The interior of the Stansbury Home remains much as it was in its heyday. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Standing regal on the corner of Fifth and Salem streets in Chico is the Stansbury Home.
The 10-room house cost less than $8,000 to build in 1883. The quarter block of land was another $1,000.
This was the home of Oscar and Libbie Stansbury and their two daughters, Ellen and Angeline.
The Stansburys built their home in the late 1800s on what was the edge of Chico. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Oscar Stansbury was a doctor in town. He had an office in the home where he would see people on weekends and after hours. An early version of an intercom system was created so those on the front stoop could wake him if he were in bed. He always let these patients in via a side door so as not to arouse suspicions of nosy neighbors who might see someone not of their social circle entering through the front door.
At the time the house was considered on the outskirts of town. Now it’s a stone’s throw from the heart of downtown. Back in the day goats roamed around the open land.
Angeline Stansbury decorated her room with travel destinations she never visited. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Angeline Stansbury lived in the home until her death in 1974. Even though she was in her early 90s when she died, Stansbury never moved from her childhood room into the more spacious primary bedroom. She taught at Chico High School for 40 years.
Today the house is on the National Register of Historic Places, and is a museum that is partially owned by the city of Chico and the Stansbury Home Preservation Association. The latter is responsible for most of the oversight of the property, operation of the house and maintenance.
Angeline Stansbury watched what happened to the Bidwell Mansion after John and Annie Bidwell’s deaths—at one time it served as a dorm for Chico State—and she didn’t want that same outcome for her family home. In fact, there was a time she wanted her home to be torn down.
The second floor bathroom is concrete so in case it flooded it would not damage the lower floor. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
An agreement was reached where she would live out her life in the home, sell it upon her death at a much reduced price to the city and preservation society.
The Stansburys and Bidwells were not friends, as the latter were more affluent.
Since the loss of Bidwell Mansion at the hands of an arsonist in December 2024, the fire marshal has suggested things the association could do, and other experts are offering advice on how to preserve things in the event of disaster.
The original dining table and chairs at the Stansbury Home. (Kathryn Reed)
Eighty percent of the furnishings are original, with other pieces from that time period.
A few improvements have occurred like new windows that have a film on them to preserve the interior artifacts. The roof was replaced during the pandemic.
The home is like stepping back in time. Docent stories about the family are interesting. The Stansbury Home is an excellent example of public-private partnerships that benefit the community.
This dahlia is about to burst open at the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Be sure to visit the dahlia and vegetable gardens.
That was the advice of the woman taking my $23 to enter the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens. She was spot on with the suggestions, especially with the dahlias running their course in October.
Fort Bragg is a Bee City, a recognition for being a place that makes it safe for pollinators. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Being there in late September meant I was treated to a kaleidoscope of color. A marker said one plant had produced 461 flowers this season. This garden has more than 625 individual plants, consisting of 150 varieties.
“Dahlias are named for the Swedish botanist Andreas Dahl and are members of the plant family Asteraceae. They were first discovered in Mexico and are endemic to Central and South America,” the botanical garden’s website says. “The Aztec Herbal Manuscript indicates that the dahlia plant was used in the treatment of urinary disorders and epilepsy. In 1789, the genus Dahlia was first introduced to Europe at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Madrid. Nine years later, this genus was introduced to the Kew Gardens. Dahlias come in a range of forms and colors and with proper care, can be an easy addition to temperate gardens.”
Dahlias come in a variety of shapes and colors. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Dahlias were among the first flowers Ernest Schoefer, the founder of this botanical garden, planted. The gardens opened to the public in 1966.
Also impressive was the fuchsia collection. The color alone was spectacular, with the shape of the flora almost seeming whimsical. Mother Nature really is amazing.
