Right now the whole thing is rimmed with wild mustard, and every time the dogs dash down into the depths on a Very Important Mission that has to do with national security and coyote poop, they come back covered in yellow.

On Maisie it looks just right, a sweet sprinkling of blossoms, like maybe she's the prom queen. And Jake somehow overcomes the fey factor, muscles through and manages to look handsome with a dab of mustard on his noble head.

The construction project is finally over and now it's this:

And I have no better answer than, why not, or, it rhymes. But really, the daisy is on Maisie's head just because it's fun to say.

But before you arrive, there's a wide and wild stretch of untouched coast, all windblown, wind-tossed shades of blue. It's California how it used to be, and now I'm thinking I should be showing you pix of that instead of this this field of artichokes. But the field was so strange, both sides of the highway, artichokes as far as the eye can see. And when you get out of the car, the humming of thousands of bees.

So next time, I'll show you that coastline. But right now it's big, green, spikey artichokes. With drawn butter, please, and some crusty French bread.

Seriously - makeup for men? Is this really going to catch on?

And yet they grew, and here they are now, big and blooming, a pretty pink gateway to the sea.

A family of raccoons has moved in somewhere nearby (OK, I'll be honest, I'm pretty sure they're under the house) and they're holding a series of cocktail parties and get-acquainted mixers for the rest of the raccoons here in Paradise Cove.

Last night, no fewer the a hundred of them moved the festivities, a rave, I think, to the roof. Climbed right up that tree, hired a live band and danced, with lots of thumping and squealing and galloping about. Maisie the Teacup Lab, needless to say, was beside herself. She came thisclose to climbing the tree to break up the party.

At what time, you ask? At 3 a.m., right after she barked like a maniac in her disturbingly low voice, rousted me out of a warm bed and yelled at me until I climbed up on the roof in my pajamas and bare feet and then realized just how dumb that was as a herd of drunken raccoons thundered past. But it did no good. They came again and then again, all night long, and we got no sleep. All that was left this morning were some beer cans, a few tiny glow sticks, and a couple of hits of X.

Anyway, Maisie is sleeping right now, snoring in fact, lying on her back with her four stubby legs waving gently in the air. And me? Sleep-walking through the day, and through this little tale.