We LOVE Dessert

It’s safe to say that in our house, we love dessert - the good kind. Though there is nothing wrong with brownies out of a box (thank you to Costco for still selling the six pack of Ghirardelli brownie mixes), we tend to gravitate to the more elaborate, harder to make, harder to find, but still just as yummy kind.

There are 2 places in SoCal that have stayed on our top ten list these past 2 years. So, we thought we would share them here.

The first is Rosa’s Cantina in Old Town Temecula. While there are dozens of amazing places to get great Mexican food, we come here for the deep-fried ice cream. Though I am sure this could be made at home, is not going to happen at my house. Just disposing of the oil alone is enough to put this on the – go out to eat as a treat list.

This delicious combination of fried tortilla, honey, cinnamon, vanilla ice cream, etc. is so good! I do confess that we order an extra tortilla on the side so that the race to the tortilla isn’t quite so competitive. The dessert is about $5.00 and is easily shared with 2 adults or 3 kiddo’s.   

Details: 28636 Old Town Front St #109, Temecula, CA 92590 (Closes at 8pm during the week, 9pm Fri-Sat)

Note there are 2 Rosa’s in old town area… both on the same front street. Make sure you’re at the one in the middle of old town, and not at Rosa’s Café & Tortilla Factory. 

Second Good Eats:

The Fresh Shave in Long Beach is worth a side trip. The other location option is Kauai, but that’s a bit of a long haul for shave ice. To begin if you are thinking shave ice in general for adults is gross, I concur. This isn’t like the chunky ice, covered in corn syrup, that you get at the school fair. You know the kind the kids line up for miles for, but the parents are wondering why they have to pay 5 bucks for sugar water. This is nothing like that. The ice just melts in your mouth like powdered snow.

The flavors have nothing to do with corn syrup.  Since I am not a food writer… here is a blip from their website: “Our shave ice syrups are handcrafted using fresh, local and organic ingredients.” Basically, we can save the planet while eating dessert as long as we drive up there in an electric car! Everyone wins. One of my favorite flavors is Coconut + Lime topped with Coconut Chia Seed Cream, (with extra cream). My second favorite is Berries + Acai topped with honey, bananas and shredded coconut. I promise they taste like dessert and not like we are trying to save the planet with dirt and plants. It’s really good.

All the flavors have a mustache name and the straws come with mustache stickers for kicks. The coco lime is called The Chevron, the berries acai is called The Professor.

The other great thing about this location is there are about 5 container restaurants all in the same location. Meaning all of the food places are made out of storage containers. The container part is kind of fun and trendy, but really there is a bunch of good food. Anything from a noodle place, a waffle place, and a hamburger place that is full of really good flavors you wouldn’t make at home. (There is a theme here, I tend to like food I can’t make at home.) The hamburgers come with the option to have fried mac and cheese as a bun. I’ve gotten that before and it is so good. But after having 2 shave ice’s it’s really hard to eat a 2000 calorie hamburger. But the flavors are good. Maybe share with someone, or not. The seating is all outdoors, with all seating for all the restaurants in one area. (Think food court at a mall, but with good smells.) The restaurants are not cheap happy meal type places. Hamburgers are about $10.00-15.00. Probably due to the fact that they have to find people willing to work in a metal container in California. I digress.  It’s good food, good desserts. Worth the side trip. Not open on Monday’s and Tuesday’s.

Details:

https://www.thefreshshave.com

3768 Long Beach Blvd Long Beach, CA 90807

(15 minutes from the Queen Mary on freeways.)

12-8pm Wed-Sunday

This Post was Written and Posted by:

Devin Clark

Heliophilia... is that really a thing?

OK … confession… I think I have Heliophilia. Now you may not find that in the Webster’s dictionary, but it is alive and well in the Urban Dictionary. So no, it is not found in the psychology and science books of yesteryear, but it is just the beginning of making it’s mark, if not any where else, but right here. I guess you could say I suffer from heliophilitis (?)

