Berkeleyblipper

By Wildwood

Bad Ear Day

Today was pretty much given over to football (a game which does nothing for me, even when it is the local San Francisco team in the playoffs), and the dogs. Our neighbor brought his Bassett Hound, Hank, an amiable fellow, who checks the perimeter for food that may have been inadvertently left close to the floor, not too likely with Ozzie around, and then amuses himself by getting Ozzie's toys out of a bin in the office. I hasten to add that we know we have probably totally emasculated our dog by buying him stuffed toys with squeakers in them (our favorite is "Mr Bill" of Saturday Night Live fame, who goes, "....oh noooooo" ), but hey, we already did that to him years ago!

While the guys watched the game, Ozzie and Hank and I hung out in the kitchen and I tried to work out some of my camera/computer/Blipfoto glitches. Time will tell if I succeeded. I took some nice pictures on our exploratory trip to the top of the road behind our house which ends at Hood Mountain Regional Park. The park has been closed since before we became residents at its foot because, in their infinite wisdom, the powers that be waited until the rainy season to begin this project. We thought we'd park outside the gates and walk to the site of the construction to see if we could find out if they've made any progress. Apparently they haven't, since even the pedestrian gate was firmly closed and locked, and the road bristled with warning signs.

Even from where we were, the views were spectacular, so we walked down the approach road, and I took a picture of a little property which was a study in humorous oxymorons. Perched on the side of a steep hill, it is a small red frame house with a porch and a sign at the driveway that says H----- Ranch. Hardly. Up the hill is an old bicycle which clearly isn't going anywhere on that hill. Further up the hill is an old Jeep which ditto. It was sunny and the air felt, and smelled, like spring. As we arrived back at the car we commiserated with a man who had had the same idea and the same opinion of the powers that be as we did. He chose not to stick around, but turned around and drove back down the road, his dog peering out of the back window.

Having fed the footballers and the dogs, I sat down with my pictures, only to discover that they still had the wrong date (year) on them. Too late to do anything about that today so I took a picture of Hank as he relaxed in a spot of sun. Love those Bassett legs, and that loose Bassett skin. Perhaps tomorrow I'll try the new camera pictures again. They are no longer in a raw file, and they have the correct date on them....

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