After the media trucks and TV lights had cleared out from yesterday’s grand opening, Grace and Grandpa “Chrissy” made their first family-only visit to Grace’s Garden this morning. Grandpa, used to the 5-minute attention span of a 2-year-old wasn’t expecting much, but honestly, was very pleased when 90 minutes later, Grandma had to drag us out of the garden for lunch and a diaper change (Grace, not me).

As toddlers will, after putting in some Marigolds (the planned activity), Grace discovered adventures completely missed by “management.” Pictured here is the game called “Boom!” which consists mainly of throwing double fistfuls of the garden’s ground-tree mulch (called “kid play”) into the air while yelling “Boom!” True, a couple times we yelled “Terrance” instead of “Boom” after her new boyfriend, the cuddle-interest in her current fav Disney vid “Tinkerbelle and the Lost Treasrue.”

Next up was a game where we cued up small mounds of wood chips on the planter box rails, then swept them off with a flick of the hand or, later, a whisk broom provided by Grandma, called “All clean, now!”

We were ready to retreat to the local K-5 school’s slides and swings, but Grace discovered yet another new game, now dubbed “Eight Hills.” On two sides of the garden, the ground cover awaits in piles for the final border plants to go in – Grace discovered that she could climb – and jump from the top of – eight “hills,” which, of course, being 2, we did about 20 times. Grandma finally broke it up – hard to say who was having more fun, Grace or me…

Today marked the gala opening, and official christening of Grace’s Garden, the overdue replacement for Dotcom Garden, which went bust in the downturn when VC money dried up.

Celebrities on hand included granddaughter Grace, 2, Grandpa, Grandma, Blanky (sorry, Julie) Carrots, Radishes and Snap Peas, all fresh from a triumphant tour of the Roger Reynolds nursery.

Ms. Grace was seen making out the letters of her name on the small, celeb-only gate that admitted her to the big event, and, later, on the marquee that bears her name. She also tossed many trowels of earth onto Carrots and Radishes, not just the usual 1-trowel ceremonial show, proving what a trooper she really is. As flashes popped, the limo then whisked her away for her nap….

I’ve seen the last couple birthdays as an opportunity to look back upon the gifts I’ve been given in the previous 12 months. This past year brought a month in France, in a tiny village in Southern Burgundy with very good friends, and even a few weeks there with hard-working Linda. It brought another year of John, Julie and Grace, our delightful, now two-year old granddaughter.

It saw the birth of InMenlo, which (don’t tell the editor) has revived me as a photographer, much to my delight. The new garden is in, and I’ve spent pleasant afternoons these past two weeks putting in spring greens and (sometimes) just sitting in the afternoon sun, dreamily surveying the new life sprouting in the planter boxes.

Besides France we had two memorable journeys : a ten-day blues trek from Memphis down to Greenville, Mississippi with a stop at “The Crossroads,” Clarksdale, MI, wherefrom hails very nearly every blues great of our generation. We also spent a magical week over the holidays in New York, courtesy of very good friends who let us invade their apartment.

And, it goes without mention that I’ve had another year of a very loving and supportive spouse, who has shouldered a huge burden (me) these past three years with hardly a whimper. Can one complain about a year like this? I think only a lout and an ingrate would fail to see how lucky he’s truly been.

I even have a Facebook inbox stuffed with birthday wishes from friends old and new today. I’m touched.

So, we’ve spent this birthday at the gym, for our usual 90-minute Wednesday strength-plus-cardio rehab workout, at Fry’s for a fun (for geek me) walking tour before buying needed smoke-alarm batteries, at Peet’s, where we broke protocol and bought a carb-laden calorie bomb, disguised as a “healthy” muffin, that was completely delicious, followed by incidental chores, an hour in the garden preparing Grace’s special corner for her overnight visit this weekend, a particularly fun InMenlo assignment and dinner at The Village Pub, a big treat for amateur chef moi. Couldn’t be more pleased with this day, or this past year… and save the date for next year, if the cancer gods allow a 60th: major festivities are planned…

Photo by Linda Hubbard Gulker

News item: friend Victor Frost, after prevailing in 14 complaints against him under Palo Alto’s sit-lie ordinance (aka the ‘Victor Frost law’) was finally ordered to stand trial by a County judge who refused to throw out the Palo Alto ordinance on discrimination grounds.

The judge found that, while enforcement may have been discriminatory in practice, the City had no intent to discriminate when it made the law. A fine point, to be sure.

Victor will get his day in Court, and a jury trial at that. Trust me, Victor can present well when he chooses to. And the judge left open the door for an appeal on First Amendment grounds…

All the oaks appeared to be upright on that very pretty street, and their mossy limbs made a wonderful tangle when viewed from Bay Road.

The cloud cover had made what a studio photographer would call a ’soft box’, basically a large diffuser placed between the light source (the sun, in this case) and the subject. Where studio soft boxes are measured in feet, today’s sky would measure in the hundreds of square miles. The light was exquisite.

