Fog, Family and Farmstands

I took a break this past week – from work, from blogging and from San Diego. I basically took time off from everything except running, which I managed to do as scheduled on all but one day. Some mornings felt forced, and one run at 9 on a really hot Monday just felt plain wrong. I must be back, though, because this morning's 8-miler through Santaluz was sublime. Midweek we drove for hours (and hours and hours...) over a few rivers and through scorched woods to spend Thanksgiving at my grandmother’s house. She’s a longtime resident of a place called Paradise and, after taking the scenic route for a change, I had to admit the area might live up to its moniker. The vistas along the gorges on Neal Road were brilliant after driving all morning through fog, and the colorful foliage hugging the twisty two-lane roads once we hit town made me pine for New England again. This really felt like a classic Thanksgiving. My grandmother, 94, lives alone in a tidy three-room house that’s perfe