“The beautiful bicolored flowers of hybrid fuchsias, recognized by plant lovers the world over, are under attack here on the Pacific Coast by the fuchsia gall mite (Aculops fuchsia). This Brazilian mite came to the United States via contaminated plant material. Spread by hummingbirds, bees, gardeners and wind, the mite causes plants to become deformed, eventually resulting in their death. Because the pest is so difficult to treat, many West Coast gardeners no longer grow hybrid fuchsias,” a sign in the garden says. “One way to avoid damage is to plant mite resistant species and hybrids. Both are found here in the Woodland Garden, which showcases a diverse and amazing array of fuchsias. Here you will find 8-foot shrubs with long red blooms, tiny creepers with yellow recurved petals, and familiar hybrids with their easily recognized purple and red blossoms.”
Fuchsia magellanica is commonly known as the hummingbird fuchsia, hardy fuchsia or chilco. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
That’s the thing about this garden, it’s really multiple gardens within a larger space. I would imagine it doesn’t matter what time of year one goes, there will be something in bloom.
The rhododendrons must be spectacular in spring and early summer; there were so many of them dormant in early fall.
As with most well-kept gardens, there is always something to ogle over. The greenery itself is lovely.
Splashes of yellow from dahlia pinnatas sparkle in the garden. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
This 47-acre garden has four miles of trials, with it being about a half mile from the entrance to the ocean. The fact it sits on the Pacific Ocean makes it even more spectacular. A large swath of the area—including the coastal trail—is wheelchair friendly.
With benches scattered about, it’s easy to put your feet up and just stare at the beauty. Sculptures add to the natural beauty.
A surprising find was massive cacti. The sign says, “While other native succulents are found in the most parts of the world, most of us think of cacti as desert plants. In fact, native cacti grow from Alaska to Chile. Some have evolved to survive freezing winters in Canada and the state of Wisconsin. The right soil and good drainage make it possible to grow cacti here at the botanical garden.”
It would be easy to spend hours here. With a little restaurant on site, one could stay fueled to keep going for the better part of a day. For those with less time, it’s easy to hit what’s in season and call it good.
Plenty of greenery to be seen at the gardens no matter the time of year. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Mendocino Headlands is a perfect place to watch the sunset. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
It could not have been better. OK, it really could have been. It could have been longer.
Six nights in late September at the Stanford Inn by the Sea in Mendocino was a birthday gift to myself. I really should treat myself this well even when the year doesn’t end in a zero.
Seldom does a place meet, let alone exceed, my expectations. The Stanford Inn was everything I hoped it would be.
A vegan restaurant cooking up breakfast that is nothing close to the standard continental fare served at chain hotels intrigued me. As a vegetarian, it’s a luxury to be able to choose anything on the menu.
The Ravens at Stanford Inn in Mendocino has exceptional carrot cake. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Stanford Inn is one of the few vegan resorts in the United States. Most people who stay there—95 percent—are not vegan, according to one employee. Clearly the lack of an animal on the menu is not keeping people away.
The food did not disappoint. In fact breakfast was so filling (sometimes I got a to-go container) the only real dinner I had was on my birthday. I especially liked that most options were savory instead of sweet.
The grounds at the Stanford Inn are lush and inviting. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Let me first tease you a bit with what some of my breakfast choices were:
Portobello Benedict—English muffin, with spinach, grilled tomato and marinated portobello slices. Ravens hollandaise sauce. Choice of potatoes.
Stanford Herbed Polenta—Their signature brunch entrée: grilled sun-dried tomato polenta with garden greens sautéed in our braising sauce. Served with our cashew cream sauce.
Ravens Waffle or Pancakes—House-made buckwheat and oat waffle or pancakes. Served with organic maple syrup and fresh organic seasonal fruit compote.
The Ravens is the name of the restaurant. One does not have to be a guest at the inn to eat breakfast or dinner there. Lunches are provided on a to-go basis for guests if requested.
The hardest decision I had to make the whole time I was there was what time to make my breakfast reservation.
Books catering to the philosophy of Stanford Inn are for sale and able to be read in the adjacent comfortable seating in front of the fireplace. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
The vegan aspect of this inn was the icing on the cake, not the main draw.
Sustainability is a big part of what Jeff and Joan Stanford, the owners, are promoting. This year marks their 45th business anniversary. At check-in I was provided with a 45-page booklet (to keep) that explains their way of thinking and so much more.
