A View From My Rooftop


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It has a really nice vibe and a good mix of people. And if you are looking for dinner, their restaurant on the ground floor has a great, creative menu. This restaurant and bar in Little Italy is a popular place for a night of dressing up in Little Italy. Both their ground floor and their rooftop bar are stylishly decorated and create a great vibe. On weekends it can get very crowded. Little Italy is one of my favorite parts of San Diego to go for dinner and Kettner Exchange is a great place for that after dinner drink, or two.

If you plan to go to Kettner Exchange with a group you can reserve a cabana, and they offer bottle service. Born and Raised is a similarly high-end restaurant with a rooftop patio. It just has a slightly more classical feel to it. Most rooftop bars in San Diego are located in the Gaslamp Quarter or in Little Italy so if you are looking for rooftop bars in other parts of the city your choices are a bit limited. But, El Prez is a good option outside of the downtown area.

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El Prez is located in Pacific Beach, just a block from the beach. They offer good Mexican food and their drinks are cheaper than at the other rooftop bars. The vibe in the restaurant is very different from the vibe on the roof. During the week the atmosphere at the rooftop bar has a bit of a lounge bar feeling. On weekends it can get very crowded and adopts more of a lively, nightlife feeling. Because Cannonball is located on the Mission Beach Boardwalk, right by the beach, it gives you a perfect view of what most of us think of when we picture Southern California: a long, sandy beach and a boardwalk filled with good-looking people walking, cycling and skating past.

Whether you just finished a walk along the boardwalk, need a break from the beach or are looking for a more romantic evening out enjoying some good quality sushi, Cannonball is suitable for all of it. Being located by the beach makes it more casual than most other rooftop bars listed here. But at the same time it still feels stylish and is a favorite restaurant option of mine. Sitting on the rooftop deck of this 3 story building, looking out towards the ocean, you have found yourself the perfect spot to watch the sunset.

Ocean Beach Brewery has a great selection of beers, a few nice appetizers to share and simple dinner options. Out of all of the 10 San Diego rooftop bars listed here, Ocean Beach Brewery is probably the most casual one. Like this article about 10 of the best rooftop bars in San Diego? Pin it! Great to see it made your list! The cocktails were superb, and both my bank account and my taste buds appreciated the food specials during happy hour. Notify me of follow-up comments by email.

An inside view of Hong Kong’s hidden rooftop farms

Notify me of new posts by email. But yet, there is a bell in the bell tower, and it looks pretty darn old. My son, curious, opted to climb up in the tower and see it for himself. While up there, he realigned the pull rope and replaced a pulley, so that the bell can now be rung. Word-of-mouth lore tells two conflicting stories of the origin of the bell.

One version comes from an elderly gentleman who says that his elders said that the bell came from a ferry ship on the nearby Delaware River. But another gentleman, now 94 years old, tells a different tale. He also happened to be an employee of the Pennsylvania Railroad. And that church secretary told his children that the bell came from the locomotive engine of a Pennsylvania Railroad train. But there is one thing we know. In early , the church on the corner was just a daydream in the minds of a few gritty men and women. But daydreams became reality when people were motivated and ready to work hard and to improvise.

So take a look at the bell, or better yet, come visit and ask them to ring it for you. What do you think? Because tall tales aside, I am sure the true story of the bell was inspiring when those neighbors brought that bell from somewhere, to the little corner church. This week, the United Methodist Church made a loud and clear statement. After a contentious vote at a special conference in St.

Unlike the Catholic Conclave, where cardinals are sequestered in St. So we saw first hand how heated and emotional the debate was over this matter, and I felt proud of the many strongly spoken leaders that argued for equal rights and inclusion for all. The plan allows LGBTQ parishioners to attend and participate in the church, but puts on the brakes if those individuals ask for the same opportunities as other members and if those individuals are called to the ministry or desire the holy rite of Christian marriage.

