Living the good life

We don’t own a vacation house; never wanted one.  Besides the expense, just maintaining one house takes enough energy: trying to keep two houses in good repair would be a full time job.  As well, we don’t want to feel that we are obligated to spend our time at just one particular location, there’s a lot of world to go see.

Still, it’s nice to spend a weekend in a big house by the ocean, so once a year or so we rent a place that somebody else has to worry about.  This weekend we are at Stinson Beach, in a very nice, albeit strangely decorated, home right on the lagoon. Even after 50 years in this area, I didn’t know that there was a lagoon here, and it turns out to be a perfect place to relax.

This magnificent barn is the beach house of somebody really, really rich.
  • Looking down the lagoon.
    I like the formal lines of this house. I like the color. I hate the bright red alarm bell mounted on the wall–inside a gated community, on the water side of the house, who do they think they are going to frighten off with that ugly bell?

    Vacation rentals from the holiday bungalows in sri lanka usually come with a good selection of the appropriate toys–in this case there are two kayaks on the dock behind the house.  These things have improved since I went to Boy Scout camp–they are made of plastic, weigh almost nothing, and are completely unsinkable.  So much so that they have holes in the bottom to let any water that gets splashed in drain out, which you are kayaking.  I couldn’t resist trying one out in the perfectly calm, protected waters of the lagoon.

    Can’t get more macho and outdoorsy than this. Photo by Gail
    These bushes are growing on a vacant lot, although they look to be perfectly manicured I think this is their natural condition. The large on in the middle is at least 20 feet tall.
    This “wall” is a giant hedge, perfectly trimmed over many years into this shape. Just the sort of maintenance I don’t want to be doing.

    The Seadrift beach community, where this house is located, is a long spit of land which reaches very close to the community of Bolinas.  I’m told that at extremely low tides you can actually walk across.  If you want to drive, it’s about 8 miles back towards Stinson Beach, around the lagoon and then out to Bolinas.

    You had best know where you are going, too, because there is no sign indication where to turn off Highway 1.  The citizens of Bolinas don’t want tourists, and took the sign down off the Highway so often that Caltrans gave up and no longer bothers trying to erect one.  If you don’t know where Bolinas is, you won’t get there.  It’s damn near like Brigadoon.

    This all comes up because that’s where we went for lunch today, but I’ve been there before.  They were in the middle of their Food Festival, so there was no parking in the tiny town and we had to park next to the Fire house and take a shuttle.  It let us off in the town gas station.

    Living out at the edge of nowhere has its price, literally.

    The 60’s never died, they are just holed up in Bolinas.  I haven’t seen so many long haired freaky people since the movie Woodstock came out.  The worst job in town is being the Romney campaign organizer. The little town is fascinating.

    They have a very nice museum, which has 5 separate galleries–painting, sculpture, photography and one just for the history of the city.  That gallery even has a “Bolinas  2 Miles” sign, “liberated” from Caltrans.

    Outside the galleries, an artist who specializes in bird paintings has a hummingbird habitat with 9 separate hummingbird feeders.  There were just dozens of the little beauties, who have become very tame.  I was able to take this photo with just my little pocket camera.

    Somehow, nearly tame birds seem perfectly appropriate for Bolinas.

    Gail and the granddaughters are working on a 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle.  I’m taking photos and son-in-law Brad is barbecuing dinner.  This is the life.


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