It's mid-December and I once again find myself in the East Bay of California. This time of year people wear shorts and shirt-sleeves; they take their children to playgrounds after school even at four PM, which I do with my grandson today. They ride bikes; they stroll through vineyards. Back in Wyoming a storm dumps snow that turns to ice on the sidewalks; here, we enjoy balmy weather. My grandson and I put a pant into the ground before his father and I went to Farmer's Market where even now ...
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