Discriminatory policy against individual groups has a long history in our country. In the past, groups have been told:. But our country has made great strides, and while racism, misogyny, and homophobia still exist, we have passed nondiscrimination laws that prevent small minded people from making their small minded ideas into policy. But the church is held to a different standard. So instead of breaking down barriers and spreading the love of Christ, the United Methodist Church is building a wall, and reminding us, in spite of all the strides we have made in moving toward a kinder, more inclusive world, that they support institutionalized discrimination and prejudice.

If the UMC was not protected as a church, their policies would be illegal. Jesus preached inclusion and ministered to marginalized groups. The conservatives in the church, however, are fond of quoting a few particular lines of scripture, about human sexuality, to support their view that Jesus would be on board with their policies.

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Large factions of the church have pushed back against the ruling and have argued that they will continue to act based on what they know is right and what they see as true Christian behavior, rather than by biased and harmful church law. It remains to be seen whether this ruling will splinter and split the church and if the UMC will emerge from this whole, or in pieces.

During our staff meeting, nurse practitioner Karen reviewed a twelve week plan to prepare our homes for weather emergencies and natural disasters. The two-paged brochure advised stockpiling canned goods and communicating a clear plan to family about what to do and where to go in the event of crisis. The brochure also suggested a simple home fire drill.

It was and Jake was an oh-so-cute 8 year-old Cub Scout. His Wolf Pack was learning about household safety and he had carefully drawn an accurate map of our house and had mapped out several evacuation routes. People had seen that fox in the recesses of their backyards, or from the corners of their eyes as they drove down tree-lined streets. In my tiny neighborhood, many people had thought they had seen the renegade fox, but no one was quite sure. Of course, since then, wildlife has, in fact, encroached on our West Deptford suburbia.

As natural habitats have been destroyed, we now have wild turkeys in the woods near the highway, and turkey vultures sometimes sun themselves on our roofs. We have owls and bald eagles and have seen an explosion in the deer population. To avoid hitting a deer while driving, both automobile and golf cart operators need to be mindful, since deer are regularly seen along our streets and all around our golf course. But twelve years ago, aside from squirrels, chipmunks, and an occasional raccoon, we never saw wildlife near our homes.

So the kids, having heard talk in school, asked us if they should be worried. We assured them that we live in a non-wooded area, and we told them, and believed, that a wild fox would have no reason to stroll around our lawns and that surely, all this scuttlebutt would turn out to be gossip and nothing more. So on the night of the fire drill, Joe and I were ready. At the designated time, I would yell out that we had a kitchen fire. Joe would run into the kitchen to feign assistance and would immediately call for evacuation. I smiled as I heard the front door slam closed, knowing that our boys and Joe would be running toward the corner gathering place.

When I hustled out the back door, though, which was my nearest exit, it was surprisingly dark. I silently cursed myself for not turning on the outdoor lights before evacuating. Stepping into the dark space, I encountered a pair of eyes. At first, my confused brain thought that young Jake might be in the backyard with me somehow. My heart rate increased as I realized the eyes were not those of a small child, but of an animal. The small glowing eyes seemed to move closer to me just as my own eyes adjusted to the darkness and I began to make out a shape.

Son of a gun, the rumors were real! I reached the gate to my backyard fence, and tried clumsily to work the latch. Of course, it was stuck. I continued to fumble with the latch. It was the longest half block I have ever traversed. In my mind, I fully expected that the fox was right behind me, ready to bite at my heels.

When I finally caught up with my family, bending over to catch my breath, I excitedly told them about the fox. Over the next week, accounts of the fox started to wane. I did a quick inventory of the non-perishables in our cabinets and made a plan to purchase bottled water this week. But what about a family fire drill? Last year, our town was abuzz again, but this time, with rumors of a roaming coyote, posing a threat to vegetable gardens and all unattended kitties, Chihuahuas, and Teacup Yorkies.

