In our retirement years, do we really need the unending crawl of miscellaneous minutiae? [In any years, actually.]
Slap a piece of inexpertly shaped cardboard again the TV. Prop it up with a book or two. And you have my makeshift [i.e. desperate] attempt to stifle that annoying march of repeated sports scores across the bottom of the screen. [Just a matter of time before ESPN starts posting results of the drone-racing they’ve started televising. **]
**Honest, I only know this from the on-screen guide.
So, driving to home town, I opt to dodge the traffic on the main highway and take the ‘old road’, the one my dad drove when we were kids.
My first stop was Rocca’s Market, a place I’d never been. Google told me this would fill my arms with Sunday dinner from the grill. [Google will tell you darn near everything, won’t it? It’s up to us to sift through it all.]
Anyway, I enjoyed driving down old Monterey Highway and revisiting memories of junior high basketball games, high school friends, and favorite track coaching moments.
And, talk about revisiting old memories…
I caught this sunset shot before exiting toward my home town. Follow that sun and you’ll end up in the Pacific Ocean, by way of acres of agricultural land.
I can take the cold and wet of winter. It’s the darkness that gets me. So when the sun is out, I bolt from the house. We’re retired. We have the time. No sense staying locked up and losing those precious rays. In fact, it’s calling my name right now.
Just a couple of loaves for Christmas Day breakfast: onion/cheese and plain cheese.
Their sweet dough ‘cousins’ are resting comfortably in the fridge. They might end up as cinnamon rolls tomorrow afternoon. The dough’s flavor improves with a couple of days’ respite basking in the 35 degrees.