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He looked in the garden, looked in all the windows of the cottage, looked in the half barn. Someone must have tipped him off to the marijuana plants. And we thought we knew who it was. So I pulled them just in the nick. Never heard anything more about it. Sold it all to the grandson.
The summers were hot in Saint Helena, getting over a hundred degrees in the afternoon. Fortunately we had the river. It was cool there and we could swim. I liked looking for Indian tools especially. Spent a lot of time with Phy at the river. In the mornings we would often go to the river shore next to the highway bridge. He would be on his tricycle and I would push him with a forked stick from behind. That was down the quarter mile gravel drive, and then left and another quarter mile along the blacktop. There was a wide and long beach there with deep and shallow pools and glittering stone water washes.
In the hot afternoons, we would walk directly east across a field thru the strip of woods adjoining the river. It was usually ten degrees cooler there, had a sandy beach, no real swimming hole, but lots of beautiful wading pools deep enough to get wet. We would skip stones and such. I taught Phy to ride a two wheeler when he was three, by running along with him holding him up by his jacket collar. This was before he was old enough to be able to explain to him how to use the brakes. It wasn't necessary accept for one time he got away from me on a mild incline in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco on a visit. He took a pretty good fall.
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