Last week while the usual Poetry Friday celebration was going on, I was driving down Hwy. 101, guessing at crops in the Salinas Valley fields, gawking at vast acres of new vineyards, and counting down the miles until I got to my old stomping grounds in California. Mark & I flew out of Memphis to San Jose last Thursday night (yawn), then drove south. A dear friend got married Saturday afternoon, and I tried to cram in as many of my favorite things as I could: visits with the Seely, Fields, and Costanzo families; eating at the Sea Shanty in …

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