A series of storm fronts is making its way to our coast. There was 2-1/2″ rain a few days ago, the high pressure buffer in disarray right now. Gimme more of that low pressure thing, inviting the storms in off the ocean. I took off yesterday morning, got excellent latte and superb ginger scone at Toby’s, headed up the coast for 2 book signings. I get almost giddy when I take off in my truck for parts not unknown, but not recently visited. Sirius radio a huge boon. Water on the roads — a couple of times I didn’t slow down enough when hitting standing water and water sheeted over the truck, blinding me for a second. Magic Slim singing”I’m a Bluesman,” Willy Nelson’s “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys,” Ralph Stanley “Man of Constant Sorrow.” A pissed-off-looking turkey buzzard, soaked, sitting on a fence post. The Confederate Railroad doing “I Like Women a Little Bit On the Trashy Side.”
Bought a dozen oysters at Hog Isand Oyster Company, rolled through the green hills, water cascading everywhere. Seeing the earth get this much-needed moisture is exhilarating, like taking a deep breath. Acquifers getting recharged, creeks roiling, rivers at power stage.
A couple of buildings I spotted for the first time yesterday:
I got up to Louie’s around 4. We had shots of tequila and olives in his workshop, where he’s now building a concrete Rumford-type fireplace he’ll use for cooking as well as heat.
Louie’s older than me — unique for me, since everyone else I hang out with is younger. We grew up in the days of radio. As kids: Superman, The Green Hornet, The Whistler, I Love a Mystery. As adults: Jack Benny, Red Skelton, the Great Gildersleeve. We both know 1000s of songs. I just have to sing “Everybody’s hand in hand…” and he’ll sing, “…swinging down the lane.” We do this over and over. We both speak this rather rare language.