Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was born..no, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ pkmorrison.livejournal.com and www.myspace.com/hermajestythelizardqueen)

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

California Beamin'



Man, turn around and rhere's another month gone...still, it's been busy around here on so many fronts...

Just got back from a week in LA, staying with friends in Malibu. Business first, then a lovely drive up to Big Sur from Monday to Wednesday. Stayed in an adorable little cabin-style renovated motel called Glen Oaks, deep amongst oaks and redwoods, looks nondescript from outside but the rooms are terrific: stone floors in the bathroom with underfloor heating, gas fireplace in the wall, Asian decor. Clean and elegant. No TV, alas, so I will have to do some catching up online.

I saw deer outside my window when I woke up, and a flock of wild turkeys clomped around on the roof, and I tried to sleep under a barrage of acorns, like little, or not so little, bombs falling from great heights. Those oaks are TALL. Not as tall as the redwoods, though: how amazing those trees are. Also saw elephant seals in a rookery, and sea otters in the wonderful Monterey Aquarium (no humpback whales...I've watched that Star Trek movie too often), and the glorious San Carlos mission in Carmel, where Father Serra himself is buried (shoutout to Franciscans!).

We ate like kings: the first night at Deetjen's Big Sur Inn, a hippie/hobbit delight of a place where I will absolutely stay if ever I go back there, I had pork tenderloin wrapped in smoked bacon with a mushroom/apple/red wine au jus and a parmesan polenta cake on the side, with the best crab cakes EVER for appetizers. Sublime. THe second night we had dinner at this famous place Nepenthe, perched on a crag overlooking the ocean, almost as good: I had duck in an Asian BBQ glaze with basmati rice, my traveling companion had chicken with sage stuffing, and we split homemade Dutch apple pie with vanilla ice cream. And breakfasts at a tiny cafe right next to the motel: pancakes recommended.

The coastline is every bit as gorgeous as it looks on TV: ocean, rocks, trees. But I thought the Ventana Wilderness/Los Padres National Forest, which we had to pass through on the way up that terrifying Highway 1, was even more gorgeous. Huge heaped rocks, mountains shouldering their way down to the water, hairpin turns...fabulous.

Then back to LA, and home on Thursday. Altogether a most excellent adventure.