I'm back from San Francisco, the incredibly shrinking show. State of the antiques business everywhere is bleak, millennials have just passed the boomers in number and they just aren't into the past thing. Or much of anything, really. Older set is no longer buying but I hear the same refrain everywhere, the kids don't want the stuff, which presents a problem for some wonderful collections whose value is now quickly depreciating in direct proportion with the lack of interest.
I eked out a few bucks to cover expenses and cost of goods. I was promised a Thomas Hart Benton print that never materialized. Bought some nicknacks. Got real sick. Bronchitis. Didn't eat or sleep for a couple days. Technicolor expectorant machine. Could hardly walk to my van. Don't know how I packed out, let alone made it home today. Drove all day, hightailed it to the office and paid my monthly dues a day late. I see antibiotics in my near future.
So no great meals to report. Couple bowls of soup. Last meal was at LeAnn's at the dreadful Red Roof Inn that I unfortunately stayed at. The udon stayed in my body about as long as it took me to get to my car, then sidewalk noodle surprise.
I made it to the fetid elevator, which stunk of nasty marijuana and cigarettes, and then it was a serious race to get the room door open for the porcelain reprise. Oh, joy. Funny, the doors at the Red Roof Inn, you need an engineering degree to figure out how to release the deadbolt and I was in no mood. Will write a nice Hotels.com review and post for you.
Besides that I have a doctor's visit scheduled and its awful nice to be home. I saw two small falcons on the way home, Leslie saw an oriole, baby owl, woodpecker and quail. Got big gopher holes to deal with this week in my garden. Ciao.