Star in the Middle

Recently I had the pleasure of writing a story about this here thread-bare WWI flag. A woman was moving and brought a load of papers to be shredded at shredder-ville. Shredder-ville isn't really the name, but we'll just call it that for fun.

The owner opened the box and to his surprise, found this relic. The funny part of the story though is what he shared about what gets brought in accidentally. Live snakes, mice, weapons, artillery, porn, money, toys... Good thing he is mindful as that snake wouldn't have fared to well. Well.

Spread

While out on a recent footfall through the scrumptious vineyards 'round these parts, I happened to snap this photo of a bird taking flight. What a pose.

A Fine Coupling

When I make my way to the lovely streets of faraway lands, these fine things will be smack dab in the middle of my suitcase... Clickety Clackity Clack.

Keep Pointy Things Away

Scared of heights? Hope not.








Blue hue. No boo hoo.

Travel to The Nard'

Oh thee Oxnard sitting oh so quietly along the Ventura County coastline just above Los Angeles. Having lived in California all my life, it puzzled me that I had not ever ventured to what a long lost friend who resides there refers to as 'The Nard'. I'll go with that.


The drive from my humble homestead was easy easy with not a pinch of shitty traffic. Blasted up there and landed safely, tumbled out of the car and into The Mandalay Beach Resort. Who knew such a prime piece of resort ass was right under the radar in Oxnard. I didn't. The front desk gentleman looked like he was a member of the band Weezer. Cool. Super helpful and un-snooty. Ocean breezy goodness wafted all around. Ahhhh.




Yes. Yes... Fish tacos du jour Oxnard Harborside. Super delicious. Tasty vittles.

Riding my bike... Well the bike I rented from the resort.

I teetered with my camera and quickly snapped this picture while rollin on down the alley... Silly gorgeous houses.






I am a sucker for arched hallways. Arch it.

Sandy toes. Salty hair. Pristine shoreline. Pure Heaven.

Some sort of regatta took place and I watched from the deck/balcony of my stellar room. There was at least 40 sailboats sailing along. Bobbing up and down. I give big props to sail-boatin' boaters... I guarantee a pukefest of grand proportions if I tried.

Oh yes. Yes I did.

Triangle.

Ahoy!

These Things Don't Suck!

Amongst the lands of Northern San Diego lies a beacon of goodness lovingly known as Stone Bistro and Gardens...oh, and a full scale brewery too. Amber lucious liquid ripe with hops and more hops along with ridiculous foods are ready to pounce on your taste-buds. Mine were totally pounced upon.





Duck tacos. Yes.

See this? See it! Smell it! Taste it! The spicey one was my fav.

Gulp.

Bridging Time.

To say that I have let this sweet little website go to almost shit is an almost truth. The whirlwind of the year I had last year tore me away from my bee-loved cyber situation, in a way I did not see coming. Many times I sat down diligently to update and sprinkle words, but the behemoth invisible computer lords yelled a giant Hell To The NO! My computer inexplicably shut down, shut off, shut me out, erased hours worth of updating, blah blah blahty blah.

Tapping the keg again, though.


My last days involved journey floated me up the Cali coast to Monterey with exquisite stops in Paso Robles, San Luis Obispo, Cayucos and a few points inbetwixt. I drank wine, devoured bombastic foods, revisited my Grandma Betty's home turf, made some new friends along the way and watered the seed in me thats been planted since I was a wee pain in the ass.



Sitting at Eberle winery as the sun was waving goody-bye. I stared out into the fields and rows and flows of vineyards dusk-dreaming of swimming in a vat of purple goodness.

One of my favorite drives meandering and rolling along Highway 46, dotted with enchanting wineries. Purple precious vats anyone?

Just arrived in Monterey here. I took this picture because intrigue sparked in me regarding this here funky regtangular window sans screen. As a young lass, I was told the story of this kind of window... I grappled to find the name of this window and everytime I looked at it I scanned my memory banks, but the word stayed in elusive-ville. Last day there as I was packing I rammed the shit out of my head on the corner...yes, look at that thick corner. Little birds flew around my cranium and the tears came. The name you ask? Widows Walk. Hmmmm, is it because women whose husbands were at sea stared longingly out to vast ocean waiting and hoping for thier seafaring husbands to return OR is it named for the widows peak on your forehead that you are sure to smash into the corner whilst moving about?

Ah, yes, magic. Sun peppered, fog stroked and relaxing. Framed by wise trees.

In Carmel-by-the-Sea there resides a splendid cheese shop that just about tore my shoes off. Seriously, I almost ripped my cute ass shoes off in a fit of joy. Cheese people. Lactose intolerant you say? Suck it up and eat some cheese.

Little brown jug, don't I love thee......Oh, you too bread rind filled with creamy goodness.

Martine Inn. Slices and slices of heaven wrapped up in a majestic bed and breakfast.

Stick me in a library-one with a piano and chaise lounges at that-and call it a done done done day. Glowy.

Monterey Bay. Cool, grey and teeming with sealife...sharks? Not a toe in that water. Not even a pinkie.

This has nothing to do with Monterey, I just like the picture.