For the record

Ordinary day at Times Square
NYC

As I was saying, Bloggoroid gobbled up the post I tapped out yesterday on my phone during our bus ride into the City. I no longer scream when these things happen. Some of my losses have been far worse. We all know it's part on life online so here goes again. What follows is a list, mostly without comment. If I have time for more, I'll add it at the end.

NY Times
from Port Authority Bus Terminal

In the week we've been in New York, we've seen two Broadway plays, "A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder" and "It's Only A Play". Wonderful. We caught the Jeff Koons exhibit at the soon to be "old Whitney".  One of his pieces fetched the highest price ever received by a living artist but, IMO, he's not an artist but a designer of over-sized kitsch that, if shrunk down to regular size, I wouldn't pay a dollar for. But then, that's "art" in the world of high finance. We have eaten in a variety of places. Because M.'s mother's tastes range from Michelin Star restaurants to skeevy Chinese noodle and dumpling houses, we've eaten at both. And yesterday we made a pilgrimage to Yonah Schimmel's Knish Bakery in the Bowery, a favorite from Kathy's time in the City during her youth. Also, we visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art twice, munched on sandwiches in Central Park, took what seems like a thousand cold-hearted subway trains and enjoyed our daily short, civil bus trip from New Jersey to Manhattan and back.

Graffitti
Chinatown, NYC

New Jersey itself is perhaps the most pleasant surprise of all. It's quiet, clean and residential with wide sidewalks, trees and a million, no, a three million dollar view of the City across the Hudson. It's a Latino Mayberry. If you don't know what Mayberry is/was, I mean to say it's America circa the 1950s complete with high school football practice and tree-lined streets. If it has a seething, gang-ridden underbelly I am totally, and blissfully, unaware of it.

Kathy at Prosperity Dumpling
Chinatown, NYC

As for the streets of New York, they are a panoply of languages. Mid-town and down, is the center of the hive and chaotic circus complete with food carts, wandering Spidermen, Gumbys, Cookie Monsters and every other cartoon and fantasy character, every kind of fashion, nearly naked ladies, hell fire preachers, millions of pounds of squishy tourists, sly hustlers, bustlers, immigrants, cops, military, rich, poor and inbetweens. The buildings themselves have been transformed from their original brick and stone into dazzling, ricocheting video screen mazes designed to stun and hypnotize and do. Oh, and this weekend the International Comic-Con is happening so today the streets should be extra freaky.

Ordinary day at Times Square
NYC

Oops. M. Lee just jumped up and announced that he miscalculated the time. Okay. Sorry. No time to edit this. I'll fix it later. I hope my mistakes aren't too egregious. I'm sure I'll be embarrassed when I read it later but I'm determined to post something. Otherwise, I post nothing.   So.... photos to follow.

The Elms
Bowery

Bloggeroid ate my post

I did a more complete post on the bus coming in from New Jersey but the blogger app ate it. This one I'm doing as we wait for the day's sandwiches to be made. Today we're going back to the Met. OK. That is all.

posted from Bloggeroid

NY street scene

This will have to be quick. You know how it is. We were supposed to leave at 11 AM and it's already 10:55. Oops. :56.

We're in New York with M.'s mom. Her treat, we're going to a Broadway play this afternoon. Don't ask which one. I don't remember. I've got bigger things on my mind, such as downloading my photos from yesterday. M. and I sat out on Times Square on small red metal folding chairs while his mom shopped at H&M. It was a circus. Of course,  my photos are no different than the thousands, perhaps millions, of other photos people took of the place yesterday but here's one of mine.

NYC, Times Square street scene

Notes on last summer

Grammatically correct Bangkok graffiti.

Old editors don't die. They just wander the world critiquing graffiti. Never mind the expression. It's typical of the trade. The Language Barrier's Itinerant Editor is actually expressing pleasure over the correct use of the apostrophe. Thus we are going back to Bangkok for more. Before we leave, I have much to do. That is why, of course, I am doing a blog post which I must begin with a lament.

I blew it! Thea Bella and Kristiana stayed with us for five weeks in Florida this summer but I kept only the barest record of their wonderful visit on my external memory, otherwise known as this blog. Now there is not, for the cold winter nights ahead, a reliable path back to those sweet memories, only flitting recollections of the quirky details, things five-year-old Thea said and did. So, for my future self, here are three memories. May they lead to more.

