The bully of the foothills pounded at my window bright and early. All day it has filled the hole left by rising air in the valley, rushing over the condos towards the sea. Lynn reports that its not quite so bad on the flats where Interstate-5 runs. Just now I heard the first sign of life outside our home: a slamming car door. On days like this, people grab their ankles and rock while they wait for the foehn to still.