The Rain and The Rain and The Rain and The Rain

It is going to be one hell of a vibrant Summer around here.

It's not even Spring yet, and it rains and it rains and it rains and it rains and it rains.

The good thing about that, though? Mistah is out there with the camera, taking photos of the puddles.

The color palette matches everybody's winter wardrobe.

There are many, many other things going on, of course. Books and movies and the Symphony and the Olympiad and dinners out and wine and curling and vacation planning and wine and gold medals and rain and books and wine and rain and curling and rain and books and rain.

And rain.

And one can see all sorts of interesting shapes and shadows and people and animals and images in puddles.

And rain.

But look on the bright side. The sun is out today.

And it is going to be one hell of a vibrant Summer around here . . .

Winter? Or Spring?

Saturday afternoon was beautiful.

It was warm -- well, warmish -- the clouds were gorgeous, the sun was shining, and we did what any self-respecting citizens would do at a time like that.

We hit the deck.

That selfsame deck later that night?

Bam.

We got home late that night after celebrating The Year of the Dog and when I went up to bed I yelled downstairs, "Mistah, get up here!"

. . . because this is how it looked out the window. I mean, it was nighttime, but Mistah is nothing if not fancy with that camera, so he made nighttime look like daytime. It was miraculous out there.

And then Sunday?

It really was daytime and gorgeously sunny and fully warm . . . .

. . . so we re-hit the deck. Where everything melted around us. [drip]

If a Winter weekend delivers one Wintery night sandwiched between two Springlike days? I can handle it.

. . . and March 20 is right around the corner.

bright and dark

A couple of days ago I was having a moment, so I did what I do when I have a moment. 

Ocean Therapy

It was a blustery day and the beach was pretty deserted other than surfers and weirdos. The sky was magnificent

It was low tide, so I walked down to the tidepools to see what I could see

lots of little critters in those crevices and pools

This one was sweet... can you see it?

It was Valentine's Day, after all

It rained a little bit as I started to make my way north to my car. I hung out under the pier for a couple of seconds but it didn't amount to anything

That sky, though

It started going crazy. It was seriously indecisive. 

These were all taken within about 3 minutes

I couldn't resist turning back to keep looking at that southern sky, it was wild and dark and stormy. But eventually, I turned toward the sun and headed back to my life.

Books and Movies and Music and Food

"What have you been up to?" people ask.

"What have I been up to? Why are you asking me? Who wants to know? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

But they don't. They do not leave me alone. They make me answer.

So fine. Fine. I'll answer. But I'm not going to get into it. I'm going to answer then get back to my book.

I've been reading a lot.

I've read this:

And this:

 And this:

And this:

And this:

 And this:

 And this:

 And I'm almost done with this:

And in the Garde Arts Center winter movie fest we've seen this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

Ever since the Symphony, we cannot stop listening to this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And food? We have double-handedly kept the greater New London metropolitan area restaurant industry in business.

We have eaten here:

Mr. D's

And here:

Mr. Rod's

And here:

Okay, okay, I guess I'll have to go into it a little, since I couldn't
steal any good photos that included the restaurant's name.
This is Go Fish.

And here:

Steak Loft. We had only drinks here. After Go Fish.

And here:

Lazy Leopard Sushi Side.
That sushi, man.

And here:

As advertised.

And here:

2 Wives with our 2 Girls.
Fabulous salad and pizza pie.

And here:

New London Coffee Shop? Yes. But don't let that facade fool you. Jose made us the meanest, baddest, most awesome steak burrito this side of San Diego on Friday night . . .

And on Saturday night? Happily, joyfully, finally, deliciously . . .

. . . here:

. . . we're baaaaaaaack.

babydollface

Guess who came to visit last weekend? Colleen Beenie Brideykins Babydollface! It was brief but brilliant. I like her. She brought her dude along, I like him too! Except we need to talk a LOT more about show tunes. Actually, we need to sing a lot more about show tunes.

When they first arrived, I sat next to Colleen on the couch and tried to focus on what she was saying to me, but all I could think about was how that face of hers looks exactly the same as when she was a bald baby. And I was having a flashback to a school photo that she looked just like, so I made her do a portrait smile

I'm not 100% sure this is the photo I was thinking of, but it totally works. 

Brenton's auntie was a long for the fun in the early evening, and we enjoyed a few delicious beverages down by the seashore.

Ah, young love. 

Then we hung out at home and caught up with the kids and Brenton inspired me to figure out how to make it so that Alexa only heeds the commands that MY voice issues.

Soon it was morning, and the two lovely lovebirds had to get themselves on the road for grown up-ish responsibilities that were NOT on a SuperBoat

But they left a little bit of themselves behind

And, they brought back some invaluable mementos that served a special purpose way back when our LaLa girl first brought herself to the left coast

Remember?

THURSDAY, MAY 24, 2012

LaLa Girl

The left side of my neck is fully jacked up. My shoulder is also in a state of dismay, and all of the muscles in my upper arm (mah guns) are sore. I suppose that is to be expected after helping somebody move.  And what a move it was... our lovely Chapel Hill Carrboro LaLa girl has been transplanted!