Every night, Thea would invite me to come listen to the bedtime story, Harry Potter. At that point, they were nearing the end of book two. I would bring my pillow and lay on the end of the bed and Kristiana read to us. She is a fabulous reader. Very dramatic with perfect, distinct voices for each character. It was very entertaining. Thea's memory is much better than mine. She knew the plot and all the characters by name and the reading seemed to energize her. With the irrepressible curiosity of a five-year-old, she asked a lot of questions, all the while doing things like standing on her head and bouncing on the bed. That took some getting used to as, being grandma and all, I became instantly drowsy and was happy to drift in and out under the spell of the words. It was a bedtime story after all. In any case, this endearing nightly ritual became, for me, one of the defining moments of the summer.

Another defining event was how Thea, being so enamored by the sometimes even 90° water of the Gulf, refused to come out even long enough to eat lunch. She'd run ashore, grab her sandwich, give grandpa his, then they'd have to run back into the water. She would only eat standing in the waves. By the end of the summer she was snorkeling, beginning to anyway, and fearless in the surf. 

Mesdames K. and T.
An electric evening at the jetty

Then there were the amazing, wild tales she and grandpa made up about everything. I wish I'd recorded some of them. For example, they discussed reflections in mirrors. The little Florida house has many. She wondered if the Theas in the mirrors were real. That story almost got out of hand. They pondered which was the real Thea. Was Mirror Thea the real Thea? Was she her reflection? I almost pulled the plug on that one because, for the one moment Thea considered that, her eyes took on the appearance of dark, faraway vortices. Luckily, the next moment she rejected the idea and declared that, without a doubt, she was the real Thea and the Mirror Theas, each and every one of them, were their own separate persons. Naturally on the last day, when she and Mom were preparing to leave for the airport, she went around saying good-bye to them all and wishing them well.

As for our time in LA with M. Lee's mom, way back in July, at some point I will also do a post on it. M. Lee even requested that I do. A first! For the record, I started one before Thea and Kristiana arrived, also back in July, but it still languishes in draft. When Mesdames Thea and Kristiana came, blam-o! I did manage my morning five minute write, before Thea got up, but that's about it. My hat is off to all parents with fledglings in the nest. I think we forget, once our kids are launched, how totally engaging they are. There's never a second. It would be 9 or 10 PM before I could finally sit down to write about the day, then suddenly I'd wake up disoriented, exhausted, laptop gone dormant, cicada singing away in the mangrove dark and I could only toddle off to bed, the day gone and unwrit. So for now, minimal as it is, this will have to do.

Shane, Lee and Kathy at the Getty - LA

Fiona's story

I found a "note to self" on my desktop tonight. It had one word, Fiona, and a link to the video below. Thank you, past self. Watching it pulled me back from the abyss I fell into today fiddling with the endless details for this upcoming trip. So I'm embedding it here for my future self, because the time will come again, and for anyone else happening by who might like, or need, a sweet story about now.



PS. If you happen to know who did the song, please let me know. It's not only perfect for the video, it's just good.

Turn-around

Flying by

Home, sweet turn-around. We've just got back from Portland, Oregon. It was the last leg of a four month journey and the Big Event, the birth of Baby Chance, Supermoon Boy. Now we're back in Nevada. It's home but feels more like a traffic circle. Nevertheless, we have long-time friends here, our "stuff" is here, the Bird Park is here. Things are where and the way they are supposed to be. Maggie, aka the 7 o'clock magpie, showed up for peanuts the first morning we were back and, at the moment, sparrows fill the bushes and trees and several are enjoying a raucous dust bath party on the ground.

Squirrel underpants

And then there's my office. In case you've ever wondered where the center of the Universe is, cluttered though it be, it's my office. And, for the moment, I am there ... here. But not for long. We are leaving again at the beginning of October and won't be back until mid-January. Of course I'll still be here, the Language Barrier that is. It's home everywhere. And home is where the heart is..... which is family.

Cousins Thea, Leo and Frank

Baby Chance and Dad

Our ultimate destination is Thailand for three months. I guess it's fair to say we're in a rut. We were also there last year for three months. Yes. There is a whole big world out there, and time is running out, but we really like Thailand. But before Thailand, we're going to New York with Lee's mom for a brief visit and after that we'll all go to LA for a few days. Then she returns home and we return to Thailand. At this point, we're there more than anywhere else.

