Lost Week

...or so I'm told by the fine folks at Blip Central. It is difficult to know what day it is in this limbo land between Christmas and New Year's Day. I feel that I have photographed this little 'bouquet' of feathers at least 2000 times, but it does change from time to time as small feathers blow away and others are added as I find them. In any case, they fascinate me .

These milestones remind me of how important the keeping of a daily journal and meeting so many wonderful people has become to me. I can't help doing a little reminiscing as I think back through the 2,000 days since I published my first blip, a picture of Lady Findhorn and His Lordship. Blipfoto has carried me through a major move, a major disaster and  a lot of minor changes and gives me an anchor on which to pin every day. I look forward to many more blips to come.... 

Some old friends of ours from Berkeley stayed with us last night. We met when our kids were in kindergarten together and have been great friends ever since. 

There was a lot of talk about earthquakes (Loma Prieta) and fires (the Berkeley/Oakland Hills, the North Bay) and class field trips on one of which Beth and I managed to leave one of the kids behind on Alcatraz Island, watching it (and him) recede into the distance as our ferry carried us back to San Francisco without him. I forget how we managed to retrieve him, but I'm sure it was not without a fair amount of drama.

One of the kids on that field trip, my son Tim, still thinks he's a kid, and still manages a fair amount of drama. He called the other day to say that he probably wouldn't be able to play golf because his hand was 'kind of swollen'. After considerable  prodding, I managed to elicit the details of his bicycle crash involving the dog on a leash, a squirrel and a lot of road rash. After we hung up I started thinking about my own bicycle incident many years ago in which I found myself in an ambulance trying to tell the paramedic what day it was.Tim seemed to be having trouble remembering what day it was, although that is true for most of us in this lost week, but knowing that he doesn't won't wear a helmet I called him back. (Once a mom always a mom...) He didn't answer, but the next morning I got the following text: "No Ned to wurry. I fine am I...."