Happy Easter!



Easter makes me think of Spring. I am reminded of azaleas and dogwoods, daffodils and crocuses. And thinking of these things makes me very, very happy.


Even if you don’t celebrate Easter, I hope you find a little space to celebrate Spring. It’s sprung, people. And it’s beautiful.

Amember This?




This is a photo from our most recent move. Amember it?


Well the desert POD is gone now, and I no longer straddle two abodes. Everything Mister and I own is in one location and all that stuff is crying out to be dealt with. It wakes me from my sleep. It robs me of my afternoons. I step over and around it. I trip over it. Sometimes I just have to walk away from it.


We’re getting through it, one box at a time, friends. One box at a time. And when we are through it, I’ll be so happy to never mention it again. Promise.


Shouldn’t take more than a few years.

While You’re Down There…



This photo is of one of my current projects (which to me, is art). I’m stripping a saltillo tile floor so that I can stain it a lovely dark brown color. The tiles on the left have been stripped, whereas the tiles on the right have not. Once the entire floor has been stripped and is tinted, I plan to seal it so that it has a nice, high gloss.


For now, I’m in the stripping phase. It’s manual labor, made a bit easier by the use of toxic chemicals. I’m trying to limit my huffing exposure, so I only do a few square feet at a time. Yesterday I stripped 22 square feet, which was pretty good. The area of the entire floor is around 500 square feet, so I’ve got my work cut out for me.


While I was working yesterday, it occurred to me that if I had some major knee pads, I could totally bang that floor. Who cares if knee pads look old lady? I mean really. More than anything, I just want to be comfortable while being productive.


And because I’m a heathen, after thinking how handy those old-lady-knee-pads would be for floor refinishing, I then thought about how handy they’d be for some other getting-down-on-the-knees activities, if you know what I mean.


I told you I’m a heathen.

Trying to Grow



I just put a few tomato plants in the ground at the new pad. Only a few though, and nothing like the numbers of years past. Since we don’t know the sun patterns at this house, we have no idea if the plants will make it or not. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.


Here’s the thing about plants: they want to live. To grow. I was thinking about that today, as I drove home from a therapy session. I realized I, too, am trying to grow. Lately I’ve been feeling very adult – maybe for the first time – and I don’t quite know what to think about it. With my therapist’s help, I learned today that I don’t have to judge myself for not being so sure-footed at this point in life. That I can just experience the moment and the not knowing. It’s all okay. It’s only life, y’all.


I’ll keep you posted as to whether or not those tomatoes take root. I’ll also keep you posted as to whether or not I take root here. If I’m being honest with myself, and I am, I have to admit I’m not too worried. I can already see myself here, in a few months, eating a homemade tomato sandwich and drinking a Dr. Pepper.



Beer Klug



Beer Klug met this past weekend. Mister and I have been in the midst of a lot of life for several months, and this was the first meeting we’ve attended in quite a while.

I like beer. It makes me a jolly good fellow. Wait. That’s Tom T. Hall’s line.


Anyhoo, I super-enjoyed this month’s meeting. I super-enjoyed the fine company. And I super-enjoyed my beer, too.


By the way – see the lipstick on the glass of dark beer up front? Guess who?

Birthday Doughnut



My “birthday doughnut” has become a favorite ritual. I make the trek to Krispy Kreme, place my order, then sit in the shop eating my original glazed and drinking my small cup of coffee. It’s a simple ritual, I admit.


I don’t remember when it began, nor do I remember what possessed me to start. I only know I’m very boring in my exactitude of steps. I park my car. I walk in. I say – right out loud – “I’m here for my birthday doughnut!” I order. I sit. I devour. I leave.


I like having rituals. Honestly, there aren’t too many I practice. But the few I embrace are dear to me. Maybe it’s the stability, the permanence. I’m not sure. But as I age forward in this world, being rooted to my life is, well, it’s lovely.


I am totally open to new experiences. I am also open to developing new rituals. All this while holding on to some well-worn practices.


I suppose that’s what they call Roots and Wings. I’ll take both.

Grass Wall



Y’all, I don’t even know what to say about this. A fake green wall.


But I’m gonna tell you something: I like it. I don’t know why, but I do. It looks festive. It looks healthy. It looks alive.


I’m so glad I happened upon it.

To Me



I had all these great post ideas. Posts about houses with fake grass for siding. Posts about monkfish liver. Posts about cheap furniture stores. But those ideas will have to wait, for today is my birthday. And today – against my nature – I’m celebrating me.


You see,  believe it or not, I struggle with being the center of attention. I could go into the details (gleaned from years of therapy), but I won’t. The fact of the matter is – I struggle with the spotlight. I’m working on it. Baby steps, you know?


Anyhoo, today I’m sending myself birthday wishes. To me. It may be a small step, but it’s a step, y’all.


I’ll take it.

The Road Home



When one re-sets “home” as a destination, landmarks become quite useful. For Mister and me, a giant pine tree is serving as a sign to turn down the road home.


I grew up with pine trees. Lots of them. But here in the L.A. area, I don’t always see too many. When I realized the giant beauty above was on the corner of a nearby street, I was all smiley. This big boy is visible from a few blocks away, and I can even spot it in the dark.


Yesterday I stood beneath the tree and took this photo. Something about the bark brought me comfort. The green needles calmed me. The scent warmed my soul.


Until we’re used to our new neighborhood, this giant pine tree will continue to beckon us home. God help us if it’s ever cut down, because honestly, we’ll probably depend on its presence for all time.


Besides – it’s lover-ly.

Patriotism in Da Hood



Yesterday I found myself tooling about Da Hood. I mean Da Hood, y’all. As in, please don’t ever make me go there except in daylight.


For most of my hood drive, I was behind a thug-mobile covered in stickers proclaiming love for various types of guns. As in, “I Love My Gat.” And “I Love My Nine.” The kid driving couldn’t have been more than about 20 and he should’ve scared the pee out of me.


But he didn’t. I’m not sure why, but I kept seeing his eyes in his rear-view and I couldn’t help thinking he was posing. Now I wouldn’t have challenged that kid – on any subject – for nothing. But I wasn’t afraid. Of him. His bumper stickers freaked me out, but not him.


As I made my way through Da Hood, I successfully avoided some sort of major ruckus involving multiple police officers. It must’ve been something, as others were standing on the tops of their cars and taking pictures with their phones. I didn’t see any of it, as I was just trying to circumvent the entire scene. I succeeded.


At some point, I spotted the flag in the above photo. It was gi-normous, I tell you. Upon first seeing it, I couldn’t help thinking how if it fell on me, I’d be a goner. But it didn’t fall. It just waved in the wind and billowed on the breeze. It’s one of the biggest flags I’ve seen around L.A. Maybe they’re just more patriotic in Da Hood. Go figure.


And if they’re not more patriotic, well, there’s at least one kid there who loves his guns more than Ted Nugent ever will. Nothing says “America” like…