A Wonderful, Dreadful Day

Today was an interesting mix of wonderful and dreadful. We met Travalon's cousin, who is 94 and delightful. She took us to lunch at an Italian restaurant, and, this being California, we all had kale pesto. We drove to the Stanford campus, which has a main drag lined with majestic palm trees, then another part looks like an Italian town square with a beautiful chapel. We took an incredibly scenic, windy road to Half Moon Bay and checked out the beach. Then we hung out in her lovely garden full of hummingbirds and ate fruit. That was all wonderful.

Now we are staying at a bed and breakfast run by a very snippy proprietress. Her husband was a little nicer, and he told us there was a restaurant a half mile away, but this despicable little town does not have any sidewalks, and then we had to dodge traffic on Highway 1 just to find out the restaurant had no room for us after we had spent the last half hour risking life and limb to get there. However, we got back to our car safely and drove to Half Moon Bay Brewpub, and that was fantastic. The couple at the next table were really friendly, and the waiter thought it was hilarious when I mentioned that I had posted about being there on social media, and it gave me choices for what I was doing there that included listening to a band play and - I kid you not - attending Sunday Mass, but not just, you know, drinking beer. He said that was a no-brainer, I should have chosen Sunday Mass. Who doesn't attend Sunday Mass on a Friday night at a brewpub, am I right?

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