My pot

Life is strange. I never thought I'd be traveling like this. Several years ago, starting over and dirt poor, I bought a small copper-bottomed sauce pan at a secondhand store. I was delighted. It was a good omen. Revere Ware. My mother always said it was the best. I was still with my then-husband but, in fact, was more like a single mom raising three kids. A lot of meals came out of that pot, all though their childhood. And, being the absent-minded type, I burned a lot of food in it. However, I pride myself on always restoring it to some semblance of it's original secondhand glory. Now, 30 years later, a little worn though it be, all things being equal, it's still got a ways to go. I cooked my oatmeal in it this morning. 

Supermoon Boy

We were expecting him to be a couple of weeks late, like his brothers, but you know what they say about a rising tide floating all boats.

Leo, Frank and cousin Thea greeting him.

Plus, the night he was born, Frankie put his hand on his mom's belly and said "Baby out" and a few hours later, riding the waves stirred by the gigantic Harvest Super-moon, Baby Chance did just that.

Mom, Baby Chance and now big brother Frank

Frank was adamant about wearing his orange tshirt to the hospital the next morning to greet him.

He's beautiful.

A day in September

I just want to remember this, this sunny September Saturday afternoon. The only thing on the calendar is "New Baby". In the meantime silver puff artichoke seeds detach and float away into the sky and the children sail off into a future I shall not see.

posted from Bloggeroid

On the road again

It's smoky in Susanville. There's a forest fire somewhere nearby but, so far, no indication of road closures.

Burning Man, Black Rock Desert, Nevada
~ photo source: Time.com

We've seen lots of Burners on the road today, even though Burning Man ended three days ago. We figure they must be members of the enormous volunteer crew that are the heart of the event. Like everyone returning from Black Rock, they are easy to spot. They look like ghosts. They, their vehicles and ragtag bikes (including the tires), are chalky white with playa dust. The Prius ahead of us says it all but not a glitzy 'magic" Burner art car way . The license plate simply says 1TRIBE.

Burner car on the road

posted from Bloggeroid

OK. We're about to head into the mountains and off the grid. I'll edit the typos later. See you on the other side.

Jigsaw

I stare at the clouds and patches of blue sky above the corridor of pines. Hello and good-bye worlds on my way somewhere else, the place that does not exist.

I review my collection of jigsaw days, looking for today. Monday? No. The day after Wednesday following Tuesday dinner with friends. The guy on the radio says it's the 28th.

And now it's night. Eight hundred miles in 12 hours. The cicada are wonderful here. I could stay with them forever but not in this motel. Not in Jackson. Not in Mississippi.

Eating through America

We leave in the morning. The last day is always crazy and I'm pretty sure this one will be no exception, especially as at the moment, I'm writing a blog post instead of packing though, for the record, I'm also packing. Much to do. We really moved in this year, but leave we will, because we must and it will be early tomorrow morning. As usual, M. Lee has tossed down the gauntlet, 6 AM. I will be ready. It's not much of a competition though. He is, by nature, organized and linear. I am, by nature, disorganized and lateral. But, I'm not really "disorganized". My organizing principal is inclusive and improvisational and his is boom, boom, boom DONE.

But, however we pack, tomorrow will be a long grind, about 12 hours on the road. M. Lee plans these trans-America trips with dinner in mind. Being vegetarian, it is very challenging. For us, most of America is a culinary wasteland but he a master at ferreting out a nightly oasis.

Tomorrow night we'll stop in Jackson, Mississippi (I still love spelling that word.... M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I) and eat at Cool Al's. I look forward to it. It's a burger joint but Al lives up to his legendary cool. There are some great veggie, even vegan, burgers on the menu and I loves me his sweet sweet potato fries, plus the atmosphere is, well it's atmospheric, and I love that too. Friday night is the trip's foodie highlight. Strange as it is, we're making a special detour to Dallas, Texas because one of our all-time favorite veggie restaurants is there, Kalachandji's, and we are willing to drive 12 hours tomorrow just to include it in our itinerary. Otherwise, like they say, "If I owned Texas and Hell, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell", except I'd visit Hell to eat at Kalachandji's, which we will do on Friday night.

After that the food thing gets a bit sketchy. Saturday night in Albuquerque, New Mexico, if we find nothing better, we'll grab some banh mi sandwiches at the Vietnamese bakery, Banh Mi Coda, a regular stop. And Sunday night, Vegas, baby! where, if the slots don't get you, the food will. Heart attack city. But there are a options. We'll probably go to our fallback vegan Chinese place, don't remember the name at the moment. Then home on Sunday. Unpack and repack on Monday and Tuesday we'll head to Portland to meet the new baby about to be born.

