I told Charlotte earlier in the afternoon that she would be going to Beppe's house that night to eat dinner and play. She got so excited that she wanted to go right then, and asked periodically from then on, "Pay Beppe house?"
After a week of weather in the triple digits it was finally cooling off, and we enjoyed a pleasant early evening stroll from our car past the charming shops of Downtown Visalia to Colima's, a Mexican restaurant. After a yummy dinner of fish tacos and enchiladas, we strolled back to our car and headed to the game. 
The ball park is very approachable and petite, snuggled right into an ordinary neighborhood. At the will call window, I discovered that I had won a four pack of tickets with a voucher for four hot dogs. Not hungry for hot dogs but possibly interested in dessert, I made my way to the concession window to see if I could work out an exchange. No dice. So I decided to give the voucher away to someone in search of dinner. The grateful recipients offered to buy it off me, and when I refused cash, asked if they could buy me something in exchange. I requested and got a frozen lemonade.
The game was slow, and the Rawhide stunk it up against the Modesto Nuts so we left after the 7th inning in favor of a moonlit drive through the country east of Visalia and Tulare. At one point we stopped in the middle of a remote road, rolled down the windows, turned off the engine and marveled at the darkness and quiet. At first it seemed absolutely silent, but soon our ears adjusted and we could hear crickets chirping and the moos of cows from a nearby dairy.
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