Heliophilia: (N.) An addiction to the sun. Always needing it's rays to survive life. Needing summer all year round.

"Sammi has heliophilia;therefore, she lives at the beach,and is outside everyday"

"The sunflower needs the sun to survive as so does a person with heliophilia"

#addiction#wanting#needing#craving#desire

-Urban Dictionary

Growing up in the South I remember sitting in my car, whose heater had just barely started really warming up by the time I got to school before looking at the overcast skies, rubbing my hands together as I would give myself a Grade A (professional, motivational speaker quality) pep talk to get out of the car and walk/run my freezing tail across the 100 yards it would take me to get from my car to the school. When we left California every summer.. tears.. actual embarrassing crocodile size baby tantrum tears rolled down my cheeks that I had to leave the land where the sun shown year round and the salty beach air was a daily option.

When I was 14 years old my sweet Great Grandma White passed away and my mom could take only one of us 8 kids across the country to the funeral, and I was the lucky one. It was January and this would be my first time going to California in the middle of winter. I knew it would not be anything close to the icy humid cold winters I was used to, so I didn’t even bother to bring a jacket, but I knew it was still winter and I was not going to be cold. So, Instead I prepared by bringing thick ribbed sweater tights, a wool plaid skirt, and a turtle neck (it was the nineties). I was a wreck, I sweat the entire time. Nighttime there was a reprove with the cool ocean air, but that sun beat down and I knew through the b.o. and self inflicted heat flashes, there was no where else I wanted to live. I committed again to find a way to settle down in Southern California.

Fast forward several years and all those hopes, dreams, wishes, and prayers came true as my husband, 9 month old daughter and I packed up into the car and U-haul and made our drive from Utah to California, a couple years later we were in our home and was not long before I couldn’t help but notice year round the bikers, runner, and every other form of fitness gurus flocking the streets and boardwalks, not just through the summer or beautiful springs and falls (if you can even call it fall), but YEAR ROUND! If I could be outside in the sun all day, I think I would be. I would join in and often find what I liked to do most for exercise was anything outside… which usually meant yoga in my yard or at the beach, or running outside, or hiking with my family. Then it happened.

It was the very beginning of May and I was at a local community pool helping my kids train for the Junior Lifeguard test. As I sat in a chair, barking orders to swim faster as I was eating gold fish and timing their swims, I noticed dozens of women coming and going from that same lap pool, happy, content with their workout. (Queue the entrance of my inner dialogue:)

“I want to do that…What? Swim? I don’t know how to swim. Remember how your husband always teases you how you look close to drowning when trying to swim fast? Yeah, that’s true, but they look so happy, so fit, and they had a workout out side in the… SUN. But you’ve tried swimming before, remember when you were injured? and you’ve never thought it did anything for you… that is true.. ok what what can I do that incorporates swimming… outside… for fitness……I know…..A TRIATHLON! I am going to do a triathlon.

Now it’s an important note here that: I am definitely NOT a biker, NOT a swimmer, and NOT a runner (well…at least never EVER anything above 3 miles.. and even then my pace was… slow… like you could walk as fast as I run slow). That’s not to say I don’t consider myself an athlete. I grew up playing competitive basketball and am currently a yoga instructor. If I had a day to myself I would love to spend a good portion of it working out… and eating brownies of course.. because who doesn’t love a good chocolate ghiradelli brownie? Great, now I am hungry.. but I digress… Any way- sure, I had been to a couple spin classes in my day, but I hadn’t rode an actual bike for exercise in my entire life. And for that matter, ride ON the road? That is just CRAZY! How many times have I looked over and thought those people were completely crazy to ride on the side of the road. They will get hit! They will die for sure!

