sort of an apology

So, I realized I haven't said so much lately, and this is not helped by the fact that I've discovered "private" security settings for the kind of thing that really doesn't interest anybody else and might embarrass me.

I guess I don't have much more to say about it than that.

You folks from inclement places with killing winters will not be impressed, but we're really wet here right now. Boulder Creek outdid itself last weekend: almost ten inches (25 cm). Beachfront campgrounds were evacuated, but not, apparently, Capitola Village, which has taken major damage in recent years. All they got at the Capitola Venetian was sandbags. I used to go to the Capitola Venetian when I was a little girl: my granbdmother would bring me and my brother so as to get us out of my mother's hair, since she was sort of overwhelmed by everything. Ladt time we went we came back early because I had the mumps. And then my grandmother died -- with her boots on, as she used to say. One of my earliest memories is digging in the sand there by the place where Soquel Creek hits the beach.

Driving on Calabasas Road (by Gloria's place) was entertaining this afternoon: all the carefully-dug ditches at the edges of the apple orchards and berry fields were overflowing and flooding the road. By nighttime the rain had long since let up and the road was not so exciting, though there was a tree down over Buena Vista road, narrowing it to one lane for a short way.

I finally found my friend the kestrel, sitting in his usual place on the telephone wire, wet and seriously disgruntled.