I had the afternoon to myself as my wife took the girls up to Napa Valley, so I figured I’d ride my bike to the nearest park with a disc golf course. It turns out that the nearest one is over twelve miles away, but what the hell, I had a full afternoon and I planned a stop midway at the Gordon Biersch brewery to tip back a few pints.

Melissa and Angelina are visiting us this week, but did not have the courtesy to bring our dog. I’ll let it slide this time, but next time I’d make a plea that our peers popping in pack Piper in a pre-approved package on the plane. It’s just common courtesy. We’ve dragged them to the beach, over some winding, vomit-inducing hills, into some unknown wineries, and eventually up into San Francisco. We get a smug satisfaction when people visit now, because it makes us look soooo cool because we’re experts on everything.

We went up to Lake Tahoe for a few days with Jen’s parents, squeezing all four of us into the most practical car ever, their rental Mustang.Not the most family friendly car They got the Mustang as an upgrade because all the normal cars were sold out. Hey, I would have taken the Mustang too, so I’m not blaming anybody. And it actually sat all four of us. There were tiny seats in the back which forced your body into the shape of the letter C, which makes for a slightly uncomfortable four hour drive into the mountains.

We went up to Napa. Again. This time we dragged along Jen’s parents and went to an ever-so-delightful little bed and breakfast right in town. One of the places we visited this time was Castello di Amorosa, which, for those playing the home version of the game, means Castle of Love. Rawr. It was an actual castle. Some rich dude with an inferiority complex started building it in 1993, yes 1993, hauling a bunch of real bricks and stones from ancient European castles and rebuilding it right here in Napa.

Jen was working last night so I tooled around town on my bicycle like a little punk kid. I swung into the main park in Santa Clara and they had a rockabilly band playing in the courtyard so I stopped in for a few minutes. The people-watching was more entertaining than the music. Up near the stage was an old drunk pirate hooker with a cane, dancing and yelling at everyone else in the crowd to get up and dance.

One of the fun things about having a blog here on WordPress is that you get to see the various search terms people use to find you. I’m not out to win a vast amount of readership with this thing, but apparently people are stumbling across my words of wisdom. I’m currently number 8 on the list if you google the phrase classy ads to market strip clubs on billboards Impressive, no?

Sunday marked the beginning of our tour guide time. We’re about halfway through our adventure, and Jen’s parents have come out to visit for a few weeks, followed by a few of Jen’s friends for another week, and then my brother and his wife in the first week of August. We’re now certified experts on the area, so ask us anything. Jen will play Tour Guide Barbie, and I’ll be just another douchebag with a smartphone, trying to show you cool places on the map, but always having trouble.

My mom called the other night to make sure I’m aware of the cataclysmic rain they’ve been having back home. Apparently Harold Camping was right and the end of the world is coming. Torrential downpours in West Michigan are surely a sign of impending doom. I haven’t heard anything about the house floating away or flooding, so I’m assuming it’s still standing. Meanwhile, in California, we’ve had a bit of a heat spell these last few days but otherwise, it’s been sunny and around 80 this whole time and for the foreseeable future.

Yesterday we spent the day in and around Muir Woods. Three years ago, we did the same day’s worth of hiking, starting at Muir Woods and ending up overlooking the Pacific Ocean near where the Dipsea Trail enters the woods going down to Deep Ravine. Only, three years ago, I asked Jen to be my wife. I know what you’re saying; awwww, that’s the sweetest thing. And you’re right. It was pretty freaking adorable.

I’ve been working from my apartment for over a month now, and have been generally keeping an Eastern Time Zone schedule while working from the west coast. I did this since day one so I’m used to it, but there are mornings when I get up around 3:00 am so I can work at 3:30 to coordinate with some deployments back home, because that’s how dedicated I am. More so than you.