Obviously there was only one thing to do… GO ALL IN. This was not possibly going to happen unless I fully and completely committed. So the investigation began, I had to find a bike, and a triathlon to be in, and clip in shoes, and a helmet, and running shoes, and padded shorts (padded shorts? It’s more like spandex with an adult diaper sown in), a swimsuit, goggles, swim cap, a training program that I could understand, multiple friends to teach me how to do normal things, dozens… no countless youtube tutorials on everything from how to ride a bike, to fix a tire, to put a chain on, to switch gears, to swim, to run with good form. I mean this became my free time obsession. Any spare moment I was reading, researching, purchasing. Like any new hobby I know nothing about, I have no idea how expensive everything ends up being until I’m neck deep already and there’s no turning back. So there I was, geared up, pumped up, and somewhat informed (so I thought).

The journey began. The running came, slowly but surely, through tears and agony, and even some knee pain, but it came. I was so excited. Nearly every day, all summer, I was outside training with my best friend, the sun.

I didn’t dare try my new to me, but used bike I had bought off craigslist outside for the first couple weeks. I was terrified. I had tried to use it in my drive way multiple times. Clipping in and clipping out with my new clip-in shoes. I had enough scratches, bruises, cuts on my body and scuffs on my shoes that you would think I had gotten in a street fight with a pack of coyotes before I had even seen a foot of actual road pavement beneath me. I finally worked up my courage and picked the least dangerous path to take around a small community with limited traffic and wide streets. Every biking day was riddled with falls, chains coming lose, flat tires, and completely not understanding how I was supposed to change gears. In fact for the first month I put it in the hardest gear going up the hardest hills and vice-versa for the down hills. It made no sense but I had nothing to compare it to. I was lost.

I continued watching youtube tutorials and visiting the bike store, where they began to know me very well. Actually, 2 different times I sat on the side of the road with blood on my legs, and chain grease on my hands watching tutorials on the proper way to shift gears. The problem was I did not understand their terminology. I didn’t know which way was a higher gear and a lower gear, little chain, big chain and when to go to which. thereby getting my chains crossed, the chain coming off the spokes, followed by me not being able to clip out correctly and fall like a wall right over to my side, and what the heck was a ‘cassette’. I had no business being on that bike and much more being on the road at all. It was worthy of any comedic reality series. I was a mess. It really should not have been so complicated and in hind sight I see it’s really not, but it was like a foreign language to me. I was determined though. A triathlon was in my future and I would do anything to get there. So every time, every wound, every fall was followed by me back on that bike with tiny thin tires trudging up and down the hills.

The hills… the hills were the worst. Every new hill was followed by me not being able to go all the way up in one shot. I had to stop, breath (more like I’m dying kind of breathing), and get water, and try again… which, for the record, is really hard to do. What do I mean? Clipping back into biking pedals on a uphill slope was my nemesis. To this day, it is still not my forte. I also have accidentally stopped in the middle of intersections and had to hurry and run my bike (with my tail between my padded diaper legs) out of the way before the light turned green to crossing traffic. My kids would wait for me to get home every time to hear the stories of the adventures of mom looking like a fool. It was really fun. I actually mean that. It was so hard, and so challenging, and so so fun. I did eventually get out on much more open roads, bigger hills, and longer rides. My family and my desire kept me going, the goal kept me pushing, and the sun kept me smiling.

