It should be a kapporah...

Lovely to be back in the SF Bay area - my native home. There is something about the smell of the place that usually makes me feel a sense of immediate calm when I hit the ground. However, that precludes skunks. And skunks we have. Fortunately, I was able to head the dog off at the pass before she went out and confronted the stinky beast (reminds me that "skunk" is "stinkdyr" - "dyr" being "animal" - in Norwegian) and I had to give her yet another bath in a mixture of Dawn, hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. But the smell is, shall we say, pungent.

This is just the capper to a day that had me tripping over a non-attatched downspout hose - it won't rain enough to need one for at least three months - trying to take out garbage for my friends who are now up in the Sierras. Then the door locked behind me. I distinctly remembered unlocking and testing the door. But my distinct memory was no help to me standing outside looking in at the dog.

Fortunately, I remembered that their neighbors down the street had an extra key. I even remembered their names. But this was little help as said neighbors were themselves in Yellowstone and housesitting friend Kary had no idea where the extra keys were. But he was decent enough to get me a phone book and a phone and within a half hour Mr. Suh was opening up the back door and facing the wrath of Genevieve the Fierce.It should only be a kapporah.

On the positive side, I found no fewer than three excellent straw hat forms, at Lacis and as the abrupt German owner had gone to her ultimate reward, I didn't have to contend with her. The hats are big enough even to fit my monster cranium and easily decorated. It's a bit late for this season, but at least I won't have to sweat through another summer with only one decent hat. I keep thinking that I should have gotten a white one and a green one... Genug for one day, though.