Tijuana time

This will not be profound. Well, I guess I've already established that with my previous entries.

One pickle jar, small; one empty bleach bottle; a half empty oil container; a very unfashionable charcoal-colored coat, size ... I'm not looking that closely. These are not items that I put on today's shopping list. These are items that I picked up from entangled brush and weeds near the Mexico border as a contributing hand at today's Surfrider.org's "No B.S." clean up project in the Tijuana River Valley. I was late. I was militant. There were no porta-potties. I had issues. I had to leave early. I helped some. I made a dent, a difference.

I'm off to show my grandson penguins. At four months old he is now aware. I am in love with this fuzzy warm little baby. He's on my lap now. He is eating my hand and curling his pink toes.

Trash-picking in TJ has pumped me up. Burger King at Interstate 5 N, let me use their restroom. All things are cleaning up around San Diego. The freeway will be nuts as always. I wish everyone drove slow. This is why I walk - it's slow.

Penguins are slow. Time means everything to me.