwood you’ve seen them all.” At least when seen looking up from a hike they are quite varied in age and appearance. Driving along the “Avenue of Giants”, Michael and I were just in awe of these spectacular trees. There’s something so majestic about anything that can survive hundreds of years of earthquakes, fires, stormy winters, treehouse-building and SHARP AXES to grow to such towering heights – some are 360’! The younger ones really have it easy (like today’s kids!) as there are protections in place to ensure their future. I took a lot of pictures, again finding inspiration that I can draw on for Red House in the forest’s many shades of brown and the greens of the ferns, mosses and rolling farmlands. Grays too - the sky is different here. We are in Humboldt County, which, like Mendocino, is quiet enough to encourage agriculturally-minded counterculturalists to make this their dope growing destination. We didn’t see it but we did see some of them – naked!

Hiking led to hunger and we packed a picnic lunch to enjoy on the banks of the Humboldt River. Drifting down the river was a truck-size inner tube containing four young revelers who were enjoying golden-hued beverages from what appeared to be Mason jars. (Probably not vintage chardonnay.) They waved, and we could see clearly that they were naked! It wasn’t even warm out - at all! Astonishing! We waved back and shook our heads, feeling the fall chill and grateful for Gortex hiking gear and good wine.

Back on the road, and not too far up the highway, we saw what appeared to be some sort of a camp. And a colorful sign, “Reggae on The River”. Tents too, festooned with flags in the Rastafarian green, red and gold. And several more naked people dancing near a campfire! Unlike the inner-tubers, these folks could not be considered young by any stretch mark of the imagination. (So you know - that was Michael’s comment, not mine!) I was reminded of the guy whose robe fell open at the Sonoma spa last summer. Another image forever etched into my brain. Yuck. At least Michael saw this one, albeit from a distance that made the “details” fuzzy.

And sorry to disappoint you but no, Michael and I did not join the party and shed our inhibitions. We are staying, clothed, at The Benbow Inn in Garberville. This is another place you just can’t miss on your California adventuring. It was recommended by a client who said she comes up here all the time. She raved about the secluded setting.

Time to check in!

Road Trip Day Three: Mendocino and Meow

We skipped out on what would have probably been an awesome breakfast, but after the lassitude that followed the waffles and massage of yesterday we decided to get an earlier start and check out Mendocino. It was kind of sleepy in the morning, enshrouded in a lovely Pacific mist. And what a hippie town! At 9:00 in the morning the marijuana smoke was wafting from several storefronts. (Ok, it was closer to 10:00.) At one such establishment I purchased a handbag-of-sorts for Natalie’s upcoming birthday. It was constructed of a recycled seat belt and tire. It’s actually quite useful and she’ll love it. The town also had a fair number of useless souvenir and candy shops, and plenty of tourists to patronize them. The heart of this community though, resides in the venerable Victorian homes, not all of them bed-and-breakfasts either. I loved walking past and looking at the lovingly tended English gardens. The Mendocino motto should be: “Yes, we have time for all of this – and you don’t!” The post office was from another era too. I mailed postcards to Delia and Andrew. (Stay dressed, young man!) We breakfasted on wheatgrass smoothies and some kind of dense brown muffin of twigs and underbrush (!?), and were also able to find satisfying lattes before resuming our adventure.

The staggering beauty of the Pacific Coast Highway makes for the ideal road trip, and led to our discovery of Pacific Star Winery (www.pacificstarwinery.com) north of Ft. Bragg. We had never heard of it, but there wasn’t a lot else going on, aside from the fabulous scenery, and after all - finding wineries is why we are here. And what a pleasant find! An old stone and redwood barn welcomed us to the cellar/tasting room. Here, we felt we were in the middle of it all – and we were. One worker was labeling bottles as we tasted. We met winemaker Sally Ottoson, who is rightly proud of the wines she has created. Some are not typical of what we’ve found in Napa and Sonoma and it’s worth the trip just to try them. Carignane (I love saying that!) is a product of old vines and history, and one of their most coveted wines. The Charbono is a rare find, the grape was nearly extinct due to the difficulty in growing it, but its popularity is definitely on the rebound now. And for everyday drinking, try Dad’s Daily Red. (What a great name! And Sally’s dad is still kicking – and sipping - at age 84.) Michael loves the Coro, a “Mendocino mélange” of zinfandel and nine other varietals. Sally’s viognier is a new favorite of mine, and I enjoyed seeing the tasting room staff patiently explain its pronunciation to some visitors from Utah who had never been to a winery before. (!)

