Lucy?! Someone’s got some ‘splaining to do. Sure, the original stole John Wayne’s footprints, not Gregory Peck‘s (Cal ’39) star, but I’d still check her alibi.

Pongo helped me get an early start this morning, making sure I saw the stars in the sky while he sniffed the bushes, then dragged me home so he could lick himself and I could watch a beautiful sunrise (the living room faces east over the canyon) while caffeinating.

Knocked out some quick legal (law practice, not the opposite of illegal) work at home, then made it down to the pool for a solo swim. I can’t overstate the wonderfulness of having a 25-yard pool to myself on these rare mornings. There are only a few regular morning lapswimmers here at the casa complex, and on a good day the timing works out for solo sessions for some or all. So laps were completed in solitude, then some time was invested to let the whirlpool’s jets pound on my back while the cloudless blue sky was contemplated a bit. Hawks circled over the canyon looking for prey and bubbles made me relax.

Back at home now. The Palm is syncing, the tree trimmers outside are chatting on their cellphones, and Morning Becomes Eclectic is playing over the iTunes “radio.” Fresh tea is ready, and I’m primed for some research and writing before a one o’clock appointment with a returning law client. It is a good morning.

Depriving one of the other Chucks of snacks. Doesn’t that silly man know that sometimes the best treats are raw and natural.

Tried out a new branch of my gym in La Jolla this morning (too small, lousy parking, no pool) but recovered the morning by taking a walk through the La Jolla’s downtown and down the coast.

At one of the overlooks off the Coast Walk I “didn’t see” a No Entry sign, and walked out on the cliffs, gradually making my way down while trying to get the right angle for a good shot of the La Jolla Caves. There was a No Cliff Diving sign too, but I ignored it. First off, the water was too cold for such a thing, and second, the prospect of trying to emulate the Acapulco cliffdivers with the current post-Thanksgiving bloat (thanks Mom!) was just to hideous to imagine. Harpoons could be launched, etc., at great risk to my dignity. A few seagulls and pelicans flapped away as I encroached, but nothing serious.

Then I heard a roar and saw a head stick up over the edge of the bluff. Sea Lions! I started walking a bit more slowly and kept my distance, circling around the head to figure out where he was. Turns out he and some friends were on a separate set of rocks separated from my vantage point by air and surf. No chance of direct contact unless they were magical flying sea lions. So I had a seat and watched them. One with his head up kept his eye on me. Two others were cuddling, with the occasional roar when someone’s flipper went where it wasn’t supposed to go. It looked as though they’d found the perfect spot were they were close to everything, but no one who could read signs could see them and bother them.

Nice way to wrap up a great Thanksgiving weekend. Still stuffed from a great dinner with the family on Thursday (and resulting leftovers), and been spending the rest of the weekend working on Chuck stuff. Some personal, a lot professional. Prepping for what appears to be imminent self-employment. Not wild about any of the options on the table right now, but ending my relationship with the cubedwellers appears both inevitable and for the best. I have to cut my losses, and I can’t really fully explore my options until I clear some conflicts of interest by cutting my ties to cubedom. Since I didn’t get canned for the comment a couple weeks ago about the Nepot, I don’t think they read this, but I’m still keeping some of the goals and plans quiet for now. Just thankful I have options.

Updating Coppermine at the Vista suburb this morning. Sorry for the ugliness that may appear during the work.

Love it when hunting becomes competitive. Y’all still won’t arm the bears, but they still get a dig in from time to time anyways. Go Yogi.

Last month I caught the UCSD and Utah dive teams, and pulled together a collage of some good bouncing. Now, from Digital Fog, bad bouncing. Play safe.

Is it wrong that my first reaction on hearing what’s probably my neighbor’s smoke detector was to turn up the volume on the music? And my second was to write this post? All right, time to find pants and see what the problem is.

UPDATE: Noise all gone now. Flames must have finally destroyed the unit.

“Quarantine” stations and massive databases on travelers. Looks like Homeland Security is finally getting competition in the race to be the most intrusive federal agency to the traveling public; let’s hear it for the newer, bigger, Centers for Disease Control. Never underestimate the imagination and determination of bureaucrats fighting for their share of the power pie.

Running late for the commute into the cube. Soon to be running even later thanks to this post. Just thinking about how my life will change when if I suddenly don’t didn’t have to subject myself to this every morning. Hmmm. Productivity. Less stress. Reduced car exhaust in my lungs. Makes one think.