“We began by seeking an integrated lifestyle, sensitive to nature, supporting biodiversity on the property, and equity among our staff while creating an opportunity for our guests to experience what we do,” it reads. “Since no one pushed us in this direction we did not want to push guests or staff. Rather we were and are providing an environment for a ‘soft sell’, transforming a redwood motel/lodge into a resort offering healthy experiences, a compassionate and healthful take on dining, and creating beautiful gardens that also produce food.”
A solarium houses the pool, hot tub and sauna at Stanford Inn. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
The inn checked so many boxes I was looking for in a solo get-away. Location—can’t beat it. The Northern California coast is worthy of a visit no matter the time of year. It’s not that far of a drive from almost anywhere else in this half of the state.
State parks and public lands are in abundance for hiking, mountain biking and other recreating. I barely scratched the surface with my two hikes and two rides. The first outing was to Russian Gulch State Park, while the next hike was at Van Damme State Park. Bike rides included Jackson Demonstration State Forest and one out of Big River that became a bit convoluted, but fun and memorable.
Point Cabrillo Light Station in Mendocino. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Point Cabrillo Light Station, one of the historic lighthouses on the coast, is worth a visit especially if you are at Russian Gulch.
The resort provides bikes, though I brought mine. It’s also possible to rent kayak-canoes. I passed, as paddling isn’t that much of a draw for me.
After one of the more vigorous activities (hiking, biking) I usually ventured to the hot tub, which is inside a solarium. The abundance of plant life makes it a bit exotic. This, too, is where the pool and sauna are located.
A friend treated me to a massage—which was the perfect activity on my day where I said no to true physical activity. A part of that day was also spent strolling through the gardens, where many of the ingredients in the kitchen come from.
Another reason I didn’t need dinner was the resort offers snacks in the late afternoon for guests and happy hour. Twice I indulged in tofu wraps that were a nice complement to the food I had waiting for me in the room.
Stanford Inn guests paddle one of the outriggers available for rent at Big River. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
A small part of Mendocino Bay is visible from inside the restaurant and on the patio. That sliver of water was also discernible from my private deck.
Oh, those sunsets. It’s hard to find a better place to watch the sun go down than at the ocean. While Mendocino doesn’t have much in the way of restaurants for such an activity, my sister, Jann, steered me to Ledford House down the road in Albion. Fantastic setting.
The Mendocino Headlands State Park is a perfect spot to enjoy the sunset while walking along the bluffs above the water.
Back at the inn I had a fire every night. You know, the kind that requires a match to start, not a flick of a switch. Oh, how I miss a wood burning stove and splitting wood. This really might have been the true selling point—that every room comes with a wood fireplace. It was heavenly.
Wrapped in my cushy robe, with the window cracked just a bit, I sat on the king bed with a glass of wine mesmerized by the fire. It’s what I did for entertainment every night. Oh, and reading.
All rooms at the Stanford Inn come with a wood fireplace. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Between the reception and dining areas is essentially a bookstore that beckons people to browse and sit a spell with the comfy seating and wood fireplace. I had no idea there are so many vegan oriented books. Most books had some social or environmental message. Fine by me.
Still, books are the last thing I need more of. I came home with four new ones, including the inn’s cookbook. I managed to finish the book I brought with me along with three others. Amazing what one can accomplish when work is on hold.
Oh, there’s a TV in the room that I assume works. With all the outdoor exercise possibilities, I never used the small gym.
On my way out of town on the edge of Fort Bragg I stopped at the 47-acre Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens. What a beautiful send off as I headed inland.
OK, so no one was saying that or any other obnoxious chant. And that was a good thing.
The fact there were no bases to run and score was not being kept was even better. The swing and misses; no one was counting those either.
Welcome to the world of batting cages. Going there was an early birthday present from Sue. It’s something I have wanted to do—swing for the fences even if no fences were in sight.
Kae Reed ready to demonstrate her batting abilities. (Image: Sue Wood)
I’ve been watching Grey’s Anatomy and a couple times they went to batting cages to release their stress. I can certainly see how it would be cathartic. A healthy way to get out aggressions.
