Yes, the shower is fabulous. I was rather ridiculous, really, adjusting the way it [what – pulses? Jets?] shoots water out, depending on what I was doing. I used the pow-pow action for my back and neck, the reg’lar old hard shower for most of the body, then switched it to gentle mist for my face, and back to pow-pow to wash the soap out of the washcloth.
That kind of routine could get old really quickly. But it was fun for the first time.
I’m right now sitting on Mom’s back porch, my laptop on my knees, my two babies at my feet. Digit didn’t RUN at me this time, he kind of ambled thoughtfully when he heard me calling. “I want to go see her, but I know what she did. And she might do it again.” He’s forgiven me now that I’ve shared a little clam chowder with him.
It was the most remarkable drive. I think I always forget how perfect this time of year is for driving down the coast. It was warm inland, but not broiling. I put the top down about two hours out of San Luis, just north of King City. (Then I had to pull over and repack the pillows which threatened several times to lift off.) The low hills are so violently GREEN, and the sky is that clear pale blue. My favorite wild flower, the mustard blossom, is everywhere, making golden swathes across the green. Cows and sheep and the occasional llama, oh my! When I came over the Cuesta Grade and dropped in San Luis Obispo, it got a little too warm. But the best part of being too warm here is coming up the slight grade out of San Luis and catching your first sight of the Pacific since San Francisco. The air instantly (no exaggeration) cools and I pulled off the freeway to drive the surface streets. Joanna wrote about it recently – the way convertibles offer so much more in the way of olfactory fun. It doesn’t make that much sense – you would think you would smell almost as much with all the windows down, but you don’t. And in Shell Beach, I could smell salt and fog and dirt and fresh mown grass and gas from the freeway and lumber from a new hotel being built. And jasmine.
Oh. Oh, oh, oh. My friend Trish said the other day, “Rachael, I think you have a good life.” I’m scared when people say something like that, lest we jinx it and I end up horribly maimed and/or paralyzed after being struck by a sink stopper that has fallen from a passing Southwest jet in need of bathroom repairs. (If that does happen, however, I am opening a psychic center, and you will all be my first customers.)
But I don’t think we jinx ourselves. Or if we do, we can also jinx ourselves into happiness. It is such a goddamn beautiful kind of world, and people are so INTERESTING. Go out today and see something fabulous. Then tell me about it, kay?
Mwah.