Evening Gulf report

They are gone. At the moment they are somewhere in the air returning to Oregon and the very lonely rest of them... sister, Dad, brother, the dingbat dogs, aunts, uncles, cousins, Ms. Willy Nelson the capital "c" Cat, the good grandma and grandpa, friends and a world that needs them and has missed them the five weeks they were here with us on Alligator Creek. The house feels empty, the Gulf feels empty but there is a good breeze here on the screen porch, enough to set wind chimes rustling and Frida's pineapple palm tree whispering. On Thursday we will begin our trans-America trek back to Oregon to await, with everyone else, the arrival of Leo and Frank's new brother or sister but not tonight.

Twilight on Alligator Creek

Fish brain

Ideas dart in and out of my mind like fish, a flash of silver and they're gone. It's very frustrating. I grab for one, notice another out of the corner of my eye and miss both, leaving me empty-handed and empty-headed. Like now.

posted from Bloggeroid

Midnight again?

Summer is slipping by. We leave Florida in one week.

Manatee in the Gulf

Damn. I've barely made note.

Egret contemplating the sea

This is how it is...

Stump at Stump Pass

...and how it goes.

Thea on the Gulf of Mexico

Oh oh

In the snootiest voice imaginable, my granddaughter just told me, "I may look young, but I am five-years-old".

As thunder rolls

As the humidity climbs, Sonny holds forth on the screen porch and thunder rumbles in the clouds floating under a bright blue sky. Gpa Lee and Ms. Thea have settled into a rainy day marathon video extravaganza and Kristiana is moving thousands of photos from one device to another, freeing up gigabytes and gigabytes of memory and I, spurred on by Roy's comment about "the third thing", will attempt to decipher all of Helium's comments in the video I just posted.

In the meantime, here is another video. It is for amusement purposes only although it does remind me of what goes on in my head when I sit down "to write". After one of these sessions, I am always amazed if there is anything left on the page. M. Lee turned me on to cyriak so, if you also find it disturbing, blame him.

_______________________________________________

Ok. Here is it, although I'm not sure about Helium's final comment. And, of course, who really knows what Strindberg's forgotten third thing was, although I think Roy's guess is probably right, dingoes.

On second thought, my guess is that Strindberg's forgotten third thing is....

Motherrrrrrrrrrrr

Strindberg and Helium at the Beach, Helium's comments:

Heeeeliuuuuuum

Dismaaaaaal

Murrrrrdeeeeer

Diseeeeeeeaaaase

Sewaaaaaaage

Heeeeeelllllll

Purtifiiiiied caaaaaarcaaaaaass

final comment (??????)

Sonny is still talking. Currently he's ranting about how "the sonovabitch's door was open" and god knows what else and I am drenched sitting here in the

huuuuuuuumidddddddiiiiiiittttttttyyyyyyy.....

Strindberg and Helium at the Beach

As I'm at the beach a lot these days, I thought I'd post this episode of Strindberg and Helium, a couple of my favorite guys. In other news, it's begun raining again this morning. That may sound like a downer but it's not. I don't know how the rest of Florida is doing, but it has been unseasonably dry here on the Gulf. Yesterday's all day rain and house rattling thunder was very welcome. This morning's rain in very fluky. It's partly sunny and raining like crazy in the front of the house and sunny in the back, then suddenly we are hit by wild wild rain.

LA highlights and Star Party

As for the week in LA with M. Lee's mom, Kathy, and Shane, other than not being able to connect with a blogger friend in the area, it went swimmingly. Every day was different and unique, all due to Lee's superb planning. He does a helluva job.

Breakfast at our Hollywood AirBnB - Shane and Kathy

I wish he enjoyed the trip as much as everyone else but his mom is 83 which leaves zero room for missteps or backtracking. Like a stage manager, he's too busy keeping an eye on things to simply enjoy the show. After a couple of days, we'd done and seen so many things that our attempts to recall details were laughable. It's even harder now, a month later, so this is just a rough sketch to remember things by.

Adventures along the way:

One of our first mornings there we popped into the Hollywood Bowl. In the morning the gates are open and entrance is free so we went in, sat in the shade and listened to the Los Angeles Philharmonic rehearse for their evening performance. Another day we went to Venice Beach and happened upon the Mr. and Ms. Muscle Beach Competition which was in full swing. Talk about a man-fest.

