I’m realizing, as the combined GVW continues to increase and the cones, now into their second week, become ever more effectively weaponized, that we’ve never had dogs so doglike – aggressively affectionate, dogging one’s every step [with a cone or two bonking the back of one’s leg at every step navigation becomes problematic], so…doglike.

So it was with some trepidation that we abandoned their Coney Selves for a night celebrating a dear friend’s 70th birthday in Oakland, a memorable evening made even more so by the hilarious faux-Herzog ‘film’ put together by her two amazing children…[not shown]

But, back to Benicia, back to the dogs; our previous generations of herders were wilder but all by nature essentially stand-offish…these two will take some getting used to, especially as to

Size.    Meanwhile, just to keep  things appropriately Californiapocalyptic, we experienced a 4.5

Monday night earthquake centered in-not-so distant Pleasant Hill which expressed itself as a brief but angry shudder, not particularly pleasant but resulting in no apparent damage save

that my glasses were flung ten feet down the hall and all the next day we were discovering randomly tipped-over pottery in the library along with a strange dusting of calcified tar on the shelves in the front from…where?  Continuing the theme Tuesday afternoon’s outdoor

activities had to be cancelled after a “shelter in place” order

was implemented due to a refinery fire upwind between Crockett and Rodeo.

Sheltering in our candlelit dinner was punctuated by an aftershock which felt very much as if a very large truck had smashed into the building, just once.  The end times are the fun times – they’ll keep not only us but the companion animals alert.  Or on alert.

Bonk, bonk…and no fountain until the wounds are healed

[Bonk, bonk.]

and the winds die down…or somethin’.

The winds serve, anyway, to keep the toxins at bay so the fishermen overrunning the jetty can safely continue to appropriate the already congested area around the restrooms with assorted imported home furnishings, rendering cycling onto the pier problematic but

striper season can’t last forever. Or can it?

Another Saturday, another trip to Jack London Square, this time for the Artists’ Legacy Foundation’s Award Reception, which happens every year around this time.

We saw old friends, most of whom weren’t seen the previous week*, heard testimonials, ate hors d’oeuvres and returned home for steak fajitas from our neighbors at Elviarita’s.  

Sunday morning bonked around the waterfront and breakfasted in the yard…still warm enough for that, if you get up late enough.

 

* George, the one person whom we’d seen at the birthday, explained that his wife would have attended except she’d driven to Reno with her mother and dad to hear a piece by her brother performed by his wife Helen in a guest appearance with the RCO [anyone interested in grand-daughter Agnes’ CV should contact Deb]. It’s a little insane but I couldn’t resist just linking all those absolutely extraordinary people together this once…and linked they are, inextricably.