We awoke to an overcast sky and occasional spells of gentle rain. Realizing that yesterday we had omitted to go to the Tomales post office and empty Bets and Bryan’s mail boxes, I somewhat hastily threw on some clothes and made the short trip to do just that. The amount of mail they both receive is such that the boxes could soon be full to overflowing, I think. The post mistress was very helpful and gave me a mail bin to ease my collection of everything while they are away.
As the rain continued sporadically, we were kept busy by a couple of callers with more deliveries. Our house-sitting duties got particularly interesting when Bryan’s fax machine burst into life and shortly started bleating about a paper jam. Meanwhile the phone rang; it was the sender of said jammed fax wondering if it had been received correctly. Not being cleared to fly the fax machine solo, Carol gamely set about clearing the paper jam while I was on the phone. The pages that we had received were time-stamped but blank. The sender thought he might have fed the source pages in upside down; he’d try again. More success this time; printed pages began to appear. The fax machine jammed again. Engineer Carol cleared it again and the final page appeared. Phew!
The irritation drizzle ceased by later afternoon for us to drive to Fred and Lorraine’s house, thence to Sonoma for our planned jazz-accompanied picnic and farmer’s market. Crossing the hills into the Sonoma valley changed the weather dramatically; clear skies greeted us. The market/picnic is apparently a two-weekly affair during the summer. Regrettably, this was the last one this year.
Sonoma is a wonderfully atmospheric little town with a grassy central square surrounded by interesting buildings, alleys and, on one corner, an old mission. Steve and Kathy had already staked claim to some grass when we arrived. Our party was soon underway accompanied by some relaxing jazz to aid digestion. Nobody seemed too concerned about the market so we talked, ate, drank and listened.
The party continued as daylight faded and lights came on around the square. I managed to grab one shot of the illuminated Sebastiani Theatre but we should, perhaps, try to return one evening armed with our well-travelled tripod for a better attempt.
We were still nattering when we realized the the square was now pretty much deserted except for ourselves and the now packing up jazz musicians. Time to head back home to finish off the bottle of wine.
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