Hank

Last night my brother came to visit and rescue me from my traumatized state. During the night the neighbor sideswiped his car parked on sour narrow street and left a note on the windshield. Seemed to be a good time to load up the dog and our stuff and head for Sonoma County.

W stopped by our favorite bakery and got some wood oven baked pumpkin seed bread which made lovely sandwiches with the leftover chicken from last night and the chili jam which we buy in vast quantities from a vegetable stand in Santa Rosa. Lunch over, we left Ozzie on the couch and got to the Santa Rosa house in time for the septic system and well inspections. Since anything said about either of those subjects is T.M.I. for me, I wandered around the house looking in closets and drawers.

During a lull in the proceedings I walked up the street with Cindy, our SR realtor to her house On the way I met one of the neighbors who has already invited us to a party at his house on Sunday. At her house I met her Basset hound, Hank,quite a winsome fellow.

Back at the new house, we found OilMan and my brother sitting on two chairs on the front lawn surveying the comings and goings on the country road below. A chilly Berkeley morning had given way to a warm sunny afternoon and we realized how many wonderful places there are to sit and watch the world go by at this house.

My apologies to those of you who are going comment less as we wend our way through this thicket. I will be back to you soon. And many thanks for the stars for the watery rose. I do really appreciate your comments.