Rescued

Last week, while my aging automobile was being repaired at the dealership, my cousin Jan rescued me from the inane and insistent television they have installed in their waiting room and drove me out to Point Reyes Station for a late breakfast and a poke through the shops. 


(If I may be permitted a little rant here, what's with the TVs-in-every-bar-restaurant-and-waiting-room craze? Have we become a society where we must be entertained with visual images every single moment of the day? I was, quite literally, the only one who had a book to read - everyone else was either in thrall to the most obnoxious morning show it has ever been my displeasure to be subjected to, or on their cell phones talking loudly, or deeply engrossed in their smart phones, fingers flying over the keys. It pretty much defined "hell" for me.)


Okay, enough of that. 


The weather promised to be hot as blazes away from the coast, so PRS seemed like a good choice, situated as it is at the head of Tomales Bay. As you know, we are seriously tight for cash right now and the $900 repair estimate didn't make me feel good about buying anything in those shops. But Jan treated us to a nice breakfast at the Pinecone, complete with an indulgent mocha milkshake that we shared so as not to be utterly abandoned into gluttony, and checked out most of the little shops along the main street. 


As we went in to Toby's I noticed some gorgeously colorful bouquets for sale. Another time, I'd have bought one to bring home. As it was, I stopped to admire, drinking in all that color and those various shapes. Instead of buying them, I took their picture to share with you today.


Isn't summer a grand time of year to be rescued?