Whine

This man was outside my apartment after a suicide leap from a neighbor's window.
My mom knows who he is. She's seen him in movies.

A whole crew of us went wine tasting in Livermore last weekend. It was a beautiful day out there, a little crisp, clear and sunny, very welcome after all the rain. Apparently I didn't take pictures of the actual wine tasting. Here's Concannon.
And this is Garre, while most people were served lunch, I was served up a Brandon-style ass-whoopin' on the bocce ball court.
Vegas on wheels.
There was a moment early on, with music blaring from the speaker inches from my ear, 18 people talking loudly, mirrored ceiling reflecting the laser light show in my face, cocktails and champagne all around at 11am, and sitting way too far away from the only exit, that I was certain I'd made a colossal mistake. The music turned down, I stopped noticing the lights, I broke the 'same seats' rule, and all was well. Fun day.

Oh, did I mention the limo was magical?
We also went to McGrail and Wente (the last stop, and the only one that asked for my ID).

The next day, I woke up with the death. Ma and Kev and Taxi came out for a visit, you know, because it's just a quick drive now (yes!). While I rapidly degraded, Kevin hung my new curtain rods, and then they got scared and ran home (curtains to occupy the rods are yet to come, hopefully next weekend). The death lasted 3 more days and wiped out a week of marathon training, but I bounced back. I ran 15 miles today without the luxury of full breathing capacity. And then walked another 6 miles with Sophie just because it was nice out. Take that.