That Bastard Mark Twain Was Right!

After inhaling a late-morning breakfast at Home Plate - where we ran into a McEnroe-esque O.J. - Cory, Cerne and I headed up to Marin for the afternoon. The drive was just what the doctor ordered - about 45 minutes of winding two lane country roads that took us through Ross, Fairfax, Olema and other picturesque Marin villages. Horses, cows, state parks, small country stores, B&Bs. While there are definitely lush areas up in Marin, this particular drive had lots of "brown". Not sure if that's due to the season/high temps up north or if that's just a perennial Bay Area feature. I notice lots of brown conditions if I commute on 280, but again, not sure if that's just time of the year or what. Anyway, the temperatures fluctuated every few miles ... from 60 up to 87 degrees and back. We finally settled on Tomales Bay State Park, where it was only about 65 or so with pure sunshine. There are a bunch of different coves that people seem to refer to as beaches. The benefit of being on the bay side is that you're sheltered from the crazy fog and wind coming off of the Pacific this time of the year. As soon as we said that, we looked up and saw the fog begin to roll in. All good, though, as we'd already gotten about 2 hours of R&R in on the "beach" by then. I think we were back in the city by 5-ish.

After a great meal at Chez Snikes on Saturday night, I was looking forward to continuing the streak Sunday night, but this time down on the BBQ. After wolfing down some leftovers, I threw some salmon burgers on the bah-bee, but was super pissed off because the wind and fog made it feel as if I was attempting to cook outdoors in freakin Jersey in November. After a perfectly restful and happy Sunday afternoon, depression set in! I think this is the first time in almost 5 years that the SF summer is really getting to me. Anytime the temps hit 75+ish in SF during June/July, there's wild dancing in the streets. Crazy, indeed.

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Ila attended her first movie this morning. Pretty cool concept, eh? 5+ months old and she's already a critic! She slept through all but the last 10 minutes of Must Love Dogs. That - in a nutshell - was her review ... snooooze-fest! Well, at least we can be sure that she's not going to dig the Chick-Flick genre when she gets older. That's my girl!