Of course, we went to Malibu and checked out the scene. Eventually we stopped at El Matador Beach where Shane swam, M. Lee grabbed a little sun and I photographed a seagull nibbling a bloated seal corpse. Which reminds me, I also photographed David Geffen's Malibu beach seaside mansion with it's row of garage doors along the street, several of them fake. Phony. Pretend. This dickhead had them installed and fake driveways put in just to keep people from parking in front of his house which is on Pacific Coast Hwy, a public street. Talk about cheesed-dick.

Minerva, Swami and Shane at Venice Beach

The seconded time we visited Venice beach Kathy stayed at the house. Shane swam, I took photos and, as we generallydo when people watching, M. Lee and I make up stories about people passing by. You may be vacationing Russian mafioso. Or perhaps you are a British aristocrat just out of treatment for cocaine addiction and we will debate whether or not you are at the beach to score or meditate. After that we walked to the Santa Monica Pier where, you guessed it, I took more pictures.



And, of course, we did several museum crawls, the Getty and LACMA, and saw work ranging from Rembrandt, Renoir, Van Gogh and Kandinsky to new artists in the Hammer's exhibit, "Made in LA 2014".

Me, lost in the ambient world again.

Then there was the flea market on Melrose and Fairfax. No one bought anything but it was fun to peruse the wares. Shane immediately fell in love with a vendor, a babe in baby blue short shorts. I couldn't get a good photo of her without being obvious. Other than that, I spent a lot of time photographing reflections in mirrors.

Vegan soul food with Shane, M. Lee andKathy

Restaurants:

Our go-to place for the week was Veggie Grill, good veggie and vegan food, hardy servings, good prices. There are several in LA and a couple near where we were staying so it was really handy. And among the highlights there were the adventures like El Huarique, Peruvian Cuisine. This was a tiny, lunch counter down a narrow walkway on Venice Beach. Their sign described the place as a "Hole in the Wall" but "Hole in the Wallet" would have been just as accurate. Four styrofoam plate lunches was $80. I didn't want the fish so my plate was basically a huge pile of rice and beans. Nice guys though. I wish them the best.

Shane at Stuff I Eat vegan soul food

We also tried Stuff I Eat, a vegan soul food place in Inglewood. It was, in every way, outstanding. I hightly recommend it. And we went to the vegetarian buffet at the Hsi Lai Buddhist Monastery with some old friends who used to be neighbors in Oregon. It's the first time we visited them since they moved to LA so, being Chinese, they insisted on tea at their new place, then a tour of the house before leaving for the buffet. Another evening just the four of us went to Dim Sum, Kathy's favorite and a first for Shane.

Dim Sum in San Gabriel Valley

Also, we had lunch at one of our regular stops, Govinda's. That's the vegetarian buffet at the Krsna Temple on Watseka Blvd.. Always good food at a great price. During the 60's I used to sleep on the floor of what is now that restaurant. At the time it was the Temple's women's quarters of what was then the new temple. Before that we all lived at at the original ISKCON temple on La Cienega Blvd. And, of course when we were in Malibu, we stopped at Malibu Seafood, an old LA favorite fish place across from the beach and had fish and chips. It wasn't healthy or vegetarian but it was tasty, even after just seeing the seal and the seagull. We also went to Rahel's Ethiopian Vegan Cuisine for their lunch buffet. I didn't care for it the first time we ate there. M. Lee does and was determined to prove to me that I actually do as well. While I'm sure Rahel's does a fine job, seems Ethiopian food just does't do it for me, or at least, I didn't care for their buffet. Perhaps items from the menu would be more to my liking. I dunno.

Heart of the Matter: 

The big deal, her post cancer treatment kick up your heels treat, the main event of the week was taking M. Lee's mom to the Jewish Women's Council Thrift Shops.

Kathy has been a thrift store junkie her entire life and has an excellent, well-honed eye for designer clothes and Chinese antiquities. She dresses like a million bucks on a dime and, over the years, amassed quite a collection of mostly Chinese artifacts. She loves the Council Thrift Shops and we did all five in LA. She scored some good ones. Designer clothing is not my thing but I did get one thing and took photos. M. Lee and Shane, on the other hand, became instant experts on couches. 