Given that urban sprawl continues to displace wildlife, I guess I should do some research on encounters with foxes, coyotes, and just in case, bears! And moving forward, all of our family fire drills will take place ONLY during the bright light of day!! We formed a quick circle around her, in just a few seconds, and each of us pushed two balled up, and dirty fists into the center. It was in New Jersey. The kids from Muhlenberg Avenue were doing what they did most evenings, at least until the street lights went on……they were playing.

She kept her other fist in the circle, but looked worried. The rest of us stood a little taller and held our own potatoes out with a bit more confidence as the elimination continued. Back in the 70s, young folk knew how to get things done. A large group of kids was able to organize very quickly and could settle on which game to play by simply calling out their preferences.

When deciding which kickball or stickball team got to head up to bat first, we would have our captains shoot for odds or evens. Kinder versions involved a best of five or seven, but when twilight was looming and daylight was short, things were finalized on one shoot only. Times are different now and it seems that parents prefer their children stick to structured, and well supervised, activities, rather than the child-run playtime of my youth.

These days, you rarely see groups of kids playing together outside, at least in my neighborhood, and I actually know an elderly fellow who was so surprised by the sight of a group of kids gathering on his corner, that he panicked and called the police. But thankfully, it was just a group of middle schoolers trying to organize a game of wiffle ball, and not the beginning of The Purge.

Michelle Obama has made it clear that outside playtime equals health and fitness, and it is true that there were many fewer overweight kids back in those days. But aside from health benefits, free play also taught us life skills, skills that I continue to use, both in my personal and my professional adult life. Because we wanted to spend our precious time playing, we learned to organize ourselves and to agree upon rules for our games, both quickly.

We learned to collaborate and negotiate, and to compromise, since each of us did not always get what we wanted. If we wanted a voice at the table, though, we learned to make our individual voices heard in a crowd. It was down to only two kids now. What color blood came out? Boy oh boy, those were different times. But there we all were, not just having unsupervised play time and planning a game that would be played partly in the street, but we were also imagining a clothesline brawl between out mothers!

This time, the pounding fist came down on me, and I reluctantly tucked my second potato fist behind my back and was out.

Kid-organized play time taught us teamwork, communication, leadership, and resiliency. Looking back, I am amazed at what a group of scrappy kids could accomplish. If only all of my adult work groups could get things done as efficiently and effectively as my childhood neighbors! On that day, a few years ago, the Sunday School kids each were each looking down at a piece of watercolor paper. They each had a supply of pastels and crayons and watercolor paints at their ready and a plastic cup of water for rinsing their brushes.

I had expected this to be the best Sunday School class ever! Kids love art projects, right? When I was a kid, my art supplies were my toys. I played around with crayons and paints and clay and charcoal in relaxed, creative playtime. Family members offered occasional guidance and loose instruction, but mostly encouraged exploration and fun.

I was excited to share the technique of crayon resistance paintings using watercolors. I spent a minute explaining how it worked. With resistance painting, you draw with a wax crayon or a pastel, and then you paint right on top of your drawing. The background will soak up the paint, but your drawing will be unchanged and will shine right through.

I looked around expecting hands to be grabbing at crayons, eager to start. Instead, every hand was beneath the table….

CRAZIEST ROOFTOP VIEW IN LA

So I gave them some ideas….. I told the kids that they could draw flowers and then paint on the green meadow, or they could draw and color in clouds and then add a blue sky. Looking around, I noticed that all of their small hands were still tucked neatly under the table.

I wondered if this could be a symptom of the times…. A generation ago, a kid who wanted to stay entertained needed to exert effort. Back then, kids had to look around for activities to keep busy and often had to step outside of their comfort zone and be challenged. I was pushed outside of my comfort zone again and again when the alternative was boredom.

view from my rooftop terrace - Picture of Peacock Pavilions, Marrakech

I drew, I painted, I learned to crochet, I played jail break, I learned to double dutch, I played box ball, I played lawn darts, and I made houses from playing cards. But keeping a child engaged and occupied these days is easier than it was back then. In my youth, a parent kept a restless or cranky child quiet in a busy restaurant with paper and crayons, legos or playdoh.

