News Trend Last Day In Danang|Actual

It was our last evening in Vietnam, so my second-born and I decided to celebrate the sunset with one last motorbike adventure around Danang.

We headed up the beach road toward Son Tra, then turned right across the tiny peninsula of land at the north end of the city.  Then it was up and over the biggest of Danang's four bridges, where we crossed the Han River. Midway, we opted to pull over for a view of Danang Bay, where the South China Sea lies strangely to the west.

Our timing was perfect.

^ There on the sidewalk of the busy bridge, we watched as the sun slowly dropped behind the Asian continent. Awestruck by the moment, we silently marveled over how we came to be standing in this spot, so far from home, and drinking in this glory.

^ Later that night, we wrapped up our final outing with one last trip across the illustrious Dragon Bridge, which is festive in its own right.

^ But nothing can compare to the sunset we saw on our last day in Danang.

News Trend El Jardin Me Hace Sonrier|Actual

During our days in sunny Cabo, the pool and the beach areas are popping.

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People come and go throughout the day, taking meals, whooshing off to other activities, returning later for a much needed cooling off in the water.

Others, like my daughters and me, stake out our chairs early and stay all day, sunning ourselves amidst happy piles of novels, cameras, cover-ups, buckets of ice water, and the ubiquitous bottle of sunscreen.

Waiters balance heavy trays as they navigate the traffic, cruising round the pool, down the stairs, and across the hot sand to make sure that every guest is properly refreshed.

Even the lizards crawl out from their hidey holes and bask in the middle of the hot walkways.

But as the late afternoon sun slowly sinks behind the west wing of the hotel, the buzz slowly fades. Imperceptibly at first, then in waves and swells, we all call our kids in from the water, pack up our belongings, and head back to our rooms for showers, actual clothes, and an adventure out for dinner.

At this lovely time of day, my daughters and I have fallen into a happy tradition. Once we are feeling fresh and clean, we slip out to a secret garden in the golden light of evening.

I suppose it's not actually a secret garden. There are no walls or hidden doorways. Certainly the staff is spending plenty of time keeping it up. But the other guests do not seem to know this precious place exists, so we always have it all to ourselves.

So step with me out from the cool of the covered walkway along the back of the building, look across the open space, and be prepared for what is about to burst into view.

^ Bougainvillea. Big, bodacious, bougainvillea in hot pink. Look how the blossoms glow with the low rays of the sun. This giant planting of the tropical classic is the star of the secret garden; see how it stretches along the full length of the wide, white wall to the north. In some places, the tendrils stretch up beyond the structure to wave in the blue sky above. See the pink translucent petals against the sunlight sky? Amazing.

^ Now look close. Zero in on an individual blossom, undulating waves of pink petals complete with a white wide-eyed center. Decide for yourself which sight you prefer: the masses of vines billowing across the white wall and stretching out into the deep blue sky, or the brilliant pink waves of each perfect flower.

I can never choose.

Now, turn your back to the bougainvillea, if you dare, and look south along the back of the building. Tucked into corners and niches all along the exterior walkways, planted in immaculate beds of carefully raked sand, see the gardens full of cacti and succulents.

^ Blue agave, majestic and serene.

^ Barrel cactus, geometric and covered with not-so-sharp spines. Dare you to touch them.

^ Isn't it amazing how the simple and serene pink blossoms of the desert rose hold their own against the riotous bougainvillea? They're both pink flowers, it's true, but there's a place in my heart for each one.

^ While each plant is gorgeous in its own right, it's the vignettes of plant, stone, and that crazy raked sand that sweep me off my feet.

^ This is not a caterpillar. Just a very weird cacti sort of something that looks rad against the radiating leaves of the spiky plant beyond.

^ Is this particular blue agave more or less perfect that the other half dozen we've seen? I can't tell; can you? Let's just take a million pics of each one and figure it out later.

^ Uhh what. Is this from an episode of Stranger Things? It frightens me so hurry, let's move on.

^ And here, at the end of cacti plantings, we come to the last delight of the secret garden. A euphorbia milii, also know as crown of thorns, which I fell in love with at first sight in my adventures around Malaysia. The soft and rounded petals, the subtly shaded coral pink, the generous green leaves - everything about this lovely makes me smile.

And that, I think, is the perfect purpose of our secret garden. In the soft sunlight of the ending day, this beautiful place makes me smile.

* * * * *

Read all about my latest trip to Mexico

Vamos A Mexico!

Me Gusta Nadar

Bonita En Rosa

El Jardin Me Hace Sonrier

La Comida A Flora Farms

La Mejor Parte

News Trend Me Gusta Nadar|Actual

I love to swim.

