Newcott Blog

Big Sur is a funny name for a place.  It is the English word Big and the Spanish word South.  I might have picked Big South — even though South is also a weird descriptor for this place of splendour.  Or possibly Grande Sur.  But I wouldn’t have expected the Spanglish combo name Big Sur.  Then again, it was probably named by the crazy explorers who came out here and killed most of the natives with their diseases and greed, so logic need not apply.  Bronwen and I just got back from an excellent trip up the California coast, along the state park Big Sur.  We camped the first night in Malibu.  Then we spent a couple of nights in a yurt resort, called Treebones, in the cliffs along Big Sur (thanks for the recommendation Mari and Terry!).  And we finished it off with a B&B, called Secret Garden, in Santa Barbra.  Silas stayed at home with my parents, his Iah and Papa, and he did quite well without us. 

Canada is awesome, and so are Canadians.  I had the privilege of being in Calgary and Banff National Park last week for work.  Everyone I met, sales reps and customers, were friendly and genuine.  I learned that Canadians like to understate their environment.  We did some skiing on two “ski hills”.  I can’t believe they call these huge mountains ski hills.  It’s a major understatement.  Make no mistake, these are jagged alpine peaks.  The ski resorts are expansive and put most Colorado resorts to shame.  Look at the trail maps and you’ll see nothing but double-black-diamonds.  And when a Canadian says it will be “a little cold,” get out your thickest jackets because he means it will be VERY cold.  Like minus 15 degrees.  And one of the best topics for dinnertime conversation with a Canadian is politics — a no-no in The States, especially with new acquaintences.  In Canada, politics is fair-game and is usually grounds for lively, entertaining conversation.  Other nationalities need to be like Canadians and have a general love for life and be able to laugh at the rediculousness of the world.  That’s why I heart Canada.

It feels like Summer is here again.  Daylight savings came three weeks early this year in an effort to save energy.  I’ve heard it probably won’t save on total energy consumption.  Either way, I love having the extra hour of daylight.  I went surfing yesterday and it was really bright at 5:00 pm.  Plus, it was 85 in the sun and dry from the Santa Anas.

I’m really into California this week.  The climate.  The people.  The lifestyle.  I’m looking to buy an old Vespa to cruise on down to the beach with my surfboard.  I couldn’t say that if I lived in DC or Boston or Atlanta or most other places I’ve considered living in.

I’m sore from playing three games of softball on Sunday.  Three games sounds like a lot, but consider this — I played catcher.  So my exercise was severely limited to running from home plate to behind the backstop.  I am so sore it hurts to walk up stairs and pick up Silas.  Just two years ago, when I was in business school, I was playing intramurals in football, basketball, softball, and working out at least twice per week.  Hard to believe I graduated from business school two years ago already.  But what is happening to my body?  I want cyborg joints and muscles.  Silas, your dad is lame.  He’s lame because he is sore after playing SOFTBALL.  Sorry your dad is a wuss, Silas, but that’s what happens when you get close to 30.

A couple of weeks ago, Bronwen gave Silas his first haircut.  The little man handled it like a champ.  To keep him still, Bronwen let him chew on an Excedrin bottle.  Nice. 

Here are a couple more recent pictures.  Silas and I like to hang out on the grass.  Bronwen threw a couples baby shower for our church friends, the Broggers.  And here I am playing a little game called Silas Sandwich — I sandwich Silas between two pillows and shake him back and forth.  He loves it.