The Last of the Leaves

We took the equestrian trail around Spring Lake this morning in order to keep Ozzie out of the lake, which is very low and very green. He seemed quite happy to trot around the rocky path through the oaks carrying his stick. It was quite wintry and cold this morning, and only a few leaves still cling to the trees, allowing a peek through the gnarly branches to the chaparral and dried grasses beyond. A breeze moved across the lake, barely perceptible, save for the ripples disturbing the reflections in the lake,

We needed our gloves, which we didn't think to take with us, so we repaired to one of the many coffee places in this town for a hot drink to warm our hands and our insides.

While OilMan obsessed over the latest iteration of our bathroom plans, I butchered pruned the oleanders which I don't like much and which have grown up so quickly since I pruned them last that they engulf the metal stars we put on the fence behind them. I loved this large collection of weathered stars in many sizes and colors, which we put up on the side of the barn in Sebastopol. We left a lot of them there and have scattered the rest around here. Someday we'll take out the oleanders altogether (another toxic plant in the euphorbia family), but they are large and well established, and it will require a major effort on somebody's part to get them out and replace them with something more to our liking.

Tonight we go to the beautiful Weill Hall at the Green Center at Sonoma State University to hear Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt. We haven't been back to the Green Center since we wore our casual clothes and gardening shoes to what turned out to be the grand opening night, where we were seated on the stage behind Lang Lang with the high rollers and glitterati--all in evening dress. Despite feeling like the country mice in the city, we enjoyed the evening immensely, and look forward to returning. Our gardening shoes would probably be perfectly appropriate tonight, but I think we can do better....