Waiting Game

One thing that is almost as certain as death and taxes on Northern California beaches--it will be foggy and cold in the morning. The hotter it is inland, the denser the fog is at the beach. This does not seem to be a problem for the dogs and fisher people. Because Ozzie loves the water, and particularly the beach we find ourselves here often. It is one of only a small handful of beaches that allow dogs at all.

This morning the majority of the beachgoers were labradors charging in and out of the water after sticks, balls and the odd bird. Ozzie likes to top off each foray into the waves with a good roll in the sand afterward. His little buddy, Rudy the wire haired daschund, loves nothing better than to chase after Ozzie, stopping just short of the water, sitting down and waiting to take up the chase again when he emerges. It only took Rudy one dash into the water to develop this strategy.

Perhaps the fish settle to the bottom to wait out the heat of the day. There never seems to be anybody fishing after about 10:30am.

I was the lone woman having dinner with a group of men last night. We went to a restaurant that features pork. The owners of this small and very hip roadhouse style restaurant have a pig farm and cure all their own meat. One of their signature appetizers is a bacon wrapped date.

A story was told about our mutual friend Nev, who grew up in Goa where pigs are commonly found wandering around the roads. He said if you are riding a bike or a motorcycle, and an animal runs out in front of you, you aim your bike accordingly. A pig will always turn around and run back into the bush, so you aim for its head. No mention of slowing down or how to make a split second identification of the animal so you can aim accordingly. I can only assume that an inherent sense of self preservation would be useful in making this determination, since actually hitting an animal the size of a pig would no doubt be disastrous.