“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.” John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America Travel with Charley: In Search of America is in one of my to-read book piles. It may be the next book I reach for, being that I'm curious to learn what John Steinbeck was seeking as he wandered about the country with his canine pal Charley in 1960. Steinbeck was traveling in the era to which the present administration seems to want to return. You know the "Make America Great Again". Myself, I would rather not return to the age when civil rights for all was not honored by those mean-spirited in power and those cowardly who sided with the powerful.

Filemon the Flying Squirrel fixed his goggles fairly on his face. He took a few deep breaths to steady his fraught nerves. Really, truly, he repeated to himself, he had nothing to fear. So said his friends Bingo and Bubba Byrd who sat beside him. "Filemon, flying is what you are about," said Bingo, patting his shoulder. What if it isn't?" fretted Filemon. "Dude, you're feeling first-time jitters," Bubba said. "I was awfully fidgety before my first flight. But when I took my first hop into flight, oh my folly golly jolly. I was all fat smiles. My wings flung widely. I floated in sunshine. It was fantastic, Filemon!" Filemon found himself feeling quite calm. "Filemon! Filemon! Filemon!" The flying squirrel searched the ground below for the source of the faint cries. There, near the shoreline were his friends jumping up and down on the beach and waving funny red signs. "Filemon!" cheered Agathe the Aardvark .

The other day I came across these photos of the Mama's front yard in 2010. Neat and proper, how the Mama loved her gardens and landscaping to be. A philosophy that differs from mine, which is essentially a higgledy-piggledy one, although you might say that there is order in chaos. It has been almost two years since I've taken over the Mama's gardens and landscaping. Flowers have gotten out of hand. The canna lilies, for example, were winning in their plot to take over the front garden so I dug out most of the bulbs and transplanted many elsewhere last month. The Mama's rosemary bushes, on the other hand, are getting straggly in a way that I wonder if they may be on their last legs. The Mama's roses got rather tall. Some nearly reached the roof. She deadheaded them, but after someone mentioned how tall the roses were, she was no longer interested in cutting them back. So I thought. Now I wonder if was because it was too difficult for her to prune them and s

Yesterday afternoon, and into the night, I essentially did something like a cramming session. As is my wont, I waited to the last minute to complete documents to bring to the self-help legal center at the courthouse this morning. Monday is the only day the center is open for five hours. I made sure that the Husband and I got out of the house in time to get there at 8:00 a.m. because I was told that people begin lining up minutes before the door opens. Half a block away I could see parking spaces right next to the building. We were so in luck! The courthouse doors were still locked at 8:01 a.m. Peeking through the glass door, we saw no guards manning the security screening machines. Odd, right? I walked a bit further up and noticed through the windows that the shades were drawn at the counter where the court clerks ought to be. Eerie! "Is this a holiday?" I asked the Husband. "Is this the 19th?" he answered. "President's Day is the 19th." "Tha

I took this photo a few days ago. This is part of Pajaro Valley, east of Watsonville, in Santa Cruz County. Do the mountains look far away? Because they really are.  The Husband and I drive through this valley on our way to and from Freedom where we buy Molly the Cat's food. It's about an hour round drive, but so worth the peace of mind we get as we drive the back roads of the valley and along the windy low mountain pass highway to San Benito County where we live. Once through the pass, we drive through San Juan Valley to our town of Hollister, which is in the tail end of the Santa Clara valley. As a kid, I heard people say we live in Hollister Valley or San Benito Valley. These days I read about our town nestled in a small valley, so I wonder if our valley has a formal name, now forgotten. That's something to look up one day. I'm linking up with All Seasons , a weekly meme hosted by Jesh at Artworks from Jesh St.G. Click here to check out Jesh and her meme.