Thank you unnamed rhetorical reader, my brain is fully functional and it is indeed Monday. But that's the beauty of being 68 years old, retired and having my own detail-agnostic platform, that I've studiously built over the course of the past 17 years. I can do whatever the hell I want here.
I can write what I want, when I want, for whoever I want. That's not to be undersold. Particularly after a long career of just the opposite. I wish I had the same power over my dreams. They are often stressful. And disturbing. Thankfully I wake up and forget most of what has transpired. The only remnant of which is the occasional night sweat.
If only the dreams were more peaceful and bucolic, like the picture above, which was not lifted from some travel brochure but shot on my iPhone while Ms. Muse and I were in Paso Robles at Sensorio.
Here's some more photos from my very peripatetic life.
Where we also had the joy of
Don't know what Boyfriend Style is.
As is questionable public art pieces.
Just East of Paso Robles, one can find dozens of interesting wineries.
Ms. Muse is quite photogenic,
Closer to home, this was spotted on the canal
Like my friend Mr. Jim, I love the cartoons of
Unlike my friend Mr. Jim, I don't have the most refined eye for art.
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