JimDear and I finally got our Anniversary Trip this weekend, which this year found us at Clockwork Alchemy, a steampunk convention and celebration where the gang in the Treehouse of Solitude (of whom more later) had committed to some readings and panel appearances, sharing our expertise in various things Victorian . We could have taken the coast road up the 101 straight to San Jose, but we weren't in a hurry. It was a vacation! So instead we headed up the 5 following the route of the pioneers, the Judds, and which the merry bands of costumed weirdos we call our friends have long traveled both the Northern Renaissance Faire and the Great Dickens Christmas Faire. Even the Grapervine has its charms, as long as it's not raining.
We cut across from the 5 to the 101 the other day on the road that runs past Casa de Fruta. Didn't stop there, but eventually hit the length of Ferguson Road with a fruit stand every couple miles or less and pulled in for cherries. Ripe, deep red, looked like they were polished by cool rivers cherries that tasted just as good as they looked. As you can imagine, they were mostly gone by the time we headed home so we stopped again on the way back even though the nice British lady on the GPS encouraged us to take the 101 straight home. No Santa Rosa plums, I fear. I even remembered to ask specifically, based on repeated recommendations from my friend Kathleen Bartholomew. We got a big bag of salt water taffy instead. And more cherries.
Today is a holiday. We have to return the rented car, do some laundry, and make a stab at some kind of tidying of the post-faire and apparent;y post-apocalyptic mess that is our apartment. I have to write, too. I do not expect the cherries to last the day.
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