LXIII: J & J

I managed to get out of the day's outing. Instead, John and Jim had the . . . Honor? Luxury?

In any case, they ended up here:

Quite scenic, and I'm assured the weather was perfect. They started by walking through an old train . . .

 Then got cozy on the carousel . . .

Sorry, John, but really, it does look like
you're holding hands.

There were other rides: a Ferris wheel, a roller coaster. And, of course, a train.

No, she is not the train. She is on the train.

. . . Which stopped at a faux town that included a "church" . . .

Is this what they mean by "bully" pulpit?

. . . and a "schoolhouse" . . .

I wonder about their marks . . .

. . . and (John's favorite) a "saloon."

The friendly service, as promised. But I question the legality. 

They didn't stay long.

 Afterward, they went into Sonoma proper for lunch at a café.

They do make a sweet couple, don't they?

But they at least thought to bring me some treats from a local candy shop.

So how could I possibly feel left out? I am actually quite relieved to not have had to go.

And now I'm off to eat my Yorkie Bar.

ETA: Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Glass (as described in the comments):

LXII: All Sales Are Final

The Savoy it is. And Macbeth at The Globe in the bargain.

The trade-off being that I am required to go see and hear someone or something called The Script in August.

Only time will tell whether this is a fair exchange.

LXI: A Collection of Events

I realize, courtesy of a number of e-mails, that my adoring public has keenly felt my absence. Apologies. Have been wrestling with a number of cases, none of which I am at liberty to discuss.

I can say we went into The City for a weekend conference, wherein she had a lot of fun and we did this:

The hotel was nice at least.

There were various authors at this weekend event.

That's Anne Perry on the left.

Guy Kawasaki

R.L. Stine

At least she was thoughtful enough to bring me back a signed book.

Spelled my name wrong however . . .
I mean, it's not even close.

There was Valentine's Day, too, of course. Which happened before this weekend conference and included a dinner to which I was not invited. Not that I wanted to be part of such a drippy holiday, nor was I particularly hungry, but I do find Valentine's Day a marvelous time to observe the human animal in the most interesting and intricate of its interactions: the mating ritual.

She got a pen, by the way.

Apparently a very fancy pen, which pleased her more than I would have guessed any writing instrument might do. And yet she hasn't used it at all; she says she wants to wait until the "right moment." Or did she mean "write" moment?

Yes, John, I did think that was funny . . . What do you mean 'that explains a lot'?

Finally, she put a bit of furniture in her office. Not elsewhere in the house, mind. Both the formal lounge and the den are still free of seating. Or pretty much anything else for that matter. Well, she spends most of her time in her office anyway.

Quite comfy.

Back to London come July. Right now she's trying to decide between The Dorchester and The Savoy.  The Dorchester has sentimental value, but it's more frilly and flowery than I like. Nice to be by the park, though. You can look for us, assuming she lets us out of her bag . . .