Wednesday, August 07, 2002

There's No Place Like Home - We returned home this afternoon from our relaxing mini-getaway in Sonoma, a short 90-minute ride from good 'ol Oakland. The highlights of the trip were some outstanding meals at the finest restuarants in the region, including Chef Charlie Palmer's Dry Creek Kitchen, Bistro Ralph and In-N-Out Burger. Believe it or not, the last one was Jenny's idea, which I heartily endorsed. At both fancy restaurants, our dinners were cut short by little Russell's crying spells which at Ralph's forced us to miss dessert. Fortunately, we were prepared the next night at the Dry Creek Kitchen and ordered our desserts to go (I had the cheesecake).

We also treated ourselves to massages at the hotel spa and purchased mementos of our first "vacation" with Russell in tow. Jenny bought an end table for the living room and a blown-glass chicken for her mom. I continued my French antique kick with a purchase of an antique match-holder, which you may view here. Marie Brizard is a French maker of liquers and apertifs.

While we were having lunch at a deli, Jenny overheard the conversation of two middle-age, white males at the table next to us. Apparently, they were Healdsburg residents (a.k.a. limousine liberals) and not big fans of President George W. Bush. One of them ranted on about the Bush administration curtailing civil liberties and encouraging citizens to spy on one another. At this point, I began to carefully observe the behavior of the two suspects. When they finished their lunch, they promptly threw the contents of their trays--which included an aluminum can and a plastic bottle--into the trash bin, completely ignoring the "Recycle Cans and Bottles Here" bin next to the garbage. I made a mental note of their appearance, and then reported their misdeeds to the Sierra Club.


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