I was awake in the middle of the night and listened to the welcome sound of rain on the windows and in the downspouts. There was a gentle rain in the morning, off and on, while I scrubbed down the interior of the fence in preparation for staining. I also trimmed the fringe flower to keep it from sprawling. The trimmings went to the goats who tucked in immediately.
The day warmed up and was bright and sunny. Karl called from Boston to report severe cold and wind, with snow drifted over the top of the car in his driveway. Brought to mind my long past days of shoveling snow onto the lawn, and then onto the driveway to help it melt.
MJ and I went into Sutter Creek to celebrate Mike Jones’s 70th birthday. He could not say too many times that friendship was the best gift any of us could give him.
Highway 88 climbs a hill just past the cemetery. MJ told me that whatever fog there is in the valley, most times the crest of the hill is clear. East from that crest is a panoramic view of the Sierras. Coming the other direction I check to see if Mount Diablo is visible.
A Year at the Snake 