Top Ten Most Popular Posts on Left Coast Cowboys During Jan 2009

At 8AM the call came in and I sprang into action. I was Plan B. My friends Rob and Susi were having a baby. Plan A was “Dad assists in the delivery room”. But after several shaky childbirth classes, it was decided there should be a Plan B, also known as “Sixties Dad Plan”. That’s the plan where the woman does the work with trained professionals and the dad paces the waiting room, maybe nipping out for a quick Scotch and a smoke.

So yesterday I was shamelessly pimping for votes for the Ninth Annual Weblog Awards, The 2009 Bloggies. Today, I’ve sunk even further. I found out the Blogger’s Choice Awards were accepting nominations. Having no shame at this point, I nominated myself. Went out for the day and came back to dozens of hits on my site directly from the Blogger’s Choice site.

Aw, yes. Resolutions. I have to make them this year and, of course, the old “lose weight and get in shape” one is topping the list. We all know it’s much easier to accomplish when you have a partner. But it doesn’t work very well in a house with an Englishman.Me: We need to get in shape this year.Andy: Great, I’m right there with you.

Last week I lost a friend. Between the time that I wrote that first line and when I was able to resume was about half an hour. I spent the time staring at my screen and wondering how to write this post. In fact, it’s taken me more than a week to attempt it.You see, my friend was someone I’d never met in person.

A friend of mine died last week. I should clarify that this was someone who used to be the closest of friends. That friendship ended long before his life did. And that’s been troubling me all this week. How do you honor and acknowledge the death of a friend when the friendship died years ago?The short-form version of the story: this friend, who I’ll call B, was someone my husband and I knew and were close to for nearly twenty years.

 I’ve had some pretty heavy posts recently. Let’s lighten it up. And there’s nothing funnier than the weird shit I’m now pulling out of my kitchen. You see, we’ve lived in our San Francisco house for more than 20 years and I’m doing the once-every-few-decades complete clean-out. This weekend was the kitchen, a project that threatens to continue throughout the week. Or maybe never end.

Over a year ago, just when I started blogging, I got involved with a Flickr group called Project365. It’s a collection of users of the on-line photo posting group, from all over the world and of all different photographic skill levels, who commit to taking and posting one picture a day for a full calendar year. Now, heading into my second year of the project (you can start at any time), I have to say the project was transformative in more ways than I could have imagined.

Our weather in Northern California is possibly even scarier. We’re now in our second extended period of record high, sunny weather since mid-December. It wasn’t much different than sunny and dry last month either. The Sierra snowpack that is our water lifeline is barely 60% of normal. This has been a long time coming. I remember when I moved here over 20 years ago, it was routine to ski over Thanksgiving break.

Even after more than twenty years living in San Francisco, I’m still astounded at the great beauty of all the natural and open spaces we have just in this City (not to mention the many more just outside City limits.) I was struck anew when I took two stir-crazy dogs out today to Crissey Field on the Bay side of the Golden Gate for some much needed exercise.

The last election already proved that voting can shake things up and change the status quo. Now, I’m calling on you to do it again.Yes, the Ninth Annual Weblog Awards, The 2009 Bloggies, are now accepting nominations. You know you’ve been coming to this site for a glimpse of the World’s Most Beautiful Baby, to follow the antics of the Wonder Terriers, to find obscure Christmas tunes and, in general, to learn what not to do when attempting organic farming, bio-dynamic wine making and Green Acres style “city slicker to country bumpkin” type life changes.