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.
Chiming in with your Uneasiness… it’s a perpetual torture to feel the effects of their fiendish plans.
The ’45 is beaut.
Understanding your unease with the greening grass: we’re having a balmy early Spring in January and February. the snow drops are in bloom (I thought it would just be here and there, but no, they are in bloom, and the daffodils and German iris have 2 to 3 inches of green shoots poking through. We’ve seen snow only once, melted by noon the next day. It’s definitely the season for unease. The next time you take the crew to the hills the dogs will be wagging their tails the entire trip. I also noted that you have better avocado toast than we do.
Avocado toasts being a California clichė, of course we do…and being stuck out there on the edge of the Atlantic of course you’d be at the leading edge of the Warming, no?
Always loved that airplane collection. Our house is on the flight pattern for the Monterey Airport. While that may not seem too interesting as far as regular flights go, Monterey is super nostalgic and so we get all kinds of vintage and military planes flying over…even ones with propellers.