but once out in California the first thing to do is always head for a hit of Avocado Toast, right?

Greenness one way or the other, strangely, as

curious fogs haunted the straits but even after months away the ’45 fired right up

and despite icy winds [reminiscent of March though March ain’t arrived] lunch and work

proceeded outside while dogs

tried to realign their roles without meadows to tear around in.

Down along the coast the Exoneration of the President is accomplished as planned

[how could it not when Congressional lackey Mitch the Bitch allows no evidence that might tempt some Repuppetlican to break ranks and vote his or her conscience [in the unlikely event that such a thing still exists on that side of the aisle]] and to make that abomination

to the nation less of a distraction the denouement is timed to coincide with Stupor Bowl Sunday…the outcome of which, interspersed with Victorious Donald prancing out from the gilded arches of Deface the Lake to preemptively declare the Democrats everything that he and his ratshit party so demonstrably are [but, having been told so, the base believers will henceforth believe as God’s Own Truth] and halftime ads for another season of “Survivor”

[a “reality’ show, right?] wherein the top contender proclaims loudly and proudly she’ll do anything including, as in the past, blatantly cheat to get that million bucks…well, it’s all the same package.  Folks. The only tiny part of the game I saw was when two guys jumped up simultaneously trying and failing to snag the ball in the end zone and then KC was awarded ten yards, suddenly began scoring and won in the last six minutes…hmmm.  “It’s rigged, folks”, the one true thing our Fuckwit-in-Chief ever said. “Politics”, “football”, “Survivor”; we’re all All Americans

here, and these are our Values.  Is it any wonder a whole lot of the world thinks we’re Assholes?

Is it any wonder, that being true, a great number of us don’t give a shit that they do?

Oh well, the grass keeps greening, as ever making me uneasy this early, and guys show up

on the jetty to show off a ’58 Corvette resto-rod [the tires and the stance gave it away**,

but pretty sweet if you’re into those sorts of things…]

The wind blew chill, the hills grew green and though it was hard to see what

had been accomplished since coming over the hill from Reno it was already time to do it again.

 

 

*ok it’s not exactly Spring yet but already the scene is mild [when icy winds aren’t roaring through] and grasses sweetly greening…all of which has always made me inexplicably uneasy as long as I can remember…

**not to mention the sound of the 383 stroker, but we don’t do audio here.