Independence Day. Today the dawg and I went to town for breakfast and a romp on the beach where he got covered with sand. He was sand colored, no really. So back at the ranch, we had a shower together. Mournful dog, standing under the shower head, feeling so beleaguered and plagued by warm water and shampoo.
In town I went to find a calendar and a Quan Yin for Jude's sweet home. There was a crystal/incense/chime-y store (you know the type) with the most enormous brown poodle lying around in the Edgar Cayce section. I thought he was a dog Buddha. The store owner encouraged me to bring Felix in to meet him. So, foolishly, I did. They barked, growled and sniffed each other. Felix spent some time baring his teeth at monster poodle who was being, well, saintly. So Felix pooped ON THE FLOOR of the store. Gawd. I took my calendar and Quan Yin and got outa there.
It was recommended that I go to a certain cafe for breakfast at the end of town on the pier. When I got there, there was a line and being a single gal, I thought, I'll be ignored so I turned to leave. Sitting by the counter was Peggy, my midwife buddy from forever ago. So I sat down in front of her and when she stopped yipping, she invited me to order and to meet to her new guy (who put away a prodigious amount of food, whoa) and we proceeded to tell birth stories and such. At the end, I scored a bite of steak for the dawg and two pieces of carrot cake from the back of Peggy's car. And here I was, thinking that this town is sure cute and quaint and a retirement possibility. However, it's mighty white, as in no POC, not any that I saw today.
It's early, overcast and I'm in Jude's pink bathrobe with clean hair, listening to music and looking out at the forest. On the way back to here, there was a deer by the road munching away. Common enough occurrence around here, I'm sure, but a sign that Rebecca's animal gods are watching over us fractured humans.