Let's be honest. I spend most of my time in Mexico in the pool.

I love swimming in the ocean, too. Probably even more so. But that is more of an event.

Swimming in the pool is an all-day way of life for me.

Well.

Swimming.

Floating.

Standing under the waterfall.

Half-walking, half-hanging onto a floatie shared with a daughter.

Kicking around while holding the ledge of the pool and talking to daughters who are out of the pool.

Sitting in the water.

Sitting on the steps into the water.

And on and on it goes.

^ Much of my day is spent looking up at the undersides of the umbrellas, the wings of mother birds who want to protect me from the sun. But they don't do me much good in the pool, and despite my best intentions and 70 SPF, I am usually sunburned by the end of the day.

^ I'm obsessed with floaties and always looking out for the next best thing. These alligators are designed to hover above the water and looked super cute floating around the pool on their own, or caught up in prolonged wrestling matches with their eight-ish and ten-ish-year-old owners.

^ It takes a lot to get me out of the water and back into the fierce Mexican sun. And by a lot, I mean a plate of fish tacos and an icy drink. Cabo is the birthplace of the fish taco and I am religiously devoted to them. My second-born and I each devoured a plateful every day by noon, and on our fourth day, our delightful, efficient, and oftentimes hilarious pool water named Luis observed, "You sure like to eat fish tacos."

Yes. Yes, I do, Luis. I love to eat your freaking delicious fish tacos.

Almost as much as I like to swim.

* * * * *

Read all about my latest trip to Mexico

Vamos A Mexico!

Me Gusta Nadar

Bonita En Rosa

El Jardin Me Hace Sonrier

La Comida A Flora Farms

La Mejor Parte

News Trend Bonita En Rosa|Actual

I have a well-documented obsession with pink buildings:

the Pink Hotel in my Michigan hometown

the Stylenanda Pink Hotel in Seoul,

not to mention the Glossier mostly-pink pop-up stores in Chicago and Seattle.

But this pretty-in-pink princess may just take the cake.

^ Officially known as the Pueblo Bonito Rose, she is the sister resort and next-door neighbor to our all-white lodgings, known as the Blanco. We could visit the sparkling turquoise pool here, or take our meals in the pink-shaded courtyards, but honestly, we have never really gotten around to that.

^ The main reason we walk over here to the Rose is to use the ATM. What a delicious mash-up of practicality and utter romance.

^ And the best time to do that is in late afternoon, when the western sun sets these pink walls to glowing, and each facet of the cleverly deigned building is cast in rose-colored relief to the others.

6 She becomes a study in lines, angles, planes, and shapes, all radiating subtle variations of rosy light, complemented by lush tropical greenery, curving and arcing in its own elegant geometry.

^ I do get quite caught up in her elegant appearance. Funny though, I don't want to stay here. The thought rarely even crosses my mind.

^ It's enough to walk by her every other day or so, to drink in her exotic beauty, and to admire her pink charm.

^ My daughters admire her too. I can't imagine how anyone could resist her sweet charms.

^ And when we return to the Blanco, our pristinely white home-away-from-home, we stop by the flamingo pool to admire our own smaller version of pretty in pink.

* * * * *

Read all about my latest trip to Mexico

Vamos A Mexico!

Me Gusta Nadar

Bonita En Rosa

El Jardin Me Hace Sonrier

La Comida A Flora Farms

La Mejor Parte

News Trend Lucky 13|Actual

"I will be a birthday angel and wait patiently for my treat!!"

Last summer, shortly after Ranger turned twelve, his health began to rapidly fail.

Tumors erupted on his rear end.

His appetite fell off but his thirst was insatiable; he dropped a lot of weight.

Wilting in the (not that hot) summer heat, he dragged through his summer walks.

I saw the writing on the wall and suspected that he would be gone by Christmas.

"That smells delicious!"

Around November, my boy's appetite had bounced back but his biggest tumor was growing unchecked. His vet sadly turned him down as a surgical candidate; big tumors are too risky to open up and he would likely not survive the procedure.

"Take him home and give him a good life," Dr. Bennett consoled me.

I measured Ranger's future in weeks.

"Lamb chops? YUM! Let me take that off your hands."

Then, on February 20, my boy was attacked by another dog who bit his tumor and broke it open. Losing blood rapidly, he barely made it to the emergency vet. She got the bleeding stopped but told us that Ranger's wounds never heal and advised us to euthanize him on the spot.

"No," I said, faster than my husband could blink. "We will give him a chance to recover."

