See how nicely the leather polished up?   And here's a favorite snap I've had for years and years and keep on my bulletin board -- I've cropped off the push-pin holes --  which  I like to always have on display with other important visuals and words of wisdom to remind me that... well, I realize just now it's fairly trite, if I actually put into words what it reminds me to do, but I think you get the idea.  Anyway, sometimes it is better, don't you agree, to save those thousand words and let the image do the work?

Meanwhile, with Didier gone again, there's an eerie silence this morning, punctuated by distant helicopter drone and baleful siren wailing, which sets off the dogs in the neighborhood, so I suppose you could say it is rather odd to speak of the silence being eerie, or silence at all for that matter, but I am referring to the absence of street traffic.  Today, you see, is the L.A. Marathon, and I am in the middle of the route, hemmed in on all sides, as it were.  Most of my neighbors have sensibly succumbed to being trapped and have hunkered down, the way the residents of West Hollywood, for example, do on Halloween or Gay Pride, surrendering to the unavoidable, but I am throwing caution to the wind and going to attempt an escape.  I have plotted a route which involves going south, then east on the 10 to the 110 and then north on the 101 in order to head west to Topanga.  It is no good trying to go west on the 10 since Lower Topanga from the Ocean is closed because of the Peace Parade, but I am headed for the mid to upper part of the canyon and may be able to find a way in from the Valley side.  Two lovely ladies have invited me out for a barbecue picnic, so how could I refuse?  

Of course as you can imagine, speaking of lovely ladies, my original plan also involved going out to visit Gloria (1904-1965) and Thelma (1904-1970) but with all the road and street closings I'd never make it to Culver City.

I just hope Anderson remembered to send flowers. 



Happy Memorial Day, my darlings.