What's a Xmas holiday without a bit of shopping in a gold mining town with a lunch box full of turkey sandwiches and homemade chocolate chip cookies, Sees, and oh yeah - apples.  Don't remember if we ate the apples.  Old Highway 49 that skirts the lower Sierras is so vintage Victorian, cowgirlish western, road trip dripping, Disneyland facade of false authenticity.  I bet anyone who steps into a creek to shovel some stones around would have the butt of a shotgun behind the ear in no time.  The hills are heavily populated given the traffic on a Sunday afternoon.  No doubt the ground is still giving it up although no one talks too much about that.  I would love to read about the history of gold - just how much has come from where and who has it now or where did it sink waiting to be discovered again.  There are two miners in my family.  I have some small treasures from their exploits - locked in safe deposit box of coarse just in case anyone tries to scope me out . . . .

Well - must get up and make my way up a local mountain and work off my holiday pounds.  Have a splendid New Year Celebration everyone.  And many good days after that as well.