these days of leiderhosen

Farberware no-sharpen knives. Pre-grooved and unsharpenable for my displeasure. Don't get me wrong: Farbarware's non-stick is brilliant and well priced enough to change it out every year. But, MAN, these knives are bad. Not just bad, but dangerous. I've use Ginsus better than these. A whole knife block full of crap. This is the last time I travel without my good knives.

It's been rainy stormy, gusty, bright and shining all within the last half hour. Splendid. We went North along the coves this morning looking for seals and saw the following: Three seals body surfing, one sunning. All seals are named Earl, BTW. Lots of deer (M, F and babies) Three wild turkeys (2 F and 1 M); all had these very strange grey feather tassles from their chests Countless other birds, including a raptor flying off with a rather large rodent in it's talons. I like the sandpipers the best (cue Benny Hill music). Tuesday was a great tidepooling day the motherload of celadon colored sea anemones, from very small to the size of a dinner plate. two glorious seaslugs that looks like outrageously beautiful christmas wrapping A few purple spiny sea urchins (The Steven had to be reminded that this is his least favorite sushi.) Starfish: orange and red and two purple a few crabs and a few other lovelies (this is from just one set of tidepools) In the evening our walk was south...

...and I really needed a cookie. The chocolate covered peppermint jojos have that effect. Merry Solstice, Everyone. (From here on, the days get longer.) I am so grateful to everyone who stops by, but especially you. Bless. The rain has started to beat in earnest again against the roof and it is so perfectly black out that I am going back to bed to enjoy both in sluggly comfort. So wonderful. Spun this week: moss, unknown green, blackthorn (in process), bruise, agean.

The Steven and I are holed up in the most exquisite little house; the top floor is almost entirely window, overlooking a shallow valley and southward down the coast. Horizon, mountain, cliffs and surf are all visible. The lower level is cave-like and cosy bedrooms with an enclosed patio surrounded by cypress. I've spent hours at the window spinning and watching seabirds cruise the updrafts. A huge herd of deer proinked through the yarn yesterday. At the moment, it is very stormy and last night I listened to the wind in the trees.

Thank you, Dear Reader, for the words of support. December sure can be a nipple-twister, just with all the expectations and self-induced pressure. I'm not the only one in need of an emotional defragmentation. I'd take all of you away from it if I could. I have fled the urban setting and will soon be in a place a where troubles can easily be forgotten, with a really bitchin' bathtub and a bottle of Oban. At the moment, the current locale has a fantastic mattress and I can hear the rain on the roof. (I am not off my meds, although the Wellbutrin chaser is making me call people "Darling". Gah!) Many thanks, Jen, for watching the pussycat. It is like bestowing one's 95 year old mum on someone responsible. Shred get cranky without people to sit on.

I fought with 'superiors' at work, due to living in a constant state of disappointment, overwork and borderline poverty. I fought at home with Barbara over a refusal to live in an unheated environment. I fought with some old codger in Berkeley Bowl who uses shoving as a form of communication. I miss my mom. I forgot my birthday was coming up. I'm tired, cold, and losing my grip. My reasons for being blue are awfully flimsy.

If the waiter asks red, white (Chardonnay, Savion Blanc) do not reply, " Yes !". If the office Politically Correct Shrew decides to visit your end of the table, rethink this opportunity to ignore her, stare off into the distance wistfully and polish off another glass of Chardonnay Merlot Blanc . Or not. If you proceed to thank all people who have not pissed you off this year in this state, they will think you have gone off the deep end. Do not get "handsy" with the gay friend as you both glad eye the marines at the next table. No food fights, even if tiramisu seems the mighty ultimate weapon. Wasting a prosciutto appetizer is heresy. Keep the interpretive dancing for the office with the doors closed.