August 18, 2010

Spent another weekend in LA and found something else to love about it.

Peacocks!!!! 
Wandering the streets!!
No one told me that was happening down there. What the what?
Really? How utterly amazing and enchanting! 
We visited the LA Arboretum where they were also wandering about and though I didn’t find any tail feathers I found a smallish one and these tiny little flowers from a giant tree.

 

We had Pho in Chinatown.

Watched some dancing.

 and best of all, spent time with our daughter.

August 18, 2010

Spent another weekend in LA and found something else to love about it.

Peacocks!!!! 
Wandering the streets!!
No one told me that was happening down there. What the what?
Really? How utterly amazing and enchanting! 
We visited the LA Arboretum where they were also wandering about and though I didn’t find any tail feathers I found a smallish one and these tiny little flowers from a giant tree.

 

We had Pho in Chinatown.

Watched some dancing.

 and best of all, spent time with our daughter.

August 18, 2010
There has been no time in the garden lately.
The plums are all gone, eaten by the critters mostly and the rest in Rustic Plum Cake, the last of which I ate last night with a spoonful of caramel ice cream, can I get an Amen!
The tomatoes are still little green marbles. They too are waiting, hopeful.
The sun is here now, arrived a couple days ago so maybe…

Last weekend we visited the LA Arboretum where I saw the most amazing things.



























































I don’t recall the names of any of these. I was too dazzled to care. 









August 9, 2010
OK LA, I don’t hate you anymore. I almost love you.
I loved the AK47 lamp and the Holocaust memorial, I loved Gail’s house even though I didn’t sleep well, her house was a work of art.  I loved the woman pushing her two dogs in a stroller through Nordstroms, I loved the cheese and meat plate and the calamari and martinis we had at the Whisper Lounge and that the maitre d came over and asked if I was Chantal.  I loved that my daughter loves us again, especially her father. I loved how she looked at him and how happy she was to see us and that she shared the earrings I gave her with her friend Julie. I loved her friend Danielle who made me laugh. Hard. 

I love the dishes we splurged on, it made the rustic plum cake taste even better and I didn’t think that was possible. 

I love being home.



And did I mention, how much I love
you Mr Dishwasher?

August 9, 2010
OK LA, I don’t hate you anymore. I almost love you.
I loved the AK47 lamp and the Holocaust memorial, I loved Gail’s house even though I didn’t sleep well, her house was a work of art.  I loved the woman pushing her two dogs in a stroller through Nordstroms, I loved the cheese and meat plate and the calamari and martinis we had at the Whisper Lounge and that the maitre d came over and asked if I was Chantal.  I loved that my daughter loves us again, especially her father. I loved how she looked at him and how happy she was to see us and that she shared the earrings I gave her with her friend Julie. I loved her friend Danielle who made me laugh. Hard. 

I love the dishes we splurged on, it made the rustic plum cake taste even better and I didn’t think that was possible. 

I love being home.



And did I mention, how much I love
you Mr Dishwasher?

August 9, 2010
OK LA, I don’t hate you anymore. I almost love you.
I loved the AK47 lamp and the Holocaust memorial, I loved Gail’s house even though I didn’t sleep well, her house was a work of art.  I loved the woman pushing her two dogs in a stroller through Nordstroms, I loved the cheese and meat plate and the calamari and martinis we had at the Whisper Lounge and that the maitre d came over and asked if I was Chantal.  I loved that my daughter loves us again, especially her father. I loved how she looked at him and how happy she was to see us and that she shared the earrings I gave her with her friend Julie. I loved her friend Danielle who made me laugh. Hard. 

I love the dishes we splurged on, it made the rustic plum cake taste even better and I didn’t think that was possible. 

I love being home.



And did I mention, how much I love
you Mr Dishwasher?

August 3, 2010

All is quiet on the home front.

I’m almost finished with my knitting project which has been in progress for over a month now.
Mostly working the same 20 rows or so but the end is in sight and then I’m back to my machine. Maybe.

Garden tour
here.



August 3, 2010

All is quiet on the home front.

I’m almost finished with my knitting project which has been in progress for over a month now.
Mostly working the same 20 rows or so but the end is in sight and then I’m back to my machine. Maybe.

Garden tour
here.



August 3, 2010

All is quiet on the home front.

I’m almost finished with my knitting project which has been in progress for over a month now.
Mostly working the same 20 rows or so but the end is in sight and then I’m back to my machine. Maybe.

Garden tour
here.



August 3, 2010

The time has come to dig up and move this Agapanthus that has lived by our front door since we moved here thousands of years ago.
The front yard isn’t what it used to be, a picket fenced, sun filled flower basket. It’s a secret shady
green room and an Agapanthus
has no business there. As with the
Mutabilis, I couldn’t imagine any
human being capable of actually digging it up and moving it but since witnessing that event, I 
now know anything can and will be
moved if I so decree it.
I’ve got the power. Not on
me, but near me. Living in the same house. 





















































No matter how many times I yank out this Nasturtium, without my  noticing, it creeps back in and depending on how you look at it, 
can seem either threatening to strangle that poor Buddha who is losing it’s head,or gently
embracing him.  

I’m not a hater. I like the
Nasturtium. I like that it
does it’s thing with no effort on 
my part other than yanking it out
when it gets too crazy. That’s my kind of plant.











































The newly planted bed in front of Buff Beauty is doing…not much.
The Lychnis hasn’t put on one
centimeter of growth and neither have the Scabiosa or the Peruvian Lily. I’m just happy they’re 
alive. Behind them, to the right
is a Pineapple Sage which has yet to flower this year, but since it’s real charm is the fragrance of pineapple in the leaves, the flowers are not that big a deal.











































As always, the critters come to the yard to loll about or hide as is the case with the critter above. After a romp in the ocean, it’s always best to hide as soon as one gets home or to look 
really threatening.

July 21, 2010

Wednesday

I think of myself as a very sensitive person. I’m sensitive to people, places…bees.
I watch for signs of disturbance. 

I am aware that I could be making it all up, that my sensitivity is most likely not connected to the world outside my own head. I’m not really picking up on someone’s feelings, just reacting to my own.
I can’t help it, there’s no place else to go. My head is the only place I can be.

Yesterday, when I looked out in the yard and realized Tearful had taken down a fence two days ago,and that I had walked by it several times and not noticed it was gone, my little world shifted.


It doesn’t take much.






 

July 21, 2010

Wednesday

I think of myself as a very sensitive person. I’m sensitive to people, places…bees.
I watch for signs of disturbance. 

I am aware that I could be making it all up, that my sensitivity is most likely not connected to the world outside my own head. I’m not really picking up on someone’s feelings, just reacting to my own.
I can’t help it, there’s no place else to go. My head is the only place I can be.

Yesterday, when I looked out in the yard and realized Tearful had taken down a fence two days ago,and that I had walked by it several times and not noticed it was gone, my little world shifted.


It doesn’t take much.






 

July 21, 2010

Wednesday

I think of myself as a very sensitive person. I’m sensitive to people, places…bees.
I watch for signs of disturbance. 

I am aware that I could be making it all up, that my sensitivity is most likely not connected to the world outside my own head. I’m not really picking up on someone’s feelings, just reacting to my own.
I can’t help it, there’s no place else to go. My head is the only place I can be.

Yesterday, when I looked out in the yard and realized Tearful had taken down a fence two days ago,and that I had walked by it several times and not noticed it was gone, my little world shifted.


It doesn’t take much.