The Zinfandinis and the World Cup

Ooooh it's nice. Hot. Nice. Hot. Nice and Hot. Hot and Nice.

Saint Plotniko's summer is almost over. Soon it will be Jufog, and then Fogust and SepFogber. Towards the end of Fogtober summer should return for a few weeks.

Yesterday it was hot here and hot in Marin, where Plot and Duck went to the Zinfandini household for the usual glut of wine and great food.

The Z's served Plot and Duck a rosé that Plotnik the Wine Snob actually liked! It's from a winery called Thumbprint in Healdsburg. It was delicious with the stuffed heirloom tomatoes with brown rice, mint and feta that Duck brought up. The Z's have also discovered an Italian bakery/gelateria in Larkspur where they make some of the best Italian cookies Plotnik has tasted since the Apple, as well as gelatos that make Fee Monster happy, though here she is sucking on a home made popsicle. Sophia is seven and is going to be as tall like her dad.



Now, about The World Cup.



It'a like the Celestine Prophesy. Just because gajillions of other people around the world think it's exciting, even if it's a runaway popular hit, doesn't make it worth two snoots of a beaver's butt.

Zero to Zero? Fun to watch? One to One? Astonishing? Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam. At least they're actually DOING something.

Every taqueria in town has a TV blaring. Thank goodness for silent, calm Marin which is its own country. Karen ran into a woman recently who has two kids and two nannies, one for each child. Yikes.