i’m poking my head up from packing and sorting and all of that to say hello. how are you? i’ve had my eye on the horizon for weeks scanning for plumes of smoke, but not to worry smoke and flames are nowhere near the little hillside in northeast los angeles that i call home.
climate change has brought a longer, more destructive fire season here to california, and more extreme weather to all of us in general. it’s a wild ride we’re in for, but i guess we’ll adapt.
i’ve been testing out various white tints of paint for the walls and trim of moss cottage; which are finally, after years and years, getting brightened.
whitetail