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| Art is not stupid. |
I thought for a moment that the stupid finder's spin swirled around me, especially after I found my lost credit card in my wallet this morning, but no, the stupid finder found Trump world front and center. Our President, after ludicrously professing an imminent, non-existent vaccine to the Corona virus, and further professing that America is still "greatly" ready to face what Rush pronounced as a hoax disease about as dangerous as a common cold, just held a press conference in the cobweb filled briefing room in the White House to announce that Vice President Pence will head our country's task force against the virus. The stupid part is this: I can hardly wait (If this threat becomes pandemic) for Trump to say, "I barely know that Pence guy. I only met him once." That babble aside, I did my own stupid part when I found my credit card in my wallet. Simply stupid, just like panic always is. And as I predicted, my "pique" was exacerbated by cosmic forces. Eventually, I calmed down enough to enjoy a very nice day with two of my favorite women: my Bunny, and Liz. We began the day, pique free, at the French bakery in Morro, which was absolutely divine. We then drove up through the hardened oaks and twisted canyons to Paso Robles wine country to buy some wine. We luncheoned in a garden spot in Cayucos, and for dinner, we prepared a delicious home grown chicken salad, while sipping, of course, a cup or two of the fine Californian wine. Once again, life proved to be good, especially today.
Liz, adorned in her California poppy.
My Bunny framed with roses.
Sadly, despite the fine quiche and croissant egg sandwich, I suffered a skunking.
"Better luck tomorrow, Pop Pops."
Sarah, last summer, mastering the high pier jump.
French bakery goodies. I'll take one of everything.
I celebrated finding my credit card by buying a case of expensive wine.
Young Miss Emily, our reader.
Young Mr. Sawyer, our craftsman.
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