Star Party and secret spots:

And it just happened that the moon was in its first quarter the Saturday night we made it up to the Griffith Observatory in Griffith Park so we joined the Star Party hosted monthly by the Los Angeles Astronomical Society to celebrate the quarter moon, otherwise known as the half moon. The lawn in front of the observatory was filled with wonderful telescopes and hundreds of people were milling around, peeking into one, then another for delicious views of the moon,

R.I.P. Robin Williams

sad

FiveOWriteO

The term came out of one of those word jazz sessions Kristiana, M. Lee and I were having the other day, at my expense. At the time it was FiveOWriMo. Later I changed it to FiveOWriteO or its colloquial fiveowriteo. Of course, both are based on the now famous NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which has, over the years, kicked a significant number of people off their duffs to take the plunge, resulting in huge gobs and boatloads of words getting launched during the month of November and some manuscripts actually becoming published works of whatever. Even I managed to assemble 50,000 words one November spurred on by the collective frenzy. Don't ask. The deal with FiveOWriteO is to write for five minutes everyday, one day at a time. Of course, a commitment to write five, f-i-v-e,  5 little minutes a day will only be of interest to individuals suffering from writer's block, which includes me. "Writers write, Owen" . Smirk all you like, writer's block is a drag. So, of course, the important thing about a FiveOWriteO is the word "write" because write is a verb.

And yes, I've been telling myself for years to set a daily time and write. I used to tell myself to write four hours a day. When I failed at that I lowered the time to two hours a day, that became one, then one half-hour, which worked until it didn't.

I've been doing my fiveowriteo for about a month now and have gotten quite attached to this little morning interlude. God, that must sound so pathetic. I am embarrassed to discuss it, even here, but now Roy at Blogorahma has upped the stakes and started occasionally posting his five minutes worth (thanks a lot, Roy). His, of course, are good. Mine are not and they are really short but, these days, I'm grateful to be writing at all so, in the spirit of fun and fair play, I am posting this morning's fiveowriteo.

It's hard to make a beginning without a starting point. I do not have one. I start over and over from the middle of nowhere. Is it some kind of twisted snobbery to forego a beginning? A foundation? An idea? The spiral continues its twist. Over and over, Billy (Collins) starts at his window. It is not his privilege alone, something he himself makes abundantly clear. "The poets are at their windows." And I am at mine only, for now, my window is the screen porch.

I am sitting in my screen porch. It is morning. The black birds are at work on the peanuts and seeds. It is 2:26 PM in Addis Ababa. I have never been to Addis Ababa but have wondered about it since I was a child. I leave the porch and wander the shade of its narrow, winding, packed-sand passageways which open occasionally onto bazaars filled with wares and food of every description. The whole scene is ablaze with color and swelters under makeshift canopies and tents and throbs with a cacophony of voices, braying, cawing, banging and music. People look down on the scene from tiny balconies attached to brightly painted buildings.

And then I am back on Alligator Creek with the dive-bombing black birds who, in the time it took to visit Addis Ababa and return, snatched all the peanuts from under Frida Kahlo the squirrel's memorial pineapple palm tree before the squirrels arrive.

References:
Friday by Roy deGregory
Monday by Billy Collins

Check-in

Currently, we are wildly busy trailing after our five year-old granddaughter, Thea. She and my daughter Kristiana are staying with us here on Alligator Creek for the five weeks. It's wonderful. We spend a lot of time at the beach. We all love it and it's the best place to get the wiggles out. Thea adores the water, won't even come out long enough to eat her sandwich at lunchtime. She and Grandpa eat standing in the waves. I swear she's half fish and he's 3/4s kid. Ok. Gotta go.

Drift

So, I posted a new poem at annasadhorse, Drift. Again, it's not "new" in the sense that I just wrote it, but it is new in the archive and relatively new in the order of things in as I wrote it in the last few years.

MinuteCast

9:30 PM  My daughter and I are sitting out on the screen porch, eagerly awaiting the storm but Accuweather's MinuteCast predictions keeps changing the time it will arrival at our house and reducing the severity. At first, much to our delight, they said we were in for a "severe storm" but, after several downgrades, our storm is now predicted to be a "light rain". In the meantime, the wind did pick up, which is very tantalizing. Palm trees are whooshing and, to the south, lightning is flashing in the clouds. MinuteCast just announced that the storm will be here in "four minutes". Finally! We hear thunder. Kristiana has re-positioned herself by the railing.

Florida night with flash of lightning.

