Of a Benicia Tuesday I tried a new masseuse, no way equal to Desireé, as we awaited

the purported “bomb cyclone” but were disappointingly only drizzled on

[further north was a whole other story]

albeit there was plenty windiness until

Friday when it finally dumped…an interior day spent

trying oh trying not to stress too much over the promised retribution revolution 

and heading towards the ‘holly daze’.  Saturday an immense morning squall quickly cleared,

Linda was back into drawing after a long hiatus and Sunday Bryan [not shown] came over for a

birthday dinner of overly complicated extremely rich food [also not shown] at Bella Siena

prior to the Misty Monday wherein I ran wetly about seeking but finding neither metric carriage

bolts nor acrylic enamels nonetheless navigated some insanely stupid parking lot traffic in the local shopping centers…this was all followed by a most pleasant visit from our all too seldom

seen friend Enrico who came bearing Mountain Mandarins from the Sierra foothills, a fine Ridge zinfandel and the book he’d just done for his mother-in-law for which Linda happily exchanged for a signed copy of her Omaha catalog as dogs looked on…

Doggedly onwards…determined.