Motel beds suck.

Stockton had the worst air quality yesterday. A little valley fog this morning but not bad.

A crop duster flew right over us yesterday, but I didn't even think to take a picture.

Holy cow! Gas is cheaper at home than in Marin. That NEVER happens!

I have the song "The Three Bells" stuck in my head.

Another weird concept to me: a life so predictable you can write a song about how it ends.

Most of my pizza comes from Papa Murphy's.