I was very impressed with Sally and the winery she had created. Her attention to quality and detail reminded me of me. Fabrics, button plackets and grapes have more in common than I thought, and meeting Sally reaffirmed that I am on the right track with Red House.

It was time to go, but a cat in residence there decided to be my friend and would not leave me alone - even after I left the tasting room to feed handfuls of clover to some grateful sheep. No pampered indoor kitty, this was a Winery Cat. I’ve seen a few of these in my touring. So as not to have to survive on wine from the pour bucket, they lie in wait for assorted vermin and the occasional dish of proffered kibble. They sometimes show the scars of fights with other cats (or perhaps rats bigger than themselves) to retain the title of Winery Cat. Now and then, everyone just gets along, as you see multiple cats lolling around the grounds and the tasting rooms. This one may have wanted a vacation as he attempted to get in our car. I escaped his claws, but think I might have left with a few of his fleas. Not only that, my hands were gummy with the saliva of overzealous, clover-starved sheep. Yuck. I needed a shower, but it's back on the road with the magnificent redwoods ahead!

Road Trip Day Two, Continued: Dancing Naked

Oh, after that last post I realize I may not have been clear: Andrew, and not the principal, was naked. Still, unbelievable! Turns out that Andrew found Circle Time boring and stripped down because his cousin Natalie had told him, “People should not wear clothing if they don’t want to.” The kids in the circle giggled. Andrew certainly did. Mrs. C did not. Perhaps his behavior was closer to the excesses of the ‘60’s than she’d like to recall. Not only did he strip down, he did a little dance and dashed away when Mrs. C and the assistant teacher attempted his apprehension. At various times this afternoon I talked with Andrew, the principal, my parents and Mrs. C. - and Kerin, who was feeling overwhelmed by the volume of orders coming in – all from the serene setting of our hotel deck. And I worked it all out, a flute of Roederer Brut Rosé in hand. Life is good – if complicated. I’m going to have a little talk with Natalie too, but that can wait…

I shouldn’t even talk about where I am! It’s such a little gem of a hotel, right on the Pacific coastline, but the secret is out, judging from the gushing praise in our room’s guestbook. But all right, I’ll tell you - Albion Inn. It’s in the tiny coastal town of Albion, just a few miles south of Mendocino. (Take a look at albionriverinn.com.) It’s a small and seriously romantic inn, and I was told that it’s usually foggy and cool. We lucked out, especially this time of year. I was entirely comfortable outdoors this afternoon, wrapped in my indispensable pashmina. (If you don’t have yours yet jot down RH-29.) From our deck in Room 19, we can see fishing boats, herons and the waves as they crash over the rocks. Wonderful! The gardens here are delightful, inspiring. The many shades of roses, dune grass, and the surprisingly blue sky could find their way into the color offerings of Red House. The inn’s small restaurant has the same incredible view that our room does, but framed by the gardens. And dinner tonight was truly romantic. If (when!) you come here, try to reserve the left corner table and eat early enough to watch the sunset. You will be enthralled. The inn does weddings, as you might guess, and we watched a sunset exchange of vows. Not that the truly inspired menu (especially the seafood) and extensive wine choices escaped our attention. This is not at all what you’d expect to find this far from SF. And what a coup for chef Stephen Smith to have escaped city life for a lovely setting like this one. I could spend weeks here! After that, I might find it a bit quiet and start to go insane. Napa offers more sun, a medium pace and of course, proximity to SF and the airport. But for a change (and we all need that) I will be back. (And returning guests get a 20% discount!)

Tomorrow – Mendocino and beyond!