I had a friend watch me swim and give me pointers until I actually discovered they offer local adult swim classes, it’s true, they do. All over San Diego county they have something called Masters classes. I mean I did not look like a master at all, it was more like training a 2 year old to pat her head and rub her belly. The techniques to where the arms should enter the water to prevent shoulder pain, body position, hip rotation, reaching, breathing, kicking, alignment, etc, etc. If my body positioning was right I forgot to breath and if I was breathing my body positioning was all off. It took me weeks just look like a belonged in the lap pool at all. Then the ocean, the ocean, with it’s unidentified creatures, and unpredictable currents, and cold temperatures. I didn’t own a wetsuit or know the first thing about ocean swimming, which is much different then pool swimming. The first big ocean swim I did was with the Optimist Race off of San Diego’s Coronado Island in late July. There were three buoys to swim around then back to the shore. It was a 1 mile swim. I had gotten to the point where I could swim 1 mile in the pool and borrowed a wetsuit from a friend. I was nervous but ready. I ran in as fast as I can and the water began seeping in to my wetsuit every bit of shocking cold taking my already short breath away. By the time I go to the first buoy I was in a full blown anxiety attack. How do you take deep breaths when swimming in ocean water. I was losing control of my mind and thoughts. I rolled on to my back with tears in my eyes and just tried to float and take deep deep breaths even as the salt water splashed onto my face and up my nose. I eventually used some combination of doggy paddle and breast stroke to the second buoy and as I turned the corner was the first time, after everything I had been through, the money invested and the 3 months of training 6 days a week, I told myself… “I can’t do this, this was a mistake, I will never make it… it’s over… and what if I do survive the swim I would then have to bike 25 miles and run 6.2 miles… It’s over… do I wave for a lifeguard now and call it quits?” I felt tears burning in my eyes. I went to my back one more time took a couple deep breaths and thought “just finish this swim”. By the time I got to the 3rd buoy I was back and I was all in. I found my stroke, I found my groove, the water felt fresh and I was determined to not let the last 4 people behind me pass me. I finished the 1 mile swim and felt amazing, honestly, surprisingly amazing. I just did one of the hardest physically athletic challenges I had ever tried. Truth: about 100 people raced that morning and I finished about 95th, but I did get an awesome participation medal and my hope was restored. I was back on track and ready to keep trying for the triathlon.

Now to end the suspense… I did it. I completed the Nautica Malibu Olympic triathlon on September 10, 2018. The sun, my sun, was shining from the early hours of morning. The waves were bigger and the current stronger than the event coordinator had ever seen in the last 32 years. So much so, they cancelled the last 2 legs of swimmers to enter the water. The bike was beautiful, truly stunning up and down the Malibu coastline. The run was long, long and hot and hard, but I finished and I felt great! I felt amazing, I every leg faster than I had done before in conditioning. I wanted to do it again right away. I was hooked. Every day I am now outside training as winter approaches and the sun is shining I think how there’s no where else I would want to live than where the sun shines year long, feeding my very scientifically self-diagnosed Heliophilia. I love San Diego, I love Southern California, I love that we get to help others find homes in the place I love so much and now get to call home for the last 12 years.

This post was created and written by: Allie Chapman

Is NOW a good time to buy in San Diego?

“Is now a good time to buy a home in San Diego or should we wait until the market drops?”

It’s THE question I’ve been asked the most this year. It’s a good question but it assumes we are all expecting a big drop. I’m not. I don’t claim to know more than any expert but I have read the forecasts from experts across several industries and I haven’t seen a compelling argument that home prices in San Diego are going to drop significantly in the next few years.

Could prices drop by more than 10% next year? Perhaps, but that’s not a significant enough drop to stand on the sidelines if you are ready to buy a home in San Diego now. Our long term demand for housing units in San Diego, remains high. We have jobs and growing families and new people moving into the state faster than people are moving out. This demand is represented by a strong rent market and by the level of difficulty in finding affordable options across San Diego.

Mortgage interest rates have been climbing and we are told they will climb once more before the Fed is satisfied and will keep rates steady for awhile. But the rate moving up or down doesn’t make a home affordable or not for your family. You determine affordability based on your unique goals and plans for the future. For those that are more conscientious of risk, be sure you have contingency plans should things take an unexpected turn.

Home prices in San Diego are directly influenced by rising interest rates, but we also have another factor that is unique and that is that rent rates are climbing steadily. Another unprecedented factor is short term rentals, they have provided investors with opportunities that didn’t exist before. Now a home that would have rented for $2,000 a month is rented out by the night like a hotel and brings in an average of $3,500 a month. While the home as your primary residence may not be worth anymore to you, if you must move and rent your place out, you have a lot more security.

