
We finally got to meet Clarity Blue- She's a peach

We had tea and crumpets at the local brewery

Walking the trails in Corvallis

Camping above Mt. Shasta



Michelle and Clarity down near the Hood River
This is my view from the edge of nowhere, that's right, I'm living on the edge man.
















This is Robber, he gets in trouble at the Dog Park and then pretends that we're his owner. 



I awoke this morning with the horrible realization that I had left my cordless $400 Makita drill "Shakira" in the back of my truck along with my $300 framing level, on a Friday night, in San Francisco, mere blocks from cracktown. I flew from my bed, sprinted down the stairs and found everything in my truck as I had left it. Thank the Crack Lords, the Karma Fairy and the fact I happened to have pajamas on for once.

Timmy was tall enough to ride the Guzzler, I really shouldn't comment on that...
Angela could have used a little more sunblock and a few less pins, the extra innings were tough on her...


Gas in San Francisco is nearly as expensive as Coldfoot, Alaska- actually, I think I took this pic on Monday so it's probably there by now. I demanded the return of the 3's but this man spoke no english and thought I had to pee. Whatever.
You see Baptiste left Girdwood with me a year and a half ago but the ride through Canada was too much for him and he was belly-up before we made it back to American soil. But I swore to him his final resting place would be the San Francisco Bay and he has been in our freezer ever since.
My buddy Matt atop Tank Hill overlooking western San Francisco, we took a run up here then went for beers and topped the night off with karaoke at Amnesia, a wee pub I highly recommend.
Angela started to blow away so I scooped her up in my arms, that's downtown San Francisco in the background.
Here's my foreman Dan as we put up the last set of stairs in the house. They are much better than going up and down a ladder.
Mazzy welcomed me home with belated Easter wishes. She is all about the Holidays.
The first thing I did was run to Trader Joes for a $4.50 six pack of Stockyard Oatmeal Stout. I like it because it's dirt cheap, comes in a bottle, tastes like beer and has a picture of an old man on the front. What more does a beer need? So Cheers everyone, and in 5 more weeks I'll be headed north all over again...





