We're goin boom boom boom and that's the way we live.

I insisted on doing nothing yesterday. Actually I had stressed myself out about all the things I needed to do & S made me sit on the couch in the pale sunlight & rubbed my shoulders & smoothed my hair & said, "Shush." And nothing I didn't do made any difference at all, except I didn't get the laundry finished and so I had only one black skimpy slightly-unfavored-uncomfortable bra clean this morning. But there are worse things, sure.

And in a great big room and that's the way we live.

Thursday we had sweet JJ & Tebone come for dinner and we sampled three different types of red Italian wines with long names I can't recall (Montolpulciano? and two other Godblessitanos. Childish I know. Sobitemeano). I liked the cheapest one best; the other two would probably age better, but they had a sharp taste I didn't appreciate. Yes, I got a little tipsy. We talked about a big summertime shindig and commiserated with JJ's boss troubles and I recall sending them home with some books to read.

I'm the king of bongo, baby.

Friday flew by not quite fast enough. When I was a young girl my parents would take me camping at the beach south of San Francisco and I remember the long lines of brown pelicans skimming just above the surface of the water just behind the big waves, elegant in their flight and formation. Their wings make a crescent, and although they look awkward on land with their big long bills, they're graceful in the air. We would count them, how many in a line sailing swift over the crashing green. Every once in a while one would swoop and splash into the water and rise with a full beak, water streaming from the pouch, the fish ensared by the beak. And once I saw a sea lion leap out of the water and grab a pelican as it flew low above the waves. That's about how Friday felt.

I'm the king of bongo bong.

Saturday dawned sunny and bright and I awoke feeling refreshed and good, and I taught my dance class two new fun things to do with their bodies. One of my girls is a senior in high school, and something tells me high school is not her favorite thing. She's one of those large girls without much sense of her physical being, and I am glad to see her taking this class. She has a wide open moon face with clear skin and a stunning beautiful brilliant smile. She also has an awkward, self-conscious manner about her, and could be Junoesque but she's too painfully aware of her size in this small-equals-desireable culture. But she's learning, yes she is. It's my job to make her say, "Wow, I'm smart and pretty. And hey, look what I can do with these hips."

We're goin boom boom boom and that's the way we live.

Saturday afternoon we pruned most of the thirty or so roses in our yard (the previous owner thought the only plants in the world were roses and rhododendrons), all thorns and sweat and cuss words and rewarded ourselves with beers & cheeseburgers & a shower & then a nap together. We slept too long and woke up muffle-headed and wild-haired but a small dose of coffee cured the post-nap yawns. After errands and meetings we wended our way to our tall thin friends' tall thin house on the hill, where we ate much raw fish with rice & seaweed and drank Momokawa Diamond sake. It is fun to make sushi, roll the whole thing together in the little bamboo mats. A local fish market sells fantastic sushi-grade tuna. R-r-r-r-aw fish.

And in a great big room and that's the way we live.

We slept in Sunday. We did nothing Sunday. Well that's not true I'll leave it to the imagination.

I'm the king of bongo, baby.
I'm the king of bongo bong.