Toy Boy

We are back from Tahoe fresh and rosy after a delightful two-day shoot, staying on the lakeside which spookily was my fantasy last Christmas. We even had fun! I really like Earlene and Jim, and we met Inge and Michael again, and Belinda and I went for a four-mile walk to um, Starbucks and back....okay okay, not exactly a mountain hike! Stefan took a lot of photos with his new camera, murmuring appreciatively all the while, and the cherry on the cake of his new toys was a Magellan GPS from Burton, which absorbed all his driving time on the four hours back, even when I was at the wheel. It is quite extraordinary that it can tell where we are, altitude, orientation, speed, and of course there is a lot of simple humour to be had by arguing with the voice of sweet reason or even Disobeying. Oh Ha Ha Ha. It is a sad day when I aspire to be as well-tempered as my appliances.

It was a spectacular drive down from the mountains, bright blue sky, sparkling snow and photogenic trees, then rounded bald brown hills that reminded me of Picasso's head and made me brood on testosterone - if ever hills were laden with it these are they. Then into Teletubby land covered with impossible green velvet, then flatlands with orchards and eventually quiet marsh, with birds. As we bucketted down the highway in the hinterland of Point Molate we got our first glimpse of the bay, sparkling water, low mist outlining every fold of hills standing one range behind the other, up to Mount Tam, and our own familiar islands so close yet so glamorous that I saw them anew.

We were listening to XM radio all the way, singing along to Number One Hits of the Sixties, every one of them familiar of course, but when it came to February 1963 they played Telstar and I became actually tearful, reliving the excitement of that far-off, innocent time, the first satellite remembered as we listen to music courtesy of satellites, and even navigate our way courtesy of satellites, eleven of them.

I feel very good about 2007. God bless us one and all.