In June we saw home prices in San Diego begin to flatline, by that I mean, appreciation seemed to slow and inventory began to take longer to sell. Across San Diego county we have seen price cuts on homes that were priced in line with previous appreciation trends. Other homes are sitting unsold because they need improvements, these same properties previously sold without too much difficulty.

Given the current uncertainty by many buyers that assume a big drop in home prices is imminent, it can be an ideal time to negotiate with sellers who need to sell quickly and are getting nervous after a couple months of their home not selling. If you are buying your primary residence your outlook should be over the length of time you plan to live in the home. How will things go the next 5, 10 or 15 years? Nobody can know with certainty but the lesson has been learned in the ups and downs of the San Diego Real Estate market.

The previous decline was caused by a housing bubble created directly by irresponsible loan programs. (Adjustable rates, negative amortization, etc.) the domino effect created when homeowners with no money invested walked away from their mortgage was millions of foreclosures strong. That is what crashed the market in 2005-2008. What will cause the next adjustment? Who knows? But I do know many people that kept working, paying their mortgage and never touched their home equity, or lack thereof, through the last downturn.

So is now a good time to buy a home in San Diego?

Whatever you choose to do, consider the following tips to hedge against a potential drop:

1- how long do you plan to live in the area?

2- buy your home based on at least a 5 year plan

3- think about what it would rent for if you had to move unexpectedly

4- find a home with multigenerational living space.

5- look for a property with room for a granny flat or guest house/Accessory Dwelling Unit (ADU).

My next post will discuss granny flats/guest house/ADUs and how easy they are to add to your property.

This post was created and written by: Sean Chapman.

Sean has been working in the San Diego Real Estate Industry since 2003 and it has been his family’s business since as young as he can remember. He has been raised receiving an in-depth training and understanding of the industry. He loves to help his clients discover all the possibilities in their homes and properties of interest. He follows the market closely as it continually shifts over the years and he makes it his business to stay in touch with market trends in the greater San Diego County, Riverside County, Orange County, and Los Angeles County as well as across the entire nation. He spent several years in his career training thousands of Real Estate agents nationwide and has maintained those relationships over the years continuing his industry networking and continued education. He chooses to use the knowledge he gains to use as a priority to benefit his clients first and foremost.

Ode to Pomegranates and SoCal's greatest gifts...Home Grown Produce

It’s that time of year again, when there is just a hint of yellow starting to show and the reds are really starting to turn into a vibrant beacon of delight. Let’s get real here, we live in Southern California, which means the yellows and the beautiful reds can mean only one thing. It’s pomegranate season!

Growing up in Southern California means we live in one of the few places in the U.S. where we can grow almost anything if we really want to put in the effort. If the idea of putting in too much effort scares you away, then fruit trees can be your best friends.

Background time my friends. While Allie dreamed about moving to So Cal as a child, I dreamed of figuring out how to skip winter altogether by moving to Australia for four months out of the year. (I blame the movie Crocodile Dundee for choosing that location.) Don’t get me wrong we grew up snow skiing (yes, I am that old), and loved all the trips to Snow Summit, Bear Mountain. But we also grew up going to the lake, skiing, tubing, and even a few knee boarding experiences (still that old), wake boarding didn’t even exist till I was in college.  My wandering point is that we do live where we have the best of both worlds’ seasons, which also means we grew up with a huge garden.

My childhood home was on an acre and the back ½ acre was animal pens and gardens. My parents don’t have the walking backwards in the snow to school both ways stories. But they do tell of the time in the late 70’s where they grew so much produce from their garden one summer that they set up a stand on the driveway and sold enough stuff to make their house payment. That is a lot of fruits and veggies my friends. Needless to say we learned how to garden. Saturday chores often included weeding, dumping some sort of manure into the garden, planting stuff, pruning fruit trees, making new rows, transplanting something, but in reality, mostly weeding.

There are 4 of us siblings and though we may not agree on all points of life, we do agree that some of our favorite childhood memories are picking blackberries and eating pomegranates. (Not at the same time... blackberries are ready in April-June, Pom’s are ready September-November.) Now that I’m older and have to clean up after kiddo’s, I do realize that both of the fruits rate a 10 on the scale of potential messes and stains. But oh, it is so worth it!

