Dear Friends,
I went to the dentist in Rocklin, 25 minutes away, and to reward myself, after the appointment I kept on driving for an hour more, ending up in Grass Valley with Zing. Finally I feel like exploring — even driving the hills. Until now I just couldn’t make myself do it. I was flattened by losing Clark, and that was one of the symptoms. He must have been astonished I was so backward.
Rocklin is a far suburb of Sacramento, and then it becomes rolling, hilly, country. I think people in Sacramento consider Grass Valley a getaway, with wine bars and art shops and restaurants. At the center of town there’s a piece of machinery from a gold mill, where gold ore (who has heard of gold ore? It’s dirt with gold in it.) was smashed to extract the good stuff. Zing and I didn’t exactly walk all over town, but it’s so small that it seemed that way. I picked up a meatball sandwich at the Italian deli, and the server told me there’s a significant Italian community in the hills.
Love,
k
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| Downtown Grass Valley |
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| So your car doesn't roll down the hill |
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| The tree that ate the house |
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| Pausing from uphill trot |
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| Upward dog: There's a yoga studio at the top of the stairs |
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