I have begun to develop a couple of hypotheses of what is happening to the sunshine that we are so feverishly chasing.

First Hypothesis: I have plotted the location of the San Andreas Fault here in California, and we are on the Pacific Plate. We were at Bodega Bay, again at Gilroy and now even at Morro Bay. I suspect that we have silently and without so much as rattling the dishes slipped up to a spot just off Tatoosh Island in Washington.

Second Hypothesis: One of our Oregon friends secretly wired a homing beacon under our bumper. This beacon sends out invisible energy rays that suck the rain clouds to where ever we are. It works best whenever we park for a few days.

Third Hypothesis: There was so much hot air expended during the last election that it has blasted a hole in the ozone layer over the whole country. We were all taught in science 101 that nature abhors a vacuum, so all of this rain is funneling through the western part of the country to backfill that hole.

Over the past two days, I have cleaned up all of the audio files on my computer. Weeded out all of the evil cookies lurking on my hard drive and then de-fragged the whole thing. I have practiced guitar until my fingers are numb.

We finally decided to suit up in our ducky suits and walked about a mile to the grocery store. We were not in danger of starving yet, but it got us out of the cabin. When we returned we were pretty well soaked, so we decided we should go out and fly the new kite. We noticed that as we approached the beach, the wind became decidedly stronger and the rain became more horizontal. By now I figured we are pretty well committed. It’s not like we are going to get any wetter. I unrolled the kite strings, and Judy held the kite as steady as she could. I got my wrists through the straps and took a deep breath. I did study the wind a moment and decided that it was blowing somewhat inland, and not out to sea. This is a plus, in case I find I have a tiger by the tail; at least I won’t have to learn to surf too.

With a nod of my head I signaled Judy to release the kite. To my delight it roared directly up to the zenith point right over my head and floated there as quiet as a soaring sea gull, riding the winds. I tugged on one of the control lines and sent the kite into a power dive. I turned a square corner just before burying its nose in the sand and it made a wonderful roaring sound as it ripped around to my left. I did a few low passes across the wind in front of me, and my heels carved some short furrows in the sand with every pass. To catch my breath I just had to glide back to the top of the arch and let the kite float quietly. I could do spins and swoops in every direction. This kite just loves to dance.

After about 15 minutes the rain became intolerable, so I had Judy move around to my side, and just about on the radius of the control lines. With the kite at the zenith, I gently floated it over to the side where Judy waited and dropped the kite right in her hands. This is heady stuff indeed. Kite flying was never like this when I was a kid.

We didn’t get a picture of this flying session, but I will put one of us flying the kite under the Golden Gate bridge on the web site. Our family built four of these kites for Christmas. You can check the December 28th blog, “Go Fly a Kite” for a review of how we built the kites. Yes, we can send you a pattern and parts list if you want to do this too.

Oh and don’t be afraid to get out of the cabin and get a little wet.

All our love, Gary and Judy