Notes: Well, of course I have sneakers. A person can not really be expected to exist in the world without a good pair of giant, grubby, comfortable sneakers. Are they fabulous? Not a bit. But they are good for events like the annual pre-Thanksgiving dinner hike at my Uncle Bruce’s place, out to Licorice Rock and back. Of course, for that to work, a person needs to wake up before about noon, if that person happens to be in San Mateo and the dinner, hike and walk happen to be in Willits, as these two places do not happen to be what you would call close together.
But that person would put on her going-for-a-walk shoes and jeans, in the valiant hope that she will make it there by something that vaguely resembles “in time,” load the boyfriend who is meeting the extended family for the first time into the car and drive even more like a madwoman than usual. Except for the parts where she gets stuck in traffic.
Long story not exactly short, but leaving out all the self-recriminations, we did make it. Not in time for the hike, though, and not in time to change before the pictures, because the light was going and Mom wanted to get a group shot for the Christmas cards, and there are times when it is best not to oppose her. (This was one of them.) So there I am, right on the edge of the group, with giant white sneaker feet.
Dear reader, I have learned to always set an alarm.