Picnic Time

My aunt is going back to Pennsylvania on Thursday so we had a little picnic in the park with her. It was fun and despite convulsive screams at the swarm of meat bees we attracted it was very relaxing. The park has a plethora of birds, all with bad manners who beg for food. This young man met us at our car as we drove up. 

 

We were just sitting, feeding the chickens when I turned around and literally came face to face with this guy. We fed him some chips, I felt bad about clogging his arteries. 

He ate out of my hand! I thought for sure I'd loose a finger. 

To walk off the chips from lunch, we took a stroll around old town. My aunts pounced on the antique stores, I pounced on the art galleries (complete with coffee bar). The first antique store we went to was packed to the ceiling with junk treasures to behold. I liked this little corner, though. When I think of California history this is the sort of image that comes to mind. Rusty tools, gold pans, old leather straps, musty smell. Haaaaaa, history. Gotta love it.