On this particular day we were there to have fun, see if we could make contact, and have a few laughs.
We took the advice of the employee at Aces Ball Club in Santa Rosa when it came to selecting various settings. We knew to opt for softballs instead of baseballs as that’s the sport we’ve both played.
The worker said to go with slow pitch—also, all we’ve ever played. My last round I did fast pitch at Sue’s urging. I picked the slowest speed, which I think was 30-something miles per hour. I picked middle of the plate, but it was so low it took more of a golf swing to make contact.
The difference between slow and fast pitch was phenomenal. I did OK after not making contact the first two or three balls. Watch the ball and good things can happen—just like in tennis.
I could see how batting cages could be a good solo activity, with one friend or a group activity.
In our world of overstimulation this was simple. No video screen to say where the ball might have landed (infield fly, over the fence, etc.), what the exit velocity was, or any details.
It was just the ball (via machine) and one of us swinging the bat trying to make contact. That’s one of the things I liked about it—the simplicity, the return to basics, being in the moment, being focused.
Everyone is welcome at Rikki’s bar in San Francisco, but only women’s sports will be on the TVs. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Tennis is the women’s sport I watch most often. I’ve been doing so since I was a kid. I’m a player, so I’m sure that’s a big component of my draw to the television.
But, boy—or should I say, girl—how things have evolved through the decades.
Women’s sports are no longer an oddity, a rarity, or something to be considered as an afterthought. More women (and girls) are playing sports at an early age, are becoming elite athletes, and are making a living doing so.
But how often do you see these games on TV at a sports bar? Rarely.
The Sports Bra in Portland opened in 2022 as the first women’s sports bar in the United States. This means they only show women’s sports on those big screens.
Fast forward to this past June and now San Francisco can boast of having a women’s only sports bar—Rikki’s.
Men are welcome at these bars, just like women are welcome at male dominated bars that predominately air men’s sporting events.
One wall at Rikki’s is a tribute to women’s sports teams in the Bay Area. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
It was incredible to sit at Rikki’s with my beer and fries listening to fans. Soccer was on the tube. I know little about the sport—doesn’t matter the gender playing. Hearing whoops and yells as someone made a goal or when an attempt missed the net was exciting. These people knew their sport—didn’t matter the U.S. was not competing.
That’s the thing about sports—they are unifying. They unify across genders, ages, abilities, races, and nationalities.
A problem, though, is it’s hard to unify in public when your sport and gender can’t be found on TV. NBC News reported there were only six women’s sports bars in the country at the start of the year, with a projection of 24 by the end of the year. That’s progress worth toasting.
People want to watch women’s sports. In fact the 2024 NCAA women’s basketball final had more viewers than the men’s finals. The WNBA had 54 million viewers last season. The 2023 Women’s World Cup soccer broke viewing (and attendance) records.
It was the inability to find a place to watch women’s soccer and basketball that led Danielle Thoe and Sara Yergovich to open Rikki’s. The bar is named after Rikki Streicher, who died in 1994. Streicher was a co-founder of the Gay Games Federation, and owned bars in The City.
Live at Lakeview (aka free outdoor concerts) is a Thursday night ritual in South Lake Tahoe during the summer. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Something about live music is so unifying. It brings people together. Its evokes memories and creates new ones. It’s food for the soul.
And free music, well that can be even better. It’s an equalizer where anyone can be part of the crowd.
You don’t have to understand the lyrics to feel the music. Yes, music isn’t just heard. Music touches so many of our senses.
The Latin rhythms of Suika T & Band and Miranda Rae Love filled the air on July 31 at the Live at Lakeview outdoor weekly concerts in South Lake Tahoe. (I missed Love, the opening act.) These concerts started in 2012, and have been going strong ever sense. The type of music changes, so there’s bound to be something for nearly everyone.
This night was billed as cumbia funk. I had never heard of this music genre before, but the energy was very familiar. Suika T’s website says they blend electro cumbia, Latin rhythms, and hip pop with elements of funk, reggae, and dance hall.
