Life, Continued

My life continues to be divided along the very stark lines of working and not working.  Work is very intense. Deadlines loom and pass like thunderstorms, sometimes just threatening, sometimes providing relief, sometimes darkening, sometimes sharply illuminating. But the undercurrent is always gratitude, that I have lovely people to work with and that I'm employed. And hey, it's not like anyone dies or anything. I bring roses to work and stink up the joint with their perfume. I crack jokes with coworkers and I'd say smiles outnumber frowns 2-1, even my own. I go to the gym. Walk the dog. Listen to podcasts. 

And hey, there are weekend adventures, resetting the stress clock.

We took a long, foggy ride to Bolinas, a place I'd never been, which is crazy considering how long I've lived here. We rode through dripping pine and eucalyptus forests. We edged the Lagunitas reservoir and imagined how wonderful the vistas must be when they weren't gray-wooled with fog.

Low tide at Bolinas

Bolinas public shrine

The town of Bolinas itself is lovely, if remote and chilly and filled with hipster surfers, an almost inconceivable breed of humans. But even Bolinas is exclusively expensive these days. As we had lunch in an outdoor cafe, a golf cart pulled up to a parking spot on the street, a surfboard on top and two bulldogs riding shotgun. I'd like to go back on a sunny day, spend more time at the beach.

Last weekend we were in Chico, celebrating Mark's 55th and Sophia's 5th. 

Dad and Ginny came out from Texas. We went to Sierra Nevada for an early dinner, as per our tradition. It was graduation weekend for Chico, so lots of crowds, but we went at the perfect time.

In just about a month, M and I will celebrate 10 years of marital (mostly) bliss. Everyone was kind enough to stop by the Stansbury Home on the way back from dinner to pose for a portrait.

Same ol' view from the Motel 6

A brief but satisfying visit. Rex did not chase Mark and Glo's chickens, thank goodness. 

In other news:

The garden bed is coming along nicely. There's a lizard who, yes, I'm going to say it - lounges between the deck and the hay bales, soaking up the sun. He's the color of oak leaves and clay clods, the shape of the mulch, so I almost step on him every evening as I inspect the vegetables. I wish I could make him my pet, but he's probably pretty freaked out by my clomping. 

I also recently had a meet-up with the Pointy Pals, my writing group, and I have been challenged-slash-inspired to write a poem. It really has been too long! So I hope to have some poetry to share in the next couple of weeks.

M is working hard on the hotrod. I don't know if there's any kind of timeline to completion, but it's wonderful (mostly) hearing the clang and whine and rumble of power tools ripping it apart so we can put it back together again. And yes, I think I'll have a role to play, if a minor one.