Off the Beaten Path at Pt. Reyes and Taming a Fidgety Four-Year Old

Ticks freak me out, insidious little varmints, and yesterday as my friend Lin and I walked over hill and dale at Pt. Reyes we weren't on a trail, and  I kept thinking how easy it would be for a tick latch on to my jeans and take a ride with me while it tried to find bare skin.

(Not unprecedented:  A tick rode home across the country with me from Long Island to San Francisco four years ago, very annoying.)

But this was a wonderful, wind-blown walk, with countless wildflowers to look at, some so tiny you had to stop and really look.

My friend Elisabeth, who lives in nearby Inverness, told us where to go. (I'd pass it along to you, but then I'd have to kill you.  I can say that if you want to see wildflowers at Pt. Reyes right now, go to Chimney Rock or Abbott's Lagoon.)

Photos:

 

The view from where we parked:  the cluster of white buildings if Pierce Point Ranch, with  Tomales Bay in the distance

 

 

 

A plethora of poppies, but lots of tiny wildflowers, too.

Native irises, poppies, and yarrow

 

 

A view of Elephant Rock (see the trunk in the water?)

Lin taking a picture

 



We got back to the car, inspected our socks and pants and legs, didn't find any ticks hitching a ride, and drove back to Pt. Reyes Station where we ate dunbars from the Bovine Bakery. A splendid day.

* * * * *

 

On Saturday, Mr. Adorable came for a visit.  Now four years old, he has a striking vocabulary, knows a mail carrier from a mailman, and says "Oh, my God," when he's surprised.

 

But his hair was needing some attention, his Auntie Claudia and I decided, because he had a decided mullet. 

 

So we took him to a hair salon near my house, and coaxed him into enduring a haircut by the nicest woman on the planet, Monica.  He wriggled.  He protested.  He'd have nothing to do with the shampoo bowl, and WHY did he have to wear the cape? (I tried to tell him it was like Batman's: no go.)

 

At the end, he looked, of course, adorable,  even if he wouldn't submit to a blow-dry.  Now he looks like someone in an ad for wealth management or maybe one for Ralph Lauren:

 

 

 

 

Does it get any more adorable?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note my hand holding down his.  Lots of obstreperousness.  I finally had to bribe him to be still by telling him he could take a picture of me.  Which I'm not going to publish.