It makes you want to be on a warm beach sipping an adult beverage. In this case it was a cool beach with a beer in hand.
Suika T is a woman, not just a name of a band. She is originally from Mexico City. For more than 20 years she has been a vocalist and multi-instrumentalist. Five band members bring the sound together with their guitar, percussion, conga, sax, and trumpet, as well as vocals.
They were great to listen to while visiting with friends Denise and Steve. Quite a bit louder than background music, but definitely providing a fun vibe as the sun dipped behind the mountains.
And the venue, well, being right on Lake Tahoe that’s hard to beat. Live at Lakeview’s last Thursday concert of the season is Aug. 28.
While adults are more interested on the men on the field to the right, kids have ample opportunities to play at Oracle Park with the mini park and big slide. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
This marks the San Francisco Giants’ 25th anniversary at their ballpark.
It’s hard to believe I’ve been in one of those seats all these years. I’m part of a season ticket group. Have been since I worked in The City and lived in the Bay Area.
All these years later and I refuse to give up those tickets; doesn’t matter where I live. There’s something about being at the ballpark. That’s the best way to enjoy baseball. Next best is listening to it on the radio. Yes, I’ll watch a game on TV on occasion, but for some reason it seems to move too slow on TV. But I never feel that way when I’m there in person.
At this rate it could be a while before the Giants are back in the World Series. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
I’ve been to four World Series games, several opening days, have eaten pounds of garlic fries, consumed a beer at most every game (except when it’s too dang cold at night), and have had several hot chocolates.
They wouldn’t let me ride the slide—something about being too old. Fourteen is the age limit. Whatever!
I’ve walked the entire outside, the entire inside on multiple levels. The views—simply outstanding. There really isn’t a bad seat in this ballpark.
That is one thing about a game on TV—being able see the views of the ballpark from a drone—absolutely stunning.
While the garlic fries have gone downhill since the opening of the ballpark, a cold beer is always welcome. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Being right on the San Francisco Bay makes the setting idyllic. The water, the kayakers in McCovey Cove, the Bay Bridge.
Sure, players have come and gone. Some left too soon, others overstayed their welcome. Same with managers.
I’m always optimistic at the start of the season. It’s a fresh slate. Hope and belief are at their highest. Sometimes it’s hard to be a Giants fan. But no matter if it’s a W or an L, being at that ballpark is a great day.
Mount Rushmore in South Dakota is on land stolen from the Sioux Indians. (Image: Kathryn Reed)
Mount Rushmore used to be a place I would highly recommend people visit when they were in South Dakota. I would emphasize going to the lighting ceremony.
I was back there in June during a family reunion with the expectation that would be my last visit.
I can no longer celebrate the desecration of sacred Indian land and the destruction of the environment.
The U.S. government with the Treaty of 1868 permanently promised the Sioux Indians land that included the Black Hills of South Dakota. Once gold was discovered a couple years later the treaty became worthless as the government allowed prospectors to run roughshod over the Sioux land.
Rushmore was constructed between 1927 and 1941—at a time when environmental laws were weaker and Native people had even less of a voice than they do today.
I doubt this sculpture of Presidents George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln will ever go away. It’s not like granite can be replanted.
I’d like to think nothing like it will be built again on sacred and public land. That would be a good thing.
I’m all for recognizing individuals for their contributions to society. It’s how we honor them that matters, as well as where. Who does the work matters as well. Gutzon Borglum, the sculptor behind Mount Rushmore, had white supremacist leanings.
Today, Rushmore is a national monument under the care of the National Park Service.
I wonder what it would become if we gave the land back to the Indians. Would they chisel away the faces? Would that be such a bad thing?
Mount Rushmore is a place I’ve been going to since I was a kid because my grandparents lived in Rapid City, my parents were high school sweethearts there, and this area is where so many of our family reunions are. But none of that means I need to keep visiting a place rooted in hate, lies and deception. Where we go, how we spend our time and money—it matters, it says and means something. Tradition is not a reason to continue this ritual of visiting Rushmore every time I’m in South Dakota. I’m done and would hope my family (and everyone else) would come to this same conclusion.
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