Whew! Where to start? I left home early Wednesday and drove up to the Sierras with my son Evan to meet with the star of our tiny homes book, a world champion snowboarder who has built a most incredible house in the wilderness. We had been struggling with the layout -- a huge number of great photos -- and lo and behold, our builder had done stunning layouts, 10 pages in all, of his creation and its spectacular mountain surroundings. Yes!
This book has its own life. It's like a living organism right now, changing and assembling itself. We're just there to help. No kidding. It started slowly, and now it's roaring along like a locomotive. Stuff is pouring in. We're already beyond our (224) page count, and it's obvious this is going to be a series (we've got tons of material for another book). It won't be out until February -- such is the reality of our slow production process and the logistics of printing and shipping from overseas.
Then back from the Sierras through the heat of the Sacramento Valley. In Auburn we stopped to shoot photos at a place that sold a variety of Teardrop trailers (popular in the 40s-50s, being rediscovered now). In Fairfield I dropped Evan off at his car, and proceeded westward to the coast. By the time I got to the Russian River, there was a cool freshness in the air, and I drove along the river out to its mouth at Jenner, then headed north in the night along the foggy coast.
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The planets must have been favorable yesterday, because everything was right. Things were popping. The wind came up and blew the fog away and it was warm, but not hot. A guy came into Trinks while I was MacBooking away, and lo and lo and behold again, it's Joe Bacon, the guy who typeset our book Shelter in 1973. Joe's a raconteur with 1000 funny stories, and we had a spirited conversation.
Eight of us had dinner in the pub down at the pier. We sat out on the deck looking out at the ocean. It was warm and balmy. Just a goddam good day...