There are times – usually twelve to eighteen hours out of the day – when I just want the hell out of California. Because – lack of snow and gorgeous weather notwithstanding - living here means spending an inordinate amount of time around people who are so busy clapping themselves on the back for being open-minded that they have failed to recognize Gavin Newsom for the self-aggrandizing douche bag that he is. Or who rail against wealthy people and large corporations even as they simultaneously covet the goods proffered by both.
Then there are times when the benefits of living here come very, very, very close to eclipsing the myopic din of blood oaths against capitalism.
Yes, I’m talking about the benefits of living in wine country, where you can almost get drunk enough to make hippies tolerable. Yes, I have photos. Yes, I am hard up for material for a post.
Wall with grapevines trailing up it.
Prickly pear and nopales cactus.
Winery door.
Mission San Francisco Solano.
Holy water font at Mission San Francisco Solano.
Limantour beach.
Running on the beach.