Whatever is Left: Summer 2014

View from the Stephen F. Austin

We are (not) Texas

Winedale's Theatre Barn

There are no words . . .

On the side of the angels

St. Louis Cathedral

Independence Day County Fair

Otoro Sushi in Scott's Valley

Mystery Spot

Bianchi Winery in Paso Robles:


XCVIII: Hornet's Nest

We graduated from trains to planes. Or, more accurately, an aircraft carrier that had several planes aboard, and a couple helicopters as well. Also the Apollo 12 module.

The American likes these things because her parents served in the U.S. Navy.

Letting the boy stand by the weapons . . . There's fine parenting for you. (Yes, John, I know they were all locked, but still.)

No pictures of us, mind. Nowhere to display us, thank God; she wasn't allowed to touch anything. If only that were always the case.


XCVII: Training

Our next adventure took place here:

Believe me, it's as scintillating as it sounds.

The littlest child is very fond of trains. I'm led to understand that this is common in children, and especially boys. Which explains why John enjoyed it so much.

And yet, they don't look all that excited . . .

Many scenic views of nothing.

They seem happier to be off the train than they were to be on it.

There were dogs . . .

More nothing . . .

And ever more nothingness . . .
(No, John, I don't mean you.)
She, on the other hand . . .

XCVI: Mother's Day

John has pointed out I haven't posted here in a while, but I have my reasons. In any case, I'll make up for it now by starting with Mother's Day. My mother certainly wasn't around, but The American has three children, so it appears she qualifies for special treatment on this particular holiday.

Special treatment in America (or at least California) = food trucks.

I can't even . . .

Something they call "Off the Grid."

Fine, then, we might have eaten and been through with it all, but then . . .

If you do the maths, you will come to the total of us having gone to a Japanese garden. God only knows why. Maybe because Hakone is one of the oldest and most authentic of such gardens in the Western Hemisphere. Also, The American really likes flowers. Not that there were many. Bamboo, yes, and origami, but not much in bloom.

That, then, was Mother's Day. More to come.