Though there’s a decent amount of things to do in the area, we tend to turn into pool-dwelling, sun-worshipping (we do live in Oregon after all), trashy-book reading sloths. When we do bust out of our routine it’s usually to the mini-golf range where my mother is known to throw tantrums and my husband does creative score-keeping.

Yesterday I decided to get my mother and nine-year-old daughter out of the house. First stop, Cheekys, for a mind-blowingly good breakfast. I had not only the eggs benedict with poached eggs, braised arugula and bacon on a cheesy biscuit, but also a buttermilk corn blueberry pancake. This pancake was easily the most delicious pancake I’ve ever eaten. The corn part of the cake was kernels of corn in the batter, and it added an incredible texture. I’m right now thinking of getting up and heading there.

After waddling out of breakfast, we went searching for desert wildflowers. Specifically the hairy sand verbena. What better way to spend a morning than driving down dirt roads in the desert trying to spot a small, fuzzy plant. We understood from the local paper that this is primo wildflower season, and my mother was key to see all of the purpley widlflowers. Of course we found only yellow wildflowers that looked to be more in the weed category. This incredibly cool three-pronged yellow sunburst was discovered by my mother though, and I do think it was a find.

Okay, fine. This was just a fantasy and I’ve actually been at home in rainy Portland, Oregon for the last three or so months glued to my kitchen counter working on the upcoming Spring eat.shop titles for Paris, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco and the Twin Cities.

Where has the time gone? Certainly not to this blog. But now I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m trying to think of another cliché to add here for drama, but it alludes me. Feel free to add some cliché suggestions…

During these years, my friend Amy and I would drive the 10 freeway east from Los Angeles heading to 29 Palms and Joshua Tree. There would usually be two stops along the way. First stop: Claremont, where we would check in at our friend Nick’s Cafe Trevi. After a little infusion, we’d get back on the road until we came to the super-sized metropolis of Cabazon—population 2,000 or so humans and 2 whopping dinosaurs.

Over the years, and many stops to pay homage to Dinny and Rex—Amy and I decided that if we ever had our own businesses (to note: we had probably just quit another job to take the trip we were on), we would name these businesses in honor of Cabazon.

Though the mythical Cabazon Films never came to pass, both Cabazon Design (my design studio) and Cabazon Books (the publishing entity for eat.shop) are actual functioning entities. Miraculous.