Barefoot on the beach at Christmastime
I like to go to the beach at Christmastime. I don’t call my friends in New York and Montana to rub it in anymore, though. I’ve grown up a bit.
It wasn’t that warm out anyway. I had to go back to the car and get my sweatshirt and give it to Juju. For why? Because I’m the man, and when there’s only one warm thing to wear, the woman gets it.
Also because I didn’t see her sweatshirt in the backseat.
Palm frond reindeer
Somebody puts these up along Pierpont down by the beach in Ventura every year. Well, not every year. I think they weren’t up last year, or maybe the year before.
A few years back they were just googly eyes and red foam clown noses, and there were maybe a dozen of them. They’re fancier this year, but not so many.
I like the peace sign.
Henry and Farley at the beach
We took the boys to the beach as well. Who’s happier than a dog at the beach? Beats me.
