The Gray Zone

It’s Thursday night in San Francisco, and my neighborhood is doing that fog thing. While other parts of the country are baking, we’ve got fog spit slapping the branches of the trees outside. My weekend begins in this fluffy gray zone. I love it.

The Russian River area has a softball tournament that begins Saturday, but my brain is already feeling the off-season. It’s time for a break. I know it’s hard to believe, but even I can burn out on softball. Upon unpacking from the Seattle softball tournament, I felt hibernation ready. I don’t mind planning stuff for the future, but right now, it’s husband, dog, and my time.

Seattle is a great city to visit in July. We took a side trip to Bainbridge Island, which was a pleasant surprise. The island has such a quaint small-town feel that you forget you were ever in Seattle. We walked up and down its main street (Coppertop Loop) and stopped at Fletcher’s Bay Winery to sample a flight of wine.

Back on proper cement, the rest of the weekend played out as it generally does, with lots of group meals and softball games. There was also an early flight back to SF on Monday that has me questioning my flight choices. Anyhow the result of all this was a tired softball player. I’m ready to lay in a hammock and have somebody rock me to sleep for a few months.

When my coach sent out an APB for a few softball teams looking for players this weekend, my response was sincere: “I wish them all the best…goodnight.” They will find people, the show must go on, and it will for me in a few months or so, but for now, I want to float on this gray matter and drift along the dream bank.

The view from the ferry to Bainbridge Island.