Life of Wry

Because every road trip should start with a hot, steamy cafe au lait and the town’s best poppy seed muffin.

Last night’s wicked February north winds took a few prisoners.   Could have been worse, could have been a nice backyard, shade-giving tree, but no, it’s our long dead Moraine Ash that needed to come out anyway.  Here’s Jim,  lumberjacking away.

He left a few branches hanging on the power cable.   PG&E’s on the way.

And it REALLY could have been worse: could have been the lone Redwood in the neighbor’s front yard, about which I wrote yesterday.  That one’s swaying violently in the wind, as I write this.

It’s not like one of my two life’s fears isn’t about being crushed by a fallen tree.  Let me clarify that sentence full of double negatives: I have a huge fear of trees falling on houses.  Saw too many of them growing up on the mean, eucalyptus infested streets of Palos Verdes.  Via La Selva: by way of the JUNGLE.  My street.  Our neighborhood looked like monster tinker toys were strewn around after a storm.

Wind.  Trees.  Willies.

The other fear I live with is cabinets coming off the kitchen walls.  No idea where that comes from.

Anyway.

North wind in Davis.  No better time to leave town.