Just So Rough

creekside

Today we drove back slowly down from Booneville to Santa Rosa after four of the most relaxing days I think we’ve ever spent.

RELAXING is an understatement.  The most strenuous task we undertook was all that arduous lifting of the wine glasses to our lips at the vineyards.

Oh, and the even more strenuous hoisting and lobbing of rocks — for hours, I tell you — into what Tau dubbed “The Cool Creek,” a tiny stream that ran just next to our private little cottage, one of just a handful on 400 acres.

The rest of the time, we slept in late and read, we baked brownies, we made a swinging fort in the hammock (add one blanket, and presto!). And yes, we watched Iron Chef reruns, Sue’s brain-candy thing to do when we stay somewhere with TV.

Et cetera, et cetera, you get the picture.

A small set of pictures of the rock throwing and the vegging is here — just so rough to have to lift your arm constantly to take all those photos.

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