parktrotter

This fellow turned up outside the house I talk about, below. This is a banana slug, about five inches long, nearly the official mascot of this part of California (and the entirely official mascot of UC Santa Cruz ). This part of the world is a wet place.

But the banana slugs are not a problem. To continue my list of the kid-dangers that confront the parent in these rental houses: the electrical outlets are always uncovered. There is always a balcony upon the edge of which the child may choose to teeter. And the kitchen is always full of cooking knives, everywhere you look. I get used to my own house, where the knives are either hidden or nonexistent, and the kitchen in the rental house (which is simply normal) ends up looking like a medieval armory to me, to the extent that I expect meat cleavers under the placemats.

My final judgment of the banana slug house: I loved it. Like most of these place, it was not good for little kids, though. My final advice tomorrow.