But nowadays, even the youngest child is simply handed a cell phone and is instantly quieted. Fortunately, we got through the crayon resistance project. Moving forward, I would like to see Sunday School classes that includes more art projects. I would like to see elementary school art classes encourage free expression. I would like decoupage, paper mache, pastels, and water color to be common childhood activities. And I would like small children that are bored to be handed a crayon instead of a cell phone. The boy, about 10, was clearly excited.

My husband and I, and our son Jake, were vacationing in DC and we were taking in the most popular sites. The Air and Space Museum is chock full of the stuff that dreams are made of. Actual airplanes, missiles, rockets, and space shuttles hang from the ceiling or are installed so you can peek, or even step inside them. A piece of Moon rock is right there to touch. The walls are lined with stories of the innovative and the brave, with names like Wright and Lindbergh, Earhart and Hughes, Armstrong, Yeager, Ride, and Musgrave. The museum inspires us that regular people can do incredible and amazing things!

I could hear the awe in his young voice and I watched as he lifted his head, and eyes, to take in all that was before us. The dad put a punch on the word genius that made it sound fantastical or mythological. I watched from behind as the the boy exhaled and his shoulders fell. He continued to move through the exhibit, but without that pep in his step. If I could have a do over, I would talk to the boy, and tell him that the road to space can have many different paths.

To get to space, the boy will need to work hard, of course. He will need to apply himself in school and take rigorous classes. The displays talked about inflatable habitats and years and years in space, plus the challenges of surviving an environment with no accessible water, no fuel, no oxygen, and almost no atmosphere. Jake spoke up, unsolicited. I looked at my 19 year old son in disbelief, as we stood next to an exhibit about dust devils on the surface of Mars.

Dust devils are small tornadoes, made of dust and debris, and on the inhospitable planet, they are everywhere! I realized then, that while raising Jake, Joe and I had managed to give our son exactly what that other parent had quickly denied to his: a belief in his own ability and a belief in the amazing possibilities of this world, and others. So Jake will continue to dream big and his dreams will be shaped, as they should be, by his view of this world and not by mine. If it turns out that space travel is in his future, I will fake a smile and encourage him.

I will keep to myself that when I told him, as a child, to reach for the stars, I meant it figuratively, and not literally. So please encourage the young people in your life to dream big too. So please visit me, friends, right here on Earth, after my family leaves me to move to Mars! In New Jersey, things may not be perfect, but so far, at least there are no dust devils! We are made by history.

a view from my rooftop Manual

Due to recent changes in leadership at my ninety six year old church, things are being tidied, cleaned out, and cleared out. The closets and filing cabinets have been emptied and I have been told that the mother church sees no reason for us to hold on to old books or hymnals, or paperwork and records, including meeting minutes.

By then, the builders of the church had been meeting in each others homes for quite awhile, reading from the Bible, singing from borrowed hymnals. In , the Colonial Land Company had bought up the Shivers Farm, and subdivided the fields into lots. They advertised in the area newspapers, not just advertising lots for sale, but advertising a neighborhood, a community, a way of life. In the years after WWI, families came and built, with some buying kit houses from the Sears Roebuck, Aladdin, or Montgomery Ward catalogs and watching as the house parts came via rail car and were delivered to the train stop in North Woodbury.

Others relied on local construction companies, like Rose and Budd Builders, to design and build their dream homes. The young families in the new Colonial Manor wanted a community and worked together to build one.


  • Morning view from my rooftop bed - Picture of Citadel Youth Hostel, Jerusalem!
  • view from my rooftop «.
  • Skyscraper view from my seat at Kartel rooftop. - Picture of Kartel Wine Bar, Shanghai.
  • Check out the beautiful city from above with a cocktail in hand!.
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