Sunday Evening

It feels late because I put a film on at 5:30 but it is only 8:30, and Felix showed me how to scan so we have added a picture to Mucking About, I showed him how to make chocolate sauce, and now I feel vaguely hungry although we have already eaten. People eat so early here!

Last night was a private dinner for sixty at the Yellow Bordello, don't know why so called, it didn't look yellow to me. It has also been a Catholic school, a boarding house and a Sufi commune, four storeys up a steep hill, deep porches and wonderful rooms panelled and coffered in redwood. Seven fantastic courses, rillettes, wild candy-cap bisque, salad, duck ravioli, pheasant, Niman Ranch steak, lavender xocolate so good I should spell it like that evermore.

I showed him how to make xocolate sauce. Much better.

Ed was the chef and he surpassed himself, and I enjoyed the people at our table but most of all I enjoyed that it was surprising, another facet of San Rafael which I could never have suspected.

This afternoon I searched unsuccessfully for chaenomeles japonica 'Pink Lady' for the last barrel, a happy quest because I will get there eventually. I am fired up to do more gardening, move my hangdog New Dawn from the water's edge and the sunstarved Thompson's grape to a better position. I don't think I can trust it to cover the east side of the house, I need something very robust, maybe virginia creeper? I really have no mentor on conditions here. I would love someone to talk gardening with here.

I have finished Dalva by Jim Harrison and will take a while to let it settle. I can't imagine being happier than sitting up in bed with the sun rising over the water and reflecting over the ceilings and walls, ducks and birds quite raucous outside, Suscipe curled at my side, the air fresh and cool, hot tea, good book, and the day ahead.