Berkeleyblipper

By Wildwood

OilMan's Better Half

When I succeeded in disconnecting most of the lights on our pre-lit Christmas tree, OilMan grudgingly moved himself off the couch to investigate the problem. Despite it's technical imperfection, I feel that this is the quintessential picture of man's role in holiday celebrations . He was a good sport about letting me use the picture, despite its unflattering nature.

Today Maureen and Kelly, our Sebastopol neighbors (and soon to be former landlords) came for lunch bearing a beautiful orchid. I'll probably be blipping it soon before I manage to kill it. We have grown to be good friends and will miss the farmhouse, but just as our relationship with Cindy, our realtor changed when we were no longer her clients, I think our relationship with Maureen and Kelly will change when we are no longer their tenants. Freed of the social and professional perimeters that come with doing business with someone, the warmth and good feeling which was always there can be expressed in an unfettered way.

Getting out the Christmas decorations, unwrapping them from their boxes where they were packed away a year ago and deciding where to put them is like a miniature version of the whole process of moving. Tomorrow we're going to give it all a rest and take a drive up to Geyserville where we will have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants called Diavola ("she devil"). Then we will visit the Medlock Ames tasting room where OilMan stood about three years ago and, leaning against the bar, looking around said, "I could live here...." Although we don't quite live in the Medlock Ames tasting room we do feel it merits a ceremonial visit, since it inspired us to seriously consider the move we have just made.





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