Fireplace Face



This is Fireplace Face. It was in the new pad when we moved here. It juts several feet into the room and is super-duper wide. If it serves a useful purpose, I am unaware of it.


I tell you this because Fireplace Face is nearing the end of its life. I am not fond of the missed floor space, nor am I fond of stubbing my toe on it in the night. Friends who’ve come over have looked at it – agape – afraid to say anything lest Mister or I love it. We do not.


And that is why its demise is upon it. Lack of love. Humans need it. Pets, too. Plants seem to fare a bit better when love is bestowed upon them. So I suppose inanimate objects may need it as well. This is only an idea, mind you. And I’m no scientist.


But I am a love-ist. And I do love. A lot. But not fireplace face. There is absolutely no love lost there. More to come…

The Day After



This was our table yesterday. It was set to make our guests feel welcomed, to feel important. To feast until we dropped.


Our table doesn’t look anything like this today. Today it is, gratefully, clean. It is also empty, save for a few leftover flowers and itty-bitty pumpkins. But the memories remain. And that’s good.


I will not be “Black Friday” shopping today. Each and every year it is my goal to avoid shopping for the entire weekend, if at all possible. I know that’s not how ever’body do. I know some of you absolutely live for getting up at the booty-crack of dawn and hitting sale after sale after sale. Hey – it ain’t my thang but I’m okay with it being yours.


I may see a movie today. Then again, I may not. I do sense a stuffing ball in my near future. And a nap. Maybe it should be called Good Friday. Those things sound pretty darned good to me.





Today will find me giving thanks.


For Love. For Family. For Friends. For Food. And for So Much More.


If you were blessed enough to wake today, I hope you find your own gratitude. And I sincerely hope your blessings are too numerous to count.




Know what I’m bringing to the table on Thanksgiving? Clean choppers.


I was at the dentist’s office this week and after nearly falling asleep in that comfy chair (I kid you not), I headed home with a good report and healthy gums and teeth. I am totally ready to chow down.

Morning Libations



Sometimes you find yourself in the desert. At a “Fifty is the New F-Word” party. And you eat amazing food and drink amazing cocktails. You laugh. You visit with friends. You enjoy yourself. A little too much.


Then comes the next morning. You need one thing and one thing only: coffee. So you sit down with your Mister, and though it’s bright and early, that guy orders a morning libation. I swear, you think you know a person.


But when you find yourself in the desert, there’s just no telling…

Awesome Exhibit at LACMA



Sometimes when I see art, I’m moved. (Sometimes not, but that’s another story.) I often feel emotion, brought on by whatever I’m viewing or experiencing. And that’s great. I relish those moments and the art that inspires them. But a few days ago I saw a new exhibit at LA County Museum of Art (LACMA): Calder and Abstraction: From Avant-Garde to Iconic, and I had a rather surprising reaction. I giggled.


Mister and I had free tickets, and though I knew next to nothing about Alexander Calder or his work, I rarely turn down free, y’all. So off to the museum we went. My expectations weren’t too lofty, as I did know I’d be seeing mobiles. The things made of wire and stuff? All balance-y and move-y and such? And we did see mobiles. And they were indeed balance-y and move-y and such. But they were so much more. The simplicity was lovely and the structural brilliance was smile-inducing. Honestly, before I knew what was happening, I was grinning from ear to ear and reveling in girlish laughter. There was just something about Calder’s beautiful, mesmerizing work that I found to be powerfully uplifting.


Most of the pieces on exhibit were made in the 1930′s and ’40′s. There are a few later works, and those are pretty impressive sculptures, “stabiles” I believe they were called. While there, I learned that Marcel Duchamp was the originator of calling Calder’s works “mobiles.” I love factoids like that!


This show runs through July 27, 2014. So if you’re in or around L.A. (or find yourself here for a visit), do try to pop over to LACMA. A little positive spirit goes a long, long way.

You Can’t Buy Everything There…



I love Costco. I do. Mister likes to say it’s one of the things that makes America great. I do not disagree.


Costco sells a lot of things. More than I know, really. But that’s not the point of this post. The point is this – I was in the Costco parking lot last week, locked out of my car. It was Mister’s car, actually, and I had taken it in for service and so the electronic key wasn’t attached to my ring. Instead, it was in the car, where the service guy had left it. When I got out of the car, I’d used the interior lock mechanism instead of the exterior. This makes a difference because the exterior mechanism is electronic, meaning one cannot lock the door from the outside if the key is inside the car. But since I used the interior mechanism – which is manual – I was able to lock the doors, no matter where the key was. That’s not the point of this post, either.


