Gentle crashing waves. Quiet call of the gull. Scent of fresh ocean air. Complete serenity.
Waking up on Treasure Island is one of my fondest memories of the three years Jen and I spent living 2.5 miles in the middle of the Bay and at least twice as far from the nearest tall building. Lately, I’ve been missing and appreciating the seclusion of the island when the first sound I hear after the alarm in a Larkspur morning is the rush-whiz sound of nearby traffic on Highway 101.
Last night Dad came over to visit for awhile. While watching dogTV, Happy pulled one of his most hilarious moves to date: He jumped straight up in the air (at least 3 or 4 feet), went flying over me (I was sitting on the couch), bounced on the couch cushions next to me, and landed on the floor. I’d say his attempt to escape the wrath of Stella Brie was successful. As if foreshadowing that moment, his new vet had said earlier in the day that Happy must be incredibly fast and able to jump really high. He couldn’t have been more correct. Happy also runs at the speed of light. He gives his sister a run for her money, as well as every dog he’s met at my office.
We’ve purchased tickets to head to New York tomorrow morning. We leave bright and early, returning Sunday evening. It will be a quick and exhausting trip, but I’m really glad to be going along.
In a sorry excuse for an “election” yesterday, Iraqi citizens voted an overwhelming “yes” to keep Saddam Hussein in power. Of course, with the other option being “no” and surely a fear of execution for dissenting in the air, what other choice did citizens have?
And in equally important news, this report shows that mistresses are a good way to keep spirits up — even when talk of war abounds.
