ojai has always had a special place in my heart ever since i had the chance of going to school here many many years ago. i look upon that year with fondness and i appreciate the tie i have to this picturesque town and its spiritual centers, meditation retreats and orchards. i wouldn't have a problem, say, if i had to live here again, especially if i owned this house we stayed in. and what a house.
here's a picture of 'our house' (oh we wish, we wish...) or rather the view from one of the many windows. you can see a small section of a walking trail that leads to soule park in the middle of this photo. the parks, trails, bike path and downtown were mere steps away from the house, though it looks as if we were miles from civilization.
it's officially 'our house' now. i think we fell in love, not with just the house itself, but with its views and peaceful energy. i can dream forever of the grove of trees spiraling into its little canyon and creeks.
here's a view of the house from the walking trail.
like i said, dylan fell head over heels for the house the minute he stepped in. he didn't want to leave and spent hours gathering sticks, rocks, playing in the grass, exploring the magical attic room, its gardens, and of course, playing on the furniture.
the house was a pristine, restored craftsman from the 1920s. i could not get enough of the house, the stunning setting, the french vintage pieces, the european bathroom and fixtures, and on and on that made the house such an architectural gem. we thoroughly enjoyed nestling into the 'bones' of the house -- and seeing the details that makes a house a house; we could feel the love and passion and time the owner spent in making the house not just a collection of rooms, but into a story---the collection of vintage pieces lovingly restored back to life, the art on the walls, the bob dylan poster in the basement, the pool table, the old california pottery collection. the more i pored over everything the house had to offer, i could feel the house saying, here's my story, my history, my place. here is how the house should be used, here is where one thinks, where one is inspired, where one relaxes and heals and rests. and how does one do that in a house. very carefully, i imagine. i imagine the owner just pluckily, luckily, LOVING the house, as she culled each unique piece and curated each room, one by one, with patience and devotion. yard sales, travels, antique stores, found objects...the house was absolutely loved. the owner wanted to tell a story by filling a beautiful house.
we also delighted in watching dylan explore the house and its grounds. everything to him was a game, a fairy tale, or a railroad; he'd sit under the trees and re-enact stories, recite songs and plotlines from the hundreds of children's stories we read to him at bedtime, says john. and that was pretty magical to see. it's as if the the trees were a canopy for his imagination and his wondering.
every morning, the mountains were misty (view from the ojai sunday farmer's market).
and every morning, we soaked in the greenery of the outside and inside.
it made me wonder, how come we don't get out of town more often? (terrible traffic.) how come we don't have fresh organic fruits and produce and baked goods from the best farmer's market ever? (BEST EVER IN CALIFORNIA, in my opinion, anyway.) how come we don't breathe in fresh, clean, mountain air every day?
and how come we don't stop to notice the little things, like how delicious a frozen grape is for breakfast, and how smelly a dog can get after a wet rain. well, actually we notice our smelly dogs often, and it's pretty pungent.
of course, django and dylan fell into a predictable routine at mealtimes. django would beg for scraps, dylan would munch happily away, and django would subsequently drool on the carpet. home sweet home.
we did a lot of exploring around the valley. we love small towns, and ventura county has got some gems. fillmore is an agricultural town situated beneath the topa topa mountains, and is true-blue working class; whereas ojai's art galleries attract a yoga-fied, crunchy-organic, hippie-chic glamour retiree set, fillmore is totally old california at heart: miles and miles of citrus orchards, vineyards, fruit stands, some rough neighborhoods, and dazzling sunsets over the topa topas. fillmore also means one thing for dylan---the old train museum at the fillmore railway!
all aboard! dylan and john ran into a one 'conductor charlie' who was getting ready to run the diesel engine for that night's 'murder mystery' dinner train. when john explained that dylan loved trains, charlie was nice enough to give them a birds' eye view from the cab of the engine. they also toured the kitchen and dining cars as the crew prepped for the mystery dinner. the mystery train sounds so kitschy and so 'medieval times' that we've got a hankering to come back one of these saturday nights and experience the campy theatrics (and the food on the train) for ourselves.
stay tuned for more 'ojai road trip part two'!
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