We faced a long road in nursing Ranger back to health. I prayed he would make it to Easter.

"Mmmmm! What a tasty morsel. I'm in birthday heaven."

And now, here we are in July.

My boy has made it to another birthday, and I must say, he's cruising along pretty well:

His appetite and attitude are both on point; he's worked his way back up to his full 45-minute walks.

His wounds are all healed, his tumors look as healthy as evil lumps can look.

And every day, my dog surprises me with his good spirits and scary-clever persoalan solving skills.

Surely, at the impressive age of ninety-one, Ranger is in his twilight years. But I've given up guessing how long he will survive.

Video of lamb-chop eating dog available here

All I want to do today is celebrate another year of fine living with my good boy, Ranger, and pinch myself to believe that he actually made it to Lucky 13.

News Trend Out In Left Field|Actual

Here's a weird thing about my family. Whenever we take in a day at our hometown Mariners' ballpark, we invariably root for the other team.

It's not that we're anti-Mariners. We harbor no ill will to our local Seattle team.

The truth is just that most of us have developed a love connection to another MLB franchise. My husband still wears his heart on his sleeve for his childhood hometown heroes, the Cleveland Indians.

My first- and fourth-borns, huge baseball fans each, carry a torch for the Boston Red Sox and Texas Rangers, respectively. The story goes that each of them watched their future favorites in multiple World Series performances and fell in love.

As for me, Chicago Cubs all the way. Back in my Windy City days, I spent many a pleasant afternoon in the friendly confines of Wrigley's left field bleachers and my loyalties since then are unquestioned.

So last weekend, when the aforementioned Rangers were in town for a series against the Seattle Mariners, we enjoyed a few games from my favorite section in the whole ballpark.

^ Looking up in left field.

^ A clean view of the left-field turf... And my scorecard. Love to capture the game data. Plus it keeps me paying attention to the action on the field instead of wondering what to eat next.

^ Friday night was Fireworks Night. As the players trotted off the field at the end of the game,

we left-fielders were hurried out of our seats as well, since the pyrotechnics were about to explode right over our heads.

* * * * *

Sure, we Streichers get a few weird looks from the hardcore hometown fans as we stroll in to the stadium with our mismatched team gear and clap for the away guys' runs. But, devoted as we are to our various teams, we don't mind being a bit different.

You might even say we're comfortable being out in left field.

News Trend What Stays The Same|Actual

Happy Independence Day!

Today, I celebrated in what felt like Groundhog Day fashion with the same old tried-and-true Fourth of July traditions that have been played out year after year in my family.

^ Always I'm compelled to create backyard banners in red, white and blue

^ Classic summer barbecue dinner always spring forth from the grill.

^ And an evening spent at a nearby park, always the same location for watching our small-town fireworks display. Just like always, we spread out our blankets and snacked hardcore while waiting for the sun to go down and the fireworks to start.

Always, always, our celebrations are exactly the same.

But as I sat in the gathering twilight, scrolling on my phone as my Oreo-eating daughters scrolled on theirs, I came across a photo that set me back on my heels.

^ This photo of family friends, whose four kids are almost exactly the same age as mine, knocked me right out of my rut. Looking at their adorable baby faces, I could more clearly measure the passing of the years - decades - and I was reminded of something important.

Life never stands still.

No matter how much my holiday traditions may seem the same to me, I was forgetting some fairly major memories.

Like the year when my two-year-old had just decided to start potty-pembinaan that very day, and I was on pins and needles all during the fireworks, wondering what the heck I was going to do if she needed to go while we were out. (She held it the whole time. Crisis miraculously averted.)

And the times I front-packed my infants throughout the big evening, cuddled my frightened toddlers who were overwhelmed by the noise, and let my older girls run wild on the grassy lawn before the show began. And let's not overlook the early teen years when I broke up a few bickerfests and sent people on various missions to keep the pre-fireworks energy flowing smoothly.

When the girls got older, we branched out and tried some new venues. Twice, I think, we braved the major crowds at Gasworks Park, the biggest show in Seattle, just to see how the city folks spent the Fourth.

And then there was the year we trekked down to watch the show from my husband's advantageously located office in Fremont, bringing a big picnic dinner and several high school boyfriends in tow. I prayed that the hormones would not explode before the show began.

Life never stands still, and despite what my oversimplifying brain may tell me, my Independence Day celebrations have not gone stale either.

The only thing that has truly stayed the same through all these years is the people with whom I celebrate.

Oh, and the fireworks. They're just as beautiful as I always remember.