Let’s talk about this odd fruit called a pomegranate. Most people have never eaten one unless they had a bush of their own, a neighbor had a bush and gave them some, or their mom was adventurous and willing to shell out a few bucks for one fairly small and often pathetic pom at the store.

Not all pom’s are created equal. (Note, I am tired of typing out the entire word, so pom is the abbreviation we get for the rest of this ode to pomegranates, starting now.) Meaning the pom’s in the store vs. the poms on your tree are not one in the same. The ones on the tree if left to ripen to the last minute are much sweeter than the ones in the store. For example, we picked our first 4 pom’s a few days ago (Oct 8th ) and they are still amazing, but not quite as sweet as they will be in 2 weeks. But we can’t eat all the pom’s in a 5 week period, so we start a few weeks before we really should - they taste like the stores pom’s, still good, but not yet hitting a state of nirvana. Pom’s are like dessert in our house. For reference, we love real desserts too, so it’s not like we are deprived of sugar. They are just that good. My kiddo will willingly get up to help peel (and sample) as we get the arils out of the skin, whereas if I asked her to help with cutting up oranges, she definitely wouldn’t be jumping for joy. It’s the equivalent of opening a new carton of the good ice cream and saying if you want some, come scoop it… they come running.

There are really only 8 types of pom’s in comparison to some fruit trees having 30 to 100 varieties. But that’s okay since they are so good, there is no need to mess with what is already perfection. If you want to be fancy and delve into the eight types of Pom bushes out there, I would suggest this website www.treesofantiquity.com. The kind I have growing in my Murrieta backyard is called “Wonderful Pomegranate”, the other common variety is “Sweet Pomegranate”. They were very creative when they named this bush all those years ago. Honestly those 2 varieties are the only kind I’ve ever seen in local stores. So when Costco or Armstrong’s have one… grab it.

Bush vs Tree? It’s a bush. Ask the experts. But we often hear the following “oh my grandparents had a pom tree in their yard when I was little”. You may think that it was a tree, but it’s a bush pruned into the shape of a tree. Why is it pruned into the shape of a tree then? The reason I try to get it a bit more tree shaped is that the low branches bend over and the scrumptious poms are growing in the dirt. I don’t want to clean that off and sometimes the bugs get to them faster if they are lower on the ground and if they get too moist from water they rot from the side touching the ground. And it’s a pain to reach between the branches to get the fruit in the middle.

It grows like a weed and will pay for itself within 1-2 years. Most bushes on sale, or at Costco, (Did I mention I love Costco’s fruit tree’s and bushes?) are around $25.00. Sometimes Armstrong’s garden has them for $50.00 if they are more mature. The Trees of Antiquity site has them for around 26.00 plus shipping. First year on the 2 most common types of pom bushes get fruit the very first season. Mine got 5-6 poms, the next year 12-15, the third year 50-60. I now consistently get 50-80 pom’s each year. At two bucks a pop for the huge ones, it definitely is worth having. Oh and they are organic as they really don’t need much. So it’s hard to make them not organic.

High yield – low maintenance means more than just the type of church member we try to teach our kids to be… it’s double meaning totally applies to this tree. It doesn’t get beetle rot, it takes 10 minutes to prune it for the entire year, if you choose to prune it at all! You actually don’t really have to prune it. So for all of us lazy gardeners, it’s like getting something for nothing. Just don’t tell your kids.

