As the solar year wound down a 1930s Hubley Tatra/Cadillac mashup appeared from far off Pennsylvannia along with First Street suggestions I don’t plan to act on though did
continue sneaking little treasures onto downtown window ledges
as the chilling fog continued.
They kept saying we were supposed to get rain and warming in the here and the now
but though it did become warmer, well, warmish, the rain held off.
The late William Crosby, above, demonstrating the pop-up camper on his Landcruiser, Spreckels Lake SF, 1973 [from a random dip into the slide library] as The Moisture, such as it was,
skipped over us to the east, creating wintry havoc on the hill. After dinner guests Thursday we
went across the street in a barely perceptible mist the next night for green vegetable curry with
tofu followed by a Strange Dessert…Saturday the weather was much the same and despite
the blown radiator the little truck got me to Beau’s and back for a Last Massage of 2025.
The last day before the longest night [or is it the other way around?] after a misty morning walk
I took it to Safeway [not shown] and while out on the bike after lunch met the owner
of this fine ‘70 tChevy who said he worked on “old stuff” so will maybe be the guy for the radiator next year or, um, maybe not; there’s nothing about him or his business on the internet and the office address he gave me was an abandoned bar in Vallejo…nice truck, though.
Taking advantage of the endlessly postponed deluge I continued on in mild winds
to a solstice pizza party with hopes that this year’s return of the light will inspire a return
to some vestiges of sanity out there in the America but oh well…highly unlikely.
Safer now we definitely do not feel.
























We are wet but warm down south here in Monterey. I am sending you both warm wishes and hope that helps. I love your distributions, including soldiers. Flashing through my creaky memory are little plastic babies back in Palo Alto. Hope you feel some holiday spirit in spite of the disaster that is the Mad King…gilded.
I’d forgotten the plastic babies! A long history…and we are warm, wet and looking out across the muddy Smoke Creek Desert for Christmas, most merrily. Well, quietly merrily…