Road Trip Day Two: Wild and Craggy Coast

It was another late start for Maddie and Michael. We opted for the Couples Massage after a big plate of waffles and I fell asleep! Must have been good, right? Oh yeah. You really have to put the Farmhouse Inn on your list of must-see Wine Country destinations. There are so many great places here that you can go just about anywhere and say, “This is it, I’ve found my ideal _______ .” (Choose: winery, inn, restaurant, or vantage point from which to savor a glass of wine.) You can find yourself thinking you are in Tuscany, Alsace or Provence. Really, with the variety of climates and soils, and appreciation for the good life, Wine Country could be the culmination of all those places. And this trip has reminded me how lucky I am to be able to run Red House from the heart of it all.

Today we set out to explore more of the North Coast appellations. The Anderson Valley is absolutely stunning and so uncrowded. Here’s why: it’s not exactly commuting distance to SF. I love the windy roads and the openness that changes into serious forest that hugs the coast of Mendocino County. It feels secluded. I heard that lots of marijuana is grown here, but that’s not why we came. (!!) The one winery we had to see was Roederer Estate, maker of - you guessed it – sparkling wine! (www.roedererestate.com) The parent company, Roederer Champagne, has a long history making the real thing. Here, they found the right parcel of land with optimal growing conditions for making exceptional California sparkling wines. They carefully control the process, using only their own lots and even devising their own trellising system. My pick: the 2000 L’Ermitage Cuvée, their Tête de Cuvée. This is France in a flute! Ok, I’m oversimplifying, but the cuvée is a considered balancing of reserves. The best grapes are combined with a dosage of the best years’ wines. The result is more layers and textures on the palate. And the bubbles are miniscule - a sure sign that Roederer knows what they’re doing. This wine has garnered plenty of attention – look for it and taste for yourself. The Brut Rosé was delightful too, with a pale salmon color that would look wonderful against a starched white linen tablecloth celebrating a harvest dinner. Not a bad color for a Red House polo either!

What an impressive place Roederer is. There is an authentic feel to the winery and the valley itself. Maybe it’s the quieter days of fall, but I expected the tasting room to be packed with people and the roads overrun with traffic. We stayed for a couple of hours, tasting everything - but I also had to take an unexpected phone call…

I learned that there are MANY wineries and tasting rooms to visit up here. We will save them for later – and not much later, I hope. I had planned to talk about the incredible place we are staying tonight. Alas, I will have to get to that later as I have to call Andrew’s principal now. The call I got earlier was from my mother saying he stripped naked during Circle Time today!

Road Trip or No Trip?

Mom and Dad just arrived in Napa! They want to experience every season here and we’ve just begun a new one. It’s also the nicest time of year to be in suburban New Jersey. Anyway, they are back at the elegantly appointed, faux-rustic Calistoga Ranch (calistogaranch.com) where they stayed when they came for Easter. Yes, I’m somewhat jealous of their outdoor living room, daily yoga and spa sessions, and of course the wine blending parties in the resort’s own cave. It’s a carefully cultivated sense of relaxation and it holds a lot of appeal for this business owner/mom.

I had a great idea. Why not leave Delia and Andrew with my parents to enjoy the lap of the Auberge Resort’s luxury - the pool, private lake, majestic hills and biking trails? Michael and I would hit the road in search of unexplored wineries, scenic coastline and rekindled romance, oh yeah…! But ---- No. That’s what the parents said at first. They sort of planned on the same sort of rekindling. I finally convinced them (using all of my best negotiating skills) that they could do THAT, with plenty of time for winery stops while the kids were in school. I asked for a week and got five days - deal!

Red House is doing great – double the business that we had a year ago! Several orders will come in next week, though. Kerin, for the first time, will be doing the initial quality control inspection. I’ve told her what to look for in my exacting detail. She also may have client contact beyond taking messages. This is also new for her, and I can only hope nothing major comes up that requires a quick decision. Good luck, Kerin!

But no guilt here. We need this little getaway and will return rested and ready for anything. We are quickly throwing some things in the car - not our best packing effort, but we want to GO!! It’s going to be a late start but we’re almost on our way west!