Sunday Somnambulance

I spent most of yesterday recovering from the shock of my wife’s choice not to go out dancing on Saturday night; a decision that sent shock waves through the western hemisphere.  It helped that yesterday was arguably a perfect day, warm temperatures and no humidity.  This summer has been remarkable weather wise with no extended heat waves and the cool summer nights I remembered from my youth. 

My Wife to Buddy Last Evening on the Deck
"Repeat After me - I Will NOT Try to Eat the BFA's Cat Next Time"

After the obligatory Sunday errands I tackled the lawn and my painting project while my wife conducted extended PanaGal consultations through a variety of media (phone to facebook to skype and back to phone)with cohorts in Panama.  We both ended up on the back deck as the sun was departing the realm.  Buddy was also present to receive his continued feline tolerance counseling (falling on deaf ears so far). 

Buddy Admiring My Bold Fashion Statement of Lounge Pants

Buddy was also lodging complaints about his restricted access to his domain.  I painted the basement floors a couple years ago which is Buddy’s habitat.  He apparently took offense to this since he’s been wreaking havoc on the paint since that time.  Every time there’s a thunderstorm I find a new spot where he tried to tunnel through the basement floor.  Paint is nowhere near as sturdy as concrete (who knew?). HE spent the entire afternoon taking me over the closed basement door and asking as eloquently as you can non-verbally to inspect the state of “his” room.  I made a bold guess that having the dog track gray paint throughout the house was probably not a good idea.

Buddy Wondering What Happened to All of His Post-Modern Etchings in the Basement Floor

We spoke briefly with our daughter who reported the opening of a new restaurant in her Brooklyn neighborhood which came with an outdoor patio for late Sunday evening beverages.  I’m amazed at the transformation of her neighborhood in the almost decade she’s lived there.  When we first saw it seemed like a collection of warehouses and little else. Every time we’ve returned there’s something new – along with a tidal wave of “hipsters”.   

Daughter and Wing Man at Their New Restaurant Last Night

She and Wing Man have their hearts set on moving to California.  We’d be a lot more upset at the distance involved if they didn’t dangle the prospect of grandchildren as inducement.  I’m not so sure about the California thing despite the fact that I’ve loved every visit I’ve made there (San Francisco remains one of my favorite cities of all time).  It seems if there isn’t a drought, there’s a wild fire, or mudslide or earthquake where the whole thing falls into the ocean.  Nature’s attack yesterday on the pretentious wine crowd is the latest example.