I am from a town called Upland, nestled in the crook of the San Gabriel Mountain range here in Southern California. I’ve returned home to my mother’s house, which I left for New York City in 2001. We’ll be here for just a little while, as I grow a baby and we both grow our businesses in this new and exciting and sunshiney home.
You can see the mountains from every window in the house but southerly facing ones. After the rain, it blooms green in the summer, and white in the winter. Having lived in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts, I always found it curious that people would call the rolling hills there mountains. THESE are the mountains. We here in Upland have always just referred to the looming north as Mount Baldy. But you can’t actually see Mount Baldy from my house. It’s the tallest peak in the range, and I think we just called it that because when you go to the mountains, Mount Baldy is just where you end up. I never even knew the names of the two forward peaks until recently. One is called Cucamonga, and the other Ontario. Predictable enough, as the towns adjacent to Upland are Rancho Cucamonga and Ontario. Behind them is Mount Baldy, and that’s where we headed on a rare and free Sunday afternoon after Thanksgiving.
I treasure these days with my Huz, with our baby girl still nestled in my belly. I’m so incredibly grateful that our home is in Southern California now, and on November 29th we didn’t have to brace ourselves to leave the house so we could venture out into the indoors. I didn’t even have to wear a sweater, and we hiked the canyons in my flip flops. A controversial decision, as toward the end of our adventure, we saw a GIANT TARANTULA in the parking lot of the mountain bar we went to!!! I would show you a picture, but I didn’t take one because they scare the crap out of me. Some memories are better left unphotographed .