Sunday, April 21, 2024

    The young poet left early with the tall guy and the dog lover to catch a plane at San Francisco airport. The house is in good shape, dishes done, laundry ready, food in the refrigerator.  I eat the poet’s leftover kale pizza for lunch and the extra salmon for dinner. I didn’t much like the kale pizza. Actually I have never heard of kale pizza before.

     Each day the Army Presidio in Monterey blows their bugle at 10pm and at 7am reminding me that I actually live in a military community, not just a tourist town.

    When I was growing up, in mid 20^th century Monterey, My father posted a daily weather report outside his business.  Every day the work crew would put up the new words on the side of the building. His clever words were funny and sharp as he reflected on the day’s events and news. We all looked forward to his messages.

     Still reading the current Stephen Spotswood mystery story set in the 1940’s. A stack of books from Amazon and from the library are waiting for me.