We headed up to Sonoma for wine and fun. Jeremy got a tape adapter for Hedwig’s tune-o-tron, and he played me what’s called around these parts The Music The Young People Listen To: The Love Below/Speakerboxx, by Outkast. This album deserves to be better known! I got to the vineyard all jiggy wid it, and informed my friends that I wanted to see them on their baddest behaviour, and that they should give me some sugar, because I was their neighbour.

Replenished our cellar of Adastra wines; the 2001 chardonnay and the 2000 merlot, which for some weird-ass synesthetic reason tastes dark blue to me. Delicious, anyhoo. Off to The Girl and The Fig for a rowdy banquet, complete with glares from shocked locals. Claire greatly enjoyed her kale and pumpkin gratin, Jeremy loved the artichokes with his grouper and I inhaled mussels and a rack of lamb, as is my wont. The party wound on to a nearby bar but ended up in our room. Claire held court until she was tired and overwhelmed; then she cried until she had chased all the people away; then she cried because all her people were gone.

This morning we showed her the playground and the duck pond in Sonoma’s main square, then meandered down 116 and 101 listening to Lemonjelly’s Lost Horizons. It was a gorgeous weekend: we saw rabbits and ducklings and a hunting hawk. But the single thing I saw that made me happiest was back in San Francisco: it was the line of people queued around the corner of City Hall waiting to get married. Happy weddings, everyone.

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