I had plans
for this post. I even have pictures to post, and vague notions of their captions, too. But taking BART this evening from SF out to meet my wife halfway to the hills, then drive the dogs out into the hills to Club K9 (where they will spend the long weekend), then drive back to a meeting at City Hall about the future of the wildlife refuge out at Alameda Point, and getting home hungry at 9 PM to pack and eat (caesar salad in my luggage, a belt of beer in me) has thrown a monkeywrench in my plans. A spanner in the works. A whole bunch of monkeywrenches and spanners, like the flying simian army of Oz’s wicked witch, all bedeviling my departure.
We rise at 5 AM to catch our morning flight; my first time home to the land of lakes in almost four years. We hope for maples of red and yellow, that tang of smokey autumn air, fair weather, and good times with family and friends. So I’ll make this quick.
Stay cool, and I’ll see you next week.
p.s. I went with Ernie and Edie in to the kennels. The dogkeepers were busy (lots of dogs to feed and get ready to bed down) and they attached my pups to short leads as they showed me where they will sleep. Both strained to me as I left, borderline frantic. It was hard, way too, and I’m already looking forward to coming back and getting them. Is that moronic, or what?
Totally moronic.
I loved your post description tying into the visual of the monkey army,… throwing thing. Somehow they hafta be throwing things.
hope yer having a good trip…
That sounds like my plans for the near future. Eighteen people for supper last night. The kitchen is nearly cleaned up now.
Your line about smoky autumn air made me remember Sunday afternoons and walks among the maples. I was almost nostalgic for Canada. Almost.
I haven’t seen my dog for 2.5 years and often think about our next meeting.
Am., you know, we had a very good trip. And Az., tied for best with numerous other moments of the trip was seeing the dogs come out of the barn where they keep the kennels. I think it caught poor Ernie by surprise. The doghandlers were shepherding them into our truck as we said hello and I said, ‘let’s go for a ride! (’ride’ being among the best words in the world, nearly as good as ‘walk.’
We were driving away I think before it fully registered, and then he began this funny sort of whiny greeting from the backseat — as if ‘I didn’t have a chance to whine from a distance in eagerness to run up and greet you, so I’m making up for it now.’
Stevo, Those maples, and Canada, will always be there for you. Unless the global warming thaws it all out, first. * smile *
Bongo: Eighteen! Egads! If we had 18 people over, we’d have to separate them into different rooms.
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