as well as the bigger disruptions do definitely add up over time; in the spirit of our esteemed MAGA-fucked congress the last three weeks certainly count as some of my least productive ever…I barely remembered to even look at the paintings, let alone actually do any. And I’m not even subject to Russian [or Trumpian] interference…just little inefficiencies, adding up.

However on a second trip to Kaiser Monday I did get shot* in both feet, a move which actually

seemed to alleviate decades of sorefootedness.  If so, milagro.  That night the kids dragged in

from another round of Frontier Abuse**, stayed up just long enough for Thai takeout and were gone before dawn; it took another 12 hours of air travel to finally get home. Meanwhile, Linda’s lack of mobility persisting, I was walking the inkies sequentially and missing the morning

waters though some breezy afternoons still made it down there on the bike, oft returning

to read, between late March rains, in the almost-temperate-by-now yard…

maritime traffic and/or

iridescent Teslas in evidence in the rain in,

as they are fond of saying, Benicia in Bloom, ka-boom.

Meanwhile,

apropos the plot to hold Joe Biden personally responsible for oil prices as well as to collect outrageous profits, Big Oil pushed the price of a gallon up fifty cents seemingly overnight.

That would never happen if we just had a Strong Successful Business Person with a personal line to Jesus Christ in charge of the country, right?  I asked Cosmos, but even he wasn’t sure…

Yardtime, springtime, life going on…

April the Fool’s Day Sumi and I made it as far down as F Street and the water

before breakfast out,

a little bit of afternoon studio

and then Linda’s PT [while “A Stranger Quest” premiered at Stanford without me], home

to a wonderfully mild evening waiting for brauts to brown until I noticed the LP had run out…

Tuesday we made the perambulation around E Street we’d been missing since Luz left

and whiled away a part of a warm afternoon listening to a Bill Finnegan interview, finishing

things off with Sicilian wine in a glass from Murano and street tacos from Nani’s next door.

 

*cortisone

**”friends don’t let friends…”etc.