So I was standing by my locked car in the Costco parking lot, waiting for AAA to come bail out my sorry butt. As I was standing there, a lady pushed her laden cart past me and dropped some trash on the ground. She stopped, looked down at the trash, then shrugged her shoulders and walked to her car. Which was right next to mine. That’s right – this all happened a mere 2 feet in front of me.


I have many assets flaws, y’all. One of them is my big mouth. So, as you’re probably guessing, I opened said big mouth and blurted, “You’re gonna pick up that litter, aren’t you?” The lady sighed audibly and said, “Yes! I was gonna pick it up!” She stomped the 2 feet to where she’d left the trash and retrieved it. She then finished unloading her shopping into her car. She then got in her car, backed out of the spot, put the car in drive and started to leave the parking lot. But just after she began inching forward, she leaned out her window and yelled, “Bitch!” She then sped off pretty dang quickly.


I have many flaws assets, y’all. One of them is my big sense of humor. So when that lady yelled at me, I did the only thing I could: I guffawed so loudly and with such gusto, I actually bent over and slapped my own knee. I was still laughing as she peeled around the corner, trying so desperately to get away from me, lest I come after her or something.


After my laughter died down, I thought about that lady and her witnessed behaviors. And I realized I had been unfair to her. For she was only being true to her nature. Think about it. She knowingly littered. I mean, she may have accidentally dropped the garbage, but she knowingly chose to leave the trash on the ground. She chose to litter. And if that behavior was a part of her nature, it should have been no surprise that she might then choose to yell an obscenity at a stranger in a public parking lot. That lady is what she is.


And another factor was probably at play: I don’t care what kind of person one may be, no one relishes having their shortcomings pointed out. By anyone. And certainly not by someone who’s having a happy, joy-filled, all-I-can-seem-to-do-is-laugh kind of day.


But that is my nature. Just like my big mouth and my optimism. And my love for Costco.


Yes, they sell a lot of things at Costco. But you can’t buy everything there. For as I clearly learned in their parking lot, they obviously don’t sell class, grace or decorum. You’ve either got those or you don’t.

Because I’m Frugal



It finally slipped below 80 degrees here in Los Angeles (it even rained, yo), so I pulled out my boots. And when I did, I thought about how long I’ve had this particular pair of boots. And how they’ve had a face-lift during their tenure with me.


They used to be a pale camel color. And I loved them. For years.


But then I didn’t love them as much. I don’t know what happened, I just wasn’t vibing on their color anymore. But I kept them, because I’m cheap.


Actually, I’m frugal. So I took them there boots to my local cobbler (everyone’s got one, right?) and asked if he could dye them. And you know what? He could, and did.


Now I love the color and I was more than happy to pull them out of summer storage and stomp around in them. I love fall. And these boots were made for wearing.

On This Date in History…



A birthday poem for my friend, Felicia…


I wasn’t there. I’m not one of those souls who can tell you exactly where they were,

how they felt.

I didn’t live in Camelot, expecting the sun to shine forever,

only to ache as it dimmed unexpectedly. Royalty silenced. Humankind changed.

And as the planet wept, as the citizens of earth collectively turned inward,

vainly attempting to stifle the pain,

the world continued to turn.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Though doctors and nurses were unable to tear themselves away from non-stop news,

the labor pains persisted. Time, though blindsided, would not wait.

And so tiny lungs gasped for sweet, sweet oxygen.

For that first fiery burst of over-the-speed-limit, barefoot-on-the-beach,

mad dash of life.

Inhaled adventure.

Yes, dreams were laid to rest on this date in history.

And entirely different dreams were set in motion.

Dreams that still burn, that still race around life’s carousel and beyond.

Brass rings dangle on strong, slender wrists,

as limber fingers reach for the next precious band…

The Ace Hotel



I took this photo in 2009, when the Saint Descenders were climbing the 3 highest peaks in Southern California (also known as the 3 Saints). Mt. San Jacinto was peak number 2. As that mountain is located in Palm Springs, we all stayed at the Ace Hotel. Its bar was major fun and we tore it apart – the night before our summit. Yes, the Saint Descenders were about the hiking, but we were also about the party. And every last one of us bagged that peak, y’all.


Anyhoo, I was just remembering. And thinking how much I’d like to hit that bar again.


Good times…