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March 25, 2000
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lovely day, really I really must stop going to bed at 2AM. Did it agin last night. SuRu's phone call at 8AM was a rude awakening. But six hours is OK for sleep. Yes? Yes. We parked on West Avenue. We walked over almost to Guadalupe and then back around and up to 12th. I stood in front of Rather Sweet with the two dogs. SuRu popped out to ask whether New Orleans French Roast with Chicory would be OK. Then back to see if I really wanted espresso or something. Then to see if the presence of chocolate croissants changes my mind about having a pastry. Oh, OK. The dogs and I look in the window of a candle store and of Zoom, a junk store. Sharon from Ella's comes out with their order of wonderful bread from the bakery and loads it in her new bug. We borrow the tables in front of the pizza joint which isn't open as it's still early. As we are leaving, the pizza man opens up and tells his dog to stay on the patio. Which he does. We try to point out this exemplary dog behavior to our goons. "So what?" they say. We go to the park and the hike and bike trail, ambling along looking at turtles and fish in what passes for the creek. Just under Fifth street a 'trail damage ahead' sign is posted. There is no further trail or creek, all construction. We go back up to Fifth and are staring in the fence at the objects at Miguel's. Sharon from Ella's comes out. She has to buy a new pot for the restaurant. "I'm going to the bank and then Breed and Company, if you want to keep following me," she says cheerfully. A guy comes over and welcomes us to wander through and look at the Mexican pots, stoneware and furniture. Home again, I make some clear space in my office by piling stuff in a corner and in the living room. Nancy Lilly arrives to work on Frank's Page. She has two bunches of wonderful flowers. But we have to get some lunch for Forrest who is working hard in the garden and eat ourselves. Then we have to check out SuRu's remodel and visit the frame shop to have a shadow box made for my grandfather's mandolin and some of his hand-copied music. Then we shop a little including a trip through the Next to New thrift shop where, with unerring eye, Nancy asks to see an $1800 plate from behind the counter with the consigned items. Nancy and I work on the WEB page some, Frank comes by from working on stair railings at some Dellionaire house, SuRu comes over to do laundry (no washer and dryer at this stage of the remodel). A lazy Saturday night with no events. That's nice. Forrest makes chicken sandwiches. We drink a little Jack Daniels. Read, TV, snooze.
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"Savoir, penser, rκver. Tout est lΰ." Victor Hugo, Les Chβtiments |
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music pirate
flowers are a mighty gift |
