Of course, who wants to look at Mitt Romney's mug any morning? But lately he's been there. Perhaps not much longer if I read the election results correctly.
On the other hand, down here where surfers get sunburns, it is fun to see what's going on out at Mavericks, where surfers might get a case of hypothermia, instead.
At Maverick's, where the waves are in control
A wave like the one in the photo above might be seen around here - but only in the summer with a hurricane waiting behind it.
The Admiral and I took another Death March, er, I mean walking tour, of some of the higher elevation properties this morning, ending up down at sea level in the village where we stopped to buy a half-kilo of fresh-cooked tortillas (45 cents), vegetables, fruit, bread and cat food at a small tienda ($1.80) -- and some freshly squeezed grapefruit and orange juice from a juice stand (90 cents).
Cat food? Yes, a couple of neighborhood cats have adopted us and are waiting outside the front door every morning. So far, they haven't started howling for food before dawn.
That's next. I've had a lot of cats.
Tonight is Dylan's last night with us before flying back to his high-finance job in the Bay Area. On tap is a send-off dinner at Martine's Restaurant, where the margaritas are superb (read: industrial strength) and the food rivals anything in San Francisco.
A full report on that tomorrow, depending on the strength of the tonight's cocktails.
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