How to peel a pom. There are YouTube videos out there with various ways. I’ve tried many. I’ve been peeling them for over 30 years. Many say to put it in a bowl of water and peel them into the water submerged. It’s a pain and takes longer, but there is less splatter. I have a $3.00 dollar green tool that you use to kind of hit loose the stuff. It kind of works.  The way I’ve done it recently is sadly the old-fashioned way with disposable gloves on. Cut the thing in half, take one of the halves face it into a medium sized mixing bowl, push the middle with your thumbs while pulling out the edges towards the bowl. It showers a ton of arils into the bowl then go to work. If arils aren’t falling out easily it means they aren’t ripe. I use gloves, if you peel 20-30 of them your nails turn yellow from the acid and it doesn’t go away quickly. I also wear an apron as they stain. I use a cutting board that has the run off track for juice. If I want to let kiddo’s or neighborhood kiddo’s eat some… they have to peel it themselves - outside. Make sure they are wearing play clothes… they stain… and it’s an ugly stain…yellowish brown once it is washed out.

Pom Jelly. It rates a 10 on the delicious scale and is even better than pom salad. It used to take forever to make as you had to first peel the pom’s, then get the juice out of the pom’s.  I used to put the arils in a freezer bag and then run a rolling pin over it. What a pain that was. Then I bought a juicer. Best 100.00 I ever spent. It’s still a pain, but it’s a faster pain. I usually only make Pom Jelly once a year. It’s like a little homage to the great fruit we have to wait 9 more months for to eat again. It’s one of those things that takes so long, we rarely ever give it away. It’s one of the few selfish pleasures we don’t share. So if you want to experience this delightful tradition, plant a bush. It’s totally worth it.

If you don’t know how to garden and think you will kill it follow this advice. If you have trees or bushes in your yard that are alive, you too can grow this. Just buy it, plant it where it gets full sun, (meaning 6 or more hours of sunlight), water it and feed it four times a year. Not too hard. I promise. We carry around these cool devices that sometimes cost $1,000 and come with hundred page online manuals. You can plant a tree. If it dies, no biggy, if you bought it at Armstrong’s they offer lifetime warranty on their tree’s and bushes. Try again.

Trouble shooting: I often get people calling me and asking me that have tried to grow fruit tree’s ask why they aren’t getting any fruit. My response. Did you water it? “Yes”. Did you feed it.. “well no” then it won’t really grow fruit. It’s like a kid if you just watered it, it wouldn’t really grow. Feed it too. Nothing complex, just fertilizer you sprinkle on the ground. 4 times a year. But not September- November. Don’t get the fertilizer stakes that you have to pound into the ground with a hammer. Those things take forever to release. It’s logic, if your pounding it with a hammer, it probably won’t dissolve for a few years.  

Last tip… if your tree’s leaves all turn yellow and fall to the ground in December or so, the tree isn’t dead. That’s normal. It does that every year. In the spring they will grow back. Yes, I really have had concerned friends ask me about this. Love them to pieces, and it was a great laugh. We all have our talents.

Plant something folks. Out of the 15 fruit tree’s/bushes I have, this one truly is idiot proof. Easiest one to grow. Just leave it alone, minus food and water.

Not all of life is this simple. But sometimes we can see this one thing and just be grateful that some of life’s most cherished memories are from something so simple – fruit. Most favorite memories of our kids or family time or friend time will never be the TV or video games. It will be time spent together. Hands busy, mouths chatting about whatever happened that day. Kids talk when they are occupied. It’s a good kind of world where we live where we can decompress over a bowl of food. You don’t need 15 tree’s and years of experience. Be the Grandma that has that “pom tree” in her yard that grandkids remember enjoy going to and eating, or the family that has the pom bush. It’s a great conversation starter, a great way to meet neighbors and a great way to connect to each other. If all else fails it looks like a Charlie Brown Christmas tree with red balls already on it. And that also makes my heart happy my friends. Happy gardening.

