Melanie & i took an impromptu trip down to San Diego this weekend, on the occasion of our grandparents arriving from New England; and as Grampa just had brain surgery, it was a good time to go see them. He recovered like the trooper/mad-scientist/inventor and all-around crazy-smart dude that he is (yes he needs this many hyphenated words to describe him).
Had a hell of a time getting home — cars that wouldn’t start, rain that wouldn’t stop, getting soaked while learning Auto Repair 101 (but fixing it, finally!), Hollywood freeways never going above 40 mph, and driving home soaking wet (hair and clothes both). But now here i sit, finally home in dry clothes, with a rather stiff pitcher of Tom Collinses in front of me, getting a bit tight but loosening my tunic enough to be able to breathe through the twenty layers of ace bandages around my torso without launching into a coughing fit. And the sound of the dashing, pouring, ceaseless rain crashing down outside the windows of my Santa Barbara.
And you know what? I kinda really love it.