You can imagine the amount of stuff that a young woman on the brink of greatness would bring along on a cross country relocation.  She had two whole duffel bags! And a messenger bag. And, I think, a wallet.

It was hard!

I took the day off and drove up to LAX to meet my scrumptious niece, who had done gone and bought herself a one way ticket to LaLa land. She's got a job and an apartment and more potential in her wee tiny pinkie tootsie than any of us mere mortals have in our whole selves, including our imaginations. But at least we have beds. 
 

Oh. Nevermind.

But wait, let me back up. I got to the airport stupidly early, not knowing if I'd hit traffic or lose a tire or something. Colleen's flight was delayed so I got to hang out for a while and watch the freakshow. I was so wrapped up in one couple's riveting saga that I almost didn't even see our girl descending on  the escalator! So I didn't catch the arrival photo. I didn't catch most of the obligatory photos, and once again I did not have a Schlekah at my disposal. Not even one. But I had my girl with her pink mountain lungs, and I felt terrible about bringing her outside into the gray heavy air of Los Angeles.

Because the universe is a magical fairy land, it just so happened that Julie and Colleen had an acquaintance in Asheville who wanted to rid himself of a bed in a house just a few blocks from Colleen's new apartment. That's the house in the photo above, the one with the narrow staircase, see? We considered flinging the mattress like a frisbee from the top of the stairs to the hilly street below where my car was parked, but then Colleen had the brilliant idea to just slide the mofo down the railing. The flinging would have been more flamboyant and fun, but this was okay too. I thought it was important to capture that moment up there. Look how much fun! As soon as we got to the bottom, a friendly neighbor popped over to hoist the mattress up onto my roof for us, and then he scurried off, leaving us to secure the thing with some pretty orange rope I'd bought just that morning.

We didn't know what we were doing per se, there was no method to our fastening. We just threw the rope thing back and forth to each other, alternating over and under the roof rack, at one point we opted to go through the back windows, we enlisted the mattresses grab handles and tied complicated knots and we kept it up until the mattress was snug as a bug. Then we crossed our fingers and climbed in and got ready to head down the hill.   

We opened the sun roof because... well, because we could. And I thought it was very important to keep a close eye on the mattress to make sure it wasn't moving.

I got a little nervous when we started to drive. I could clearly see a scene unfold in my mind's eye: the mattress would fly off of the car and land on the street or the windshield of the car behind me, causing me to be horrified beyond belief and/or murdered in cold blood by a raging roadster. At the very least I would probably cause a traffic problem in LA at 5pm on a Tuesday, and I would definitely get shot.

It was going fairly well, though. We didn't have to get on the freeway in between addresses, and the first few turns were quiet residential streets where I could go very slowly and we could all focus on my shrieking accusations that IT IS MOVING! And Colleen's quiet reassurances that it was not.  We each had an arm out of our window to keep tabs on the mattress, in my case keeping tabs meant maintaining a death grip that caused all of the muscles on the left side of my arm and torso to seize and revolt, thus rendering mah guns and neck so shamefully flummoxed the next day.   

Then we had to go on a bit of a bigger, more populated avenue to reach our destination. We were expected to drive a little faster, but we could feel the front of the mattress lifting upward against the force of the oncoming wind, and that lifting was almost enough to send me straight into hysterics.  

Almost, but not quite.

There came a certain point when I got tired of holding on to the mattress out my window. It was uncomfortable and annoying and it wasn't doing anything to prevent or delay the inevitable carnage, so I just let go. Colleen was impressed with my ability to so suddenly completely change my disposition on the matter, but I am nothing if not a woman of surprising strength and calm in the face of probable crashing and murder.

And guess what? We made it.

What were you so worried about, Colleen?

As we untied the complicated knots to release the mattress from its bondage, a man walked up the street pulling his two grandchildren in a little red radio flyer wagon. He pointed at me and said "watch the kids" then asked Colleen where the mattress was going and promptly popped it up on top of his head and carried it right up the stairs into her second story apartment and into her empty new bedroom. I kept busy winding the rope back onto its cage thingie while one of the kids fell out of the wagon.

And then we unloaded the few silly things I had managed to bring along from my house that I thought might help a girl on the move feel more settled in to a big, strange new city. It's the little things, after all: sheets and peanut butter and a lamp made by her Jidoo.

Swoon, goes my heart.

It was really hot out. I brought her the hot comforter hoping that she's a cold sleeper. I did think the cooler comforter would be better, but I felt bad after taking it directly off of my sleeping son to put in my car, so I gave it back to him.

Then we decided to go out for a bite before I had to hit the road back south. We laid on the floor in her empty apartment and yelped nearby mexican restaurants, finding the exactly perfect place and then driving around in concentric circles (me) instead of looking at the directions (her) to get there. 

Here Colleen is telling me about her very interesting work and hopes and dreams while I take note that her nose hoop matches the purple of the mural's bougainvillea perfectly

It was a big day, a day full of adventure and life changing risk taking and possibilities.

I bet it was exciting for Colleen, too.

Welcome to the left coast, LaLa Girl! Never forget that I can be there in less time than it takes to watch a feature length film.

I'm not sure about a documentary.