So it has been a few weeks before I posted this. Life has been normally frenetic (frenetically normal). P.S. I miss you all!
The blissful company of loving friends. (This alone is worth everything else and more.)
Long, lively conversations with wild turkeys in the Sonoma hills. (Note to R: None went by the name of Kenneth, thank G-d.)
W’s brilliant exhibit “Waiting for Van Gogh.” (The luster and poise of W’s prose are beyond compare.)
The best company and almost-as-good-as-Italy spaghetti alla napoletana at Marin Joe’s.
Decorating Marin Joe’s piano bar with putti and filastrocche and clouds of lavender petals; having the pianist greet K with “That’s Amore.”
Playing catch with Lobo and L at Crissy Field, with the Golden Gate Bridge vibrating against a cerulean sky.
Riots of wildflowers—magenta, fireball orange, canary yellow, velvety purple, snowy white—plus clumps of California poppies along the freeway.
Sharing duties of command, control, surveillance, and reconnaissance with K and A at the mothership.
Gratin de pommes de terre, asparagus in brown butter, perfect baby zucchine, crumble aux pommes, and “Laugh-In” with W. (Does it get any better?)
Hunan’s bean sprout salad, crunchy chill chased by heat, my favorite thing to eat in the world.
Sacramento’s fabulous MANLOVE Road (to be uttered in the booming tones of one who has ten testicles).
An Episcopal church built of powder-blue cinderblocks, somewhere in the Sacramento Valley. (W whispers, aghast: “They must be very Low Church.”)
Trolling antique shops and finding the perfect radioactive-cornucopia salt and pepper shakers.
The sun glittering on the murky waters off Pier 7.
In pyjamas, eating See’s Chocolates and plotting world domination with K and A. (I got a Bordeaux, woo-woo!)
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