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So, I ran across the oddest of signs today. I was in the Federal building in Los Angeles today, and a sign enticing passers-by to visit the “welfare and immigration gift shop”. The featured item on the sign was a Department of Homeland Security ceramic mug.

Hint hint hint.

By the way, this does not top the funniest sign I saw in the same building a couple of years ago. It was an ad for the building’s in-house barber shop. The tag line? “If you’re bored at work, why not drop by for a haircut.” Classic.

Back in October, I proudly announced San Francisco’s #1 ranking among Conde Nast Traveler readers. At the same time, I pondered what San Jose advocates would say in a readers survey. Well, never let it be said that I’m not obsessive–I have the answer.

On my flight to San Diego this week, I read a 15-20 page paid advertisement for the City of San Jose in the United Hemisphere magazine. Here are the subjects of the photos and headlines in this paid advertisement–my assumption being that if you want to entice readers to travel to your city, then you draw them in with the San Jose equivalent of the Golden Gate Bridge! Well, you decide:

– Santana Row (an upscale, outdoor shopping mall)
– a farmers market
– the San Jose Sharks (the local NHL hockey team)
– pictures of the restored downtown shopping district
– the San Jose Symphony
– golf
– scientists using beakers
– the Technology Museum
– people drinking wine
– a plaza with playful fountains that spray you when you walk by
– an remodeled airport minutes from silicon valley companies
– home to Apple, Google, eBay, Cisco, and Adobe
– the headline: “50 miles south of san Francisco”
– a convention center
– the San Jose Grand Prix (1.6mi circuit through downtown)
– Children’s Discovery Museum
– Winchester Mystery House
– brown grassy hills for mountain biking
– many hotels
– san Jose university

Uh, huh. Hmmmm. “Well, honey. I’ve got the brochures. Instead of going to San Francisco this year, I booked us a room at the San Jose Hilton. Did you know they are only 50 minutes south of San Francisco? AND they have scientists!”

Please.

I DID learn two cool facts from this advertising section:

1. 58 companies with market capitalizations over $1 billion are headquartered within 12 minutes of the San Jose airport.
2. 34% of the nation’s venture capital is invested in the region!!

So, in response, I dug up one of the pictures we took while driving visitors around the city. This is the famous view of downtown with the Painted Ladies in the foreground. I think that makes a much more compelling tourist photo than the Google World Headquarters!

What better way to spend a cold, wet December day than making cookies with friends. Today, it was downright cold here in SF…and by cold, we mean 45-55. (Yes, I know its freezing in the east, but hey, I saw my breath tonight!)

Fortunately, my friend Pamela, from my photography class, invited us to join in one of her favorite holiday traditions–a big table, crowded with friends, who are all decorating fresh sugar cookies. Oh, and I tried an Old Fashioned for the first time, made “the right way” by Pamela’s husband.

Between us, Jeff and I made a couple dozen cookies. And we had a warm indoor-afternoon with friends old and new.

The rest of the day was fairly typical. We woke up a bit later than normal, because we had been out late at my firm’s local holiday party–at the top the St. Francis peering down on Union Square. Breakfast, haircut, and a bit of shopping at the Warming Hut, right at the Golden Gate Bridge. Out at the bridge, we regretted not having our camera, because the white caps were quite dramatic, and the waves were splashing up onto the roadway.

Tonight, the wind and rain are quite heavy, so we’re huddled in the living room by the fire, watching The Sound of Music…and eating cookies of course.

Louise Etter Clifford. My brother and I always called my mother’s mother ‘Ginger Gramma’–after her bounding Chesapeake Bay Retriever named Ginger. My grandmother’s home in St. Michaels, Maryland was a cozy one-bedroom cabin–a summer cabin turned all weather home–built by my grandmother and grandfather and family. The property became fondly known as Whiskey Hill (we simply called it “the cabin”) and was situated right on the wide, salty waters of Edge Creek (a fantastic tributary of the Chesapeake Bay).

My brother and I felt at home in St. Michaels. We spent winter holidays in front of gramma’s fireplace playing cards, and long summer vacations crabbing and swimming in the creek.

My grandmother was a generous woman–at least from the perspective of a well coddled, oldest grandchild 🙂 Gramma infused me with a love of reading, a love of cooking (and a well equipped kitchen), and a love of the Orioles. She also fed my early interests in computers, by giving me my first computer: a Sinclair ZX81 with a whopping 1K of memory and a tape drive. That computer taught me more than any Windows box I’ve owned since.

Christmas was one of my grandmother’s favorite event holidays. She prided herself at having just the right gifts on hand, hand-picked for the individual. Nothing elaborate: Cheez-Its for my dad, cocktail hotdogs for my brother, a bird ornament for my mother, an Orioles trinket for me. She would collect odds and ends throughout the year to put in Christmas stockings. She loved to hear the stories of how each and every gift was used. She loved a good story, and would tell everybody she saw.

I could go on and on and on. I’ve got a gazillion stories.

In August, we held a memorial service and family day. The memorial service was at the Quaker Meeting House in nearby Easton. Afterwards, the family gathered at the cabin–we’re talking 50 people–all talking, eating crabs, and laughing. It was the best party at the cabin in years, and my grandmother is busy telling EVERYBODY about it in heaven.

The pictures below, start with three showing the catching, steaming, and eating of the crabs. Then there is shot of one of the multi-generational tables. Finally, there is a post-party shot of the calm at the cabin.

Sallie Coe Smith. My Aunt Sallie was my father’s father’s sister. Ever since I can remember, she lived in a beautiful, turn-of-the-century home in Edinburg, Virginia, which is a lovely town nestled in the Shenandoah Valley. On hot summer days, my grandmother would walk my brother and me to Aunt Sallie’s to swim in Stoney Creek, which was a stone’s throw from her front steps. Stoney Creek was one of those small, cold mountain creeks with smooth round rocks under your feet. Just enough current to let us drift a bit.

I remember that Aunt Sallie was an active leader in the community–the Methodist church where my grandfather ministered and the Edinburg community library are two in particular. I remember that the grape vine behind her house was always full. I remember that Aunt Sallie loved cats. I remember she loved history, and that her walls were covered with mementos from the White House, where her husband worked.

When Aunt Sallie died this year, the family held a memorial service at the family church. This is a small, local parish, and every pew was filled. Afterwards, there was a light luncheon in the church hall, with food made by church members.

The family held a small ceremony at the cemetery, where Aunt Sallie was buried next to her husband, and next to my grandmother and grandfather. Then we gathered at Aunt Sallies home for family memories, walks down to Stoney Creek, and many laughs. The highlight for me was teaching my nephew Wade (4 years old) to take pictures with my digital camera–you should have seen the smiles he captured.

Two photos below. One is a photo of a photo of my Aunt Sallie. The second is a photo of the old railroad bridge across Stoney Creek–growing up, my brother and cousins and I were captivated by this bridge and would walk up to it every time we visited Aunt Sallie…although I don’t think we ever crossed it.