Lost to madness and debauchery? To an impromptu trip to Vegas that ended with a near-arrest at the Neon Graveyard with a half-dozen Elvis impersonators, an aging showgirl and three German tourists? To that spot behind the dresser where the cat likes to put things? No, to Salmonella poisoning*.
We were going to spend this weekend out at the barn, in Bodega Bay, sipping wine, looking out at the ocean and listening to the distant sea lions and enjoying a few rare sunny summer days on the coast. But, thanks to my unfortunate encounter with some tuna salad with homemade mayo, we've spent it sitting on the patio in San Mateo, sipping mint water, looking out at the Wheel Works and listening to the truck motors left running by old guys going in to the American/Vietnamese market to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets.
It hasn't been all bad. (At least, since the excruciating stomach pain stopped. That was nothing but bad.) Cameron is an excellent caretaker of the sick and delicate, and it turns out that Columbo mysteries on Netflix streaming are exactly what you want to watch when you aren't feeling up to much of anything. Plus, we didn't have to pack, or get stuck in traffic, or any of that other annoying vacation stuff. So, really, what am I complaining about?
Oh, right, Salmonella poisoning.
*I'll spare you the details, because I like you, and just say that I am happy to be up and about and eating again, if not in quite the quantities I am accustomed to. Also, I think I'm going to lay off the mayonnaise for a while.
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