Day Two-hundred-and-one: Doing Davis

This weekend, without the holiday Monday, I decided to visit my youngest daughter. Her husband left to go fishing with his father at 5:30 AM this morning. I didn't leave until 9:00 AM and was at their house by 11:30. She was still in her pajamas, robe, and slippers. It was cool in her house, not cold, but she is used to Central Valley summers and their 100+ degree days.

After she went trough my pictures, transferring selected ones to her computer, we headed off to Sacramento for lunch and a hike along the American River. The Prius Navigation System took us on the scenic route, right down J Street. And scenic it was, especially all the motorcycles being ridden by "Wicked Wheels," "Iron Souls," and hundreds of other club members. Fortunately, a lot of them were already parked at the Convention Center. So, in addition to giving us something to look at, they slowed traffic to a crawl to give us plenty of time to look.

This was all my fault. My daughter let me pick the restaurant. I used the Prius Navigation System to select a restaurant that was on the way to the American River. We lucked out twice. Not only was the restaurant still in business but it was also good food.

Then after our 3.7 mile walk up and down the lazy river, we went grocery shopping for the ingredients she didn't have that were required for our evening vegan feast: vegan mashed potatoes and punk rock chickpea gravy from Vegan with a Vengeance, chickpea cutlets from Veganomicon, sauteed brussel sprouts from my daughter's brain, and gigantoid crunchy peanut butter and oatmeal cookies for dessert also from Vegan with a Vengeance.

The cookies really were gigantic. The batter made just 12 cookies but each cookie ad to be eight inches in diameter. The whole meal was fantastic. What's more, they have a waffle iron for the Banana Walnut waffles tomorrow from Veganomicon.

It also appears that my daughter is attempting to become her grandfather's favorite through completely unorthodox means. She is sympathetically joining her grandparents in their ladybug infestation. Since I only saw one and it was on her, until she knocked it off, maybe it is just her who is infested.

I was also informed that I get to be a cat person for about a month, the month that my youngest daughter and her husband are off training for their hike on the Pacific Crest Trail after they've given up their rental but before their longer term arrangement is available. (Their cats are named Humphrey and Napoleon. I'll let you guess which one is smaller and dominant. Maybe the larger one was named for the whale.) There are all kinds of new experiences in my Life after Layoff.

Actually, taking care of a cat won't really be a new experience. Before I met Marilyn, I had a cat whose name was Weldon for the street I lived on but who was called Butt. My daughter uses a bell to call her cats but an electric can opener works better.

Butt in a box.