As luck would have it, I was filing my pictures from the InMenlo satellite office at (the new) Peet’s, when in walked Steve, from Palo Alto (pictured here). You have got to love this delightfully battered mug with its sparkling eyes and smile shining through. It took a little coaxing, but eventually we cajoled Steve out of the warm confines and onto the sidewalk near a neutral background, for an open-sky portrait.

Readers with a photo bent may recall that another Palo Altan, Victor Frost, was my guinea pig for the open-sky project. We’ll be keeping our eyes peeled for other likely suspects as the forecast continues to promise overcast skies…

Two mile (plus) walk, omelettes at Mike’s, two-person team coverage of an ad hoc InMenlo story catch – such was our morning. The big event was a stop at Ladera Nursery for the first plants for our long-awaited and just-finished new vegetable garden. Gardener Felipé Bustos and carpenter David Sanchez have done a great job – I’m really pleased.

We put in chard, romaine lettuce and snap peas and will be filling in plants at weekly intervals this year, to try and supply continuous fresh salads and vegetables from here on out. Dinner and a movie with a hot blonde completed this lovely day…

Tuesday found us downtown, in pouring rain, running an errand near the local Le Boulanger, the bakery and café chain, known here for it’s good, inexpensive lunches and equally good, free, completely open WiFi network. Whole virtual corporations use the place as their downtown Menlo Park conference room – the booths on the west end are particularly popular. As I prepared to make the dash from car to lunch, I noticed that Le Boulanger’s regular street person, an African-American man, was braving the rain to hold down his usual lunchtime perch – a low retaining wall – with umbrella and even a plastic wrap over his cardboard sign.

Like the woman I blogged yesterday, I find myself unaware of his name or story. But unlike Tuesday’s subject, he and I have interacted. Frequently when I have approached the door, particularly in days past, when I was even more of a mobility trainwreck than I now am, he would leap from his post and open the café’s heavy door, seeing me safely in. There were hard days as I first began reclaiming my life when this grace was deeply appreciated.

I’ve always meant to reciprocate, perhaps with a few dollars, but somehow the opportunity never presented itself. Though I was never his benefactor, he was often mine. Nowadays that I’m walking better and opening my own doors, he lets me do it, though he often enough nods and returns my observations about the weather and other small talk. I’d very much like to make a connection, but something tells me to take this slowly…

For years, I’ve seen her on the streets of Menlo Park, often pushing a shopping cart piled high with possessions, including scavenged plastic bags, plastic sheets and a dirty sleeping bag. I don’t know her name or her story.

I’ve never seen her in the company of another person: she is a solitary figure, unlike some of Menlo’s other street people who will banter with locals, and cheerily wish us good day near the entrance to Draeger’s or Peet’s.

Sometimes I’ve spotted her in line at Walgreen’s with a few cheap food items in her hands, and other times taking out food from Ann’s Cafe – she never sits in the diner, rather taking her meal from a styrofoam box on one of the benches on the sidewalk on Santa Cruz Avenue, where she sits alone, a few feet but a million miles away from the worlds of the Menloites who walk past.

Last year, I made it my Lenten discipline to reach out and become acquainted with homeless people. That quest led to becoming friends with Victor Frost, a (famously) homeless man in Palo Alto.

This year, my plan is to approach Menlo Park’ street regulars, in the hopes of making a connection, and learning their story, and telling it on InMenlo, in the hopes of bringing people into focus that we often see but don’t know. Off into the wilderness, for forty days…

Indeed, I’ve noted a couple of times how much I love being back out on the streets taking pictures and interviewing people, though I am much slower than I once was, if only because I walk so much more haltingly than was once the case. Nevertheless,  I’ve managed to put together lightweight gear that makes the most of what capabilities I have. More importantly I’ve had to adjust my style, and expectations. I’m more static than I once was, which means planning and thinking through pictures beforehand. As I work more, I’m developing a few techniques that are manageable and result in (hopefully) compelling pictures.

A small Olympus digital voice recorder has joined my camera bag, a new friend that goes along with my Nikon, capturing the chatter as I try to put my photo subjects at ease. With my Bose headphones on, I now write posts and edit pictures from wherever there’s WiFi. I started this post at Peet’s then moved to the patio at gulker.com World HQ after a dense morning fog lifted, revealing the sun, and now, a balmy afternoon…

Linda and I stumbled upon this place shortly after it opened, when I attended the Going Green conference here a few years back. The restaurant, Murray Circle, has just improved year after year, and we find ourselves lured back to a spot that’s a short drive but a psychic world away from Menlo Park.

Today we had the additional lure of Grace, the granddaughter, whose parents brought her over for a jaunt through the Discovery Museum, a toddler paradise that’s part of the recreation area, complete with its own tot-sized Golden Gate Bridge. We’re both, fundimentally, just vegging here, and loving every minute…