Hmmm... MinuteCast changed the changed time of the storm's arrival time again. Now they're saying it will be here in "eight minutes". WTF? Last night we had a proper storm. Mind-numbing thunder cracked directly overhead. That cleared the porch. Damn. MinuteCast now only has "sprinkles" for us. Damn. Changed again. No precipitation for 120 minutes."  Ok. Enough of this. Goodnight.

C'est la vie

The Visitation.
Frida Kahlo, the Gran Ardilla

It's an established fact that I love squirrels, well all animals, but this post is about squirrels. And, this summer, as previous ones here in Florida, there are several who come every morning for the peanuts I put around Frida Kahlo, the Gran Ardilla's, memorial pineapple palm tree. But this summer, other than Ragnar Halftail, the crew is a bunch of scraggly tailed imbeciles. They're cute but dumb as rocks. And lazy. To begin with, they're being sandbagged by a cluster of enterprising blackbirds. These fellows define the term "early bird". I had to change tactics. Now, instead of scattering peanuts around the tree, I wait till the little dolts get here then I toss nuts to them from the balcony. But there's no guarantee they will notice them, even when accidentally bonked on the head by one. And, if they do notice, chances are the simpletons immediately break into a fierce up, down and around the tree battle over it while the blackbirds dive-bomb from the fronds, scoop up the nuts and take off. And these dunderheads are picky. Sometimes one grabs a nut, smells it, drops it and goes for a piece of corn instead. The birds don't seem too interested in corn so I put plenty of that out. And, if a squirrel does decided to have a peanut, they are just as likely to scamper off and bury it in grass and yes, the smarty pants blackbirds loooove that. So, c'est la vie.

Scenes from LA's Melrose and Fairfax Flea Market

July 14

My recap of our recent week in LA languishes.

Looking in on things.

It's not that that I'm trying to make it "literature".

Pink flamingos and palm trees 

Like M. Lee always says, "blog writing isn't writing".

"Don't you listen to him, honey!"

Of course, that's bullshit.

It's all good

But he's also right.

Man and man in the glass

Anyway, it's like I said, I'm still turning and tweeking photos

Flea market explorer with David and Marilyn

and not getting to the damn list of places we went.

The yellow-breasted Haggler
Habitat: flea markets, yard sales, thrift shops,
rummage sales and kool-aid stands

So here are a few from LA's Melrose and Fairfax Flea Market
for your amusement and to refresh the page.

My little problem

I am finally having to admit that I have a problem with, how do I say, cameras? It's not a technical problem. It's not the camera. It's me. I'm obsessed with taking photos. It's unmanageable. I spent the day juggling an absurd number of images from the last month alone. I (excuse me. quick pause while I take a couple of photos of some really fabulous clouds in the evening sky) 'm not kidding. It's bad. I am drowning in images. I've got to start dealing with this.

LA at night from a moving vehicle

Sky Bridge home

Sunday lunch with the Chaus at the
Hsi Lai Buddhist Monastery - Hacienda Heights, CA

posted from Bloggeroid

We're home. Or were. I'm writing this as we drive  across Florida on Alligator Alley. No. Haven't seen any alligators. They troll rest stops for handouts but this time we're on a mission and not stopping

Crossing Tampa's Sky Bridge
yesterday with Swami, Minerva and Andy.

Thanks to M. Lee's fastidious planning, the LA trip went very well. Once I download the photos I'll post a few and a recap.

Lunch at the Buddhist monastery buffet

We're out of here in 15 minutes to pick up Kathy's friends and then... well .... the title tells the rest of the tale. Photos to follow here and at Instagram. I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm totally sucked into Instagram these days. It's the Deconstructionist's fault. I joined just to see her photos and then she stopped posting. Go figure. And her blog hasn't been updated for over a year. Damn! She's my favorite blogger, and not just because she's my daughter. She's a wonderful writer.

Anyway, like I said, photos to follow, including (at some point) photos of the Airbnb place we're staying. It's pretty cool and in a great location, two blocks from the Melrose entrance to Paramount Studios. Every time we drive by it I expect to see a long black limo pulling in with Marilyn Monroe in the backseat.

LA wanderings

LA graffiti artist

We're in LA for the week but I just can't keep up with it here. As usual, we are running from morning till night. I'm dashing this off at breakfast time but we're leaving shortly and that will be the day.

Shane & Lee - James Ensor exhibit at the Getty

More photos at imgur.....