LIKE MY MOMMA SAID, I'M BUSIER THAN A CAT TRYIN' TO COVER UP SHIT ON A TIN ROOF.

Boy howdy, this here big city living tends to fill up yer day purty damn quick.  Yesterday (Saturday) I jumped up around 6 o’clock so I could hose off, get dressed and get down to the bus stop in time to catch the 71 headed for the Santa Cruz Flea market.  Now I don’t know about you, but when I hear the words “flea market” I immediately thing more along the lines of a full set of vintage dishes for a buck and a half and not so much in the realm of $3 for a used ice cube tray or 2 for $5… apparently the only reason I haven’t gotten fleas here is because they can afford a higher rent district than I can.  Since I didn’t need any used tools or baby clothes that was pretty much of a bust and I caught the bus back to the casa where I routed out sleeping beauty on her day off by tempting her with breakfast at Café Brasil.  She leapt at the chance (both figuratively and literally) and there we were looking for parking where there was none.  Hike a couple of short blocks and we were waiting for a table just like any good place to eat. Short wait, really good breakfast, waddle back to the car, a left turn and we were headed for the Boardwalk area.  Oops, look.  It’s a free muscle car show in front of the boardwalk and, lookie there, a parking space just opened up.  Stroll, gawk, look, listen and wonder how much that paint job cost and how much to chrome everything in the engine compartment… Fun but time to give our space to the hovering parking vultures and wander down to the bottom of Capitola Avenue for a walk along Soquel Creek to show Tama some cool, funky houses that Lance showed me last week.  That was fun, boy I’m kinda thirsty, hey look a coffee shop, damn… look at them pastries, whouldja?

So now we are headed home for a bit of a rest and Tama says, “Turn left instead and I will show you my favorite antique shop.” We head away from the house and roll into Echo Eclec-tibles.  Just the place if you should happen to need, oh, say, a 12 foot, 3-D slice of an orange or a box of wooden shoe stretchers.  Of course, while there, the owner insists that we need to motor up the coast to check out the monstrous dead whale just north of Davenport.  Well, there goes the nap idea and off we go whale watching/smelling (see post below)

Now that adventure puts us back into town just in time to meet up with a new friend of Tama’s so they can go off on an artist’s studio tour.

An hour later and we all meet up again for the first annual Santa Cruz Sausage and Beer Festival.  So those of you who missed me at the Brewfest in la Quince can rest assured that I was toasting you from afar.  You had to pay for the beer but it was in big boy glasses and it was free to get in so I figured out that I saved three bucks overall.  There was a good, serious Rockabilly band and all it needed was people I knew.

No doubt about it. I gotta stop reading the weekly events newspaper if I’m ever gonna get any rest.