This post was created and written by: Devin Clark

Let's Break Bread

“They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts”

Hey Ya’ll. That’s right, I said Ya’ll. I grew up right outside Memphis, TN and almost just a stones throw from Mississippi and Arkansas. If you’ve met me in person, you know that my sad reality is any accent I may have had as a child dissipated within the first year of leaving home, but occasionally you’ll hear a “ya’ll” or a “bless your heart”. We all know everyone likes someone just a little bit more when they have an accent;). In truth, I dreamed of moving to my mom’s hometown of Anaheim, CA or somewhere nearby and made many wishes over my birthday cakes over the years that’d I’d marry and settle down in Orange County, CA. I wasn’t too far off settling down in my husband’s old stomping grounds of Escondido, Ca in San Diego County and despite my sister’s constant bribes and pleading to move up by her in Orange County, I cannot think of a place I would love more than right where I am. I love the weather, the people, the schools, the zoo, the theme parks and the beach being just far enough away to avoid living in the June gloom, but close enough to make a easy quick day at the beach a breeze.

I do miss the south, the green, the southern accents, the slower pace and the fireflies (I REALLY miss the fireflies). Moving here, to Southern California, was a dream come true. Endless sunshine, year round outdoor activities, the beach, the easy going mentality, but right at first one thing I was not familiar with was there seemed to be a lot of concrete, a lot of homes, and a lot less open land. I knew that it would take some getting used to to make it feel like home. But if I learned anything from my mom and where I grew up it was that there’s nothing more important than making a house a home and taking time to sit around the Kitchen table and break bread with the people you care about.

I believe there’s an energy to a home, an energy that can be created from nothing or evolved over time, but an energy, nonetheless. That energy is the product of the story it leaves behind and the story it is inheriting. All those meals around the dinner table or on the back porch, the fighting over the last cookie or the laughing over the disgusting table manners of the 5 year old little brother or gagging because of the 16 year old older brother. The times when someone storms off in anger, and the times when everyone stays for hours, not wanting to miss a piece of the conversation. I personally have been present at every one of these occasions. At my house I’m usually there with paper goods and last minute quesadillas, but occasionally we are blessed with the laughter of just Sean, me and the kids saying the weirdest random things or like tonight having 2 friends over. 2 friends who both wear glasses and our 6 year old very boldly telling them that they should “REALLY eat more carrots. A carrot a day keeps the glasses AWAY!” as he takes another bite of his full carrot he had been gnawing on like a bunny rabbit because he’d rather not eat the cooked carrots that were chopped up in the soup that was served.

It’s right there, around that dinner table, where the magic happens. Where memories are created. A friend once told me “everyone’s happy around the dinner table because they’re all being fed and that just makes people happy to be fed”. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. When I was first married for several months our dinner table was a cooler and 2 camping chairs we received as gifts from our wedding. But it made no difference to us, it was the place we gathered, we came together every night, it was the heart beat of our home.

Growing up every Sunday we’d sit in the formal dining room and we almost always had guests, whether it was someone new to the area, someone just visiting or someone my mom was having temporarily live with us until they found something more permanent. It didn’t always have to be fancy, but it was always special… at least to me. It is one of my greatest childhood memories. It was part of my home’s ‘story’. My parents raised 8 children in that home. 6 boys and 2 girls. All of us have since moved away, but only 2 years ago we went back to visit for my younger brother’s wedding. Most of us being married with children by now we caravanned over to that old house and someone bravely knocked on the door. The owners looked surprised to see the gaggle of children and adults in their front lawn. We explained to them who we were and how we were raised in the home. The woman smiled big and with a great deal of sentiment said, “Oh the McEwen’s…people still call this the McEwen’s house.”

She proceeded to let all of us in to tour the house and see what it has become. This sweet woman took what my mom had so thoughtfully created of the house and added upon it. It was even more beautiful than I had remembered but had all the same feelings of love and coziness. That day was a gift as we talked and laughed and cried over the memories and stories that had been and still were in that home. They too, obviously broke bread together across from their kitchen table and enjoyed what is best enjoyed at “home”.

So whether you are in the process of coming or going or staying right where you are, just know that the beauty and magic of a home isn’t in it’s perfectly clean floors or decorated walls but it’s most importantly in the people, the voices, the laughs, the tears, and the joys shared around that dinner table where you break bread with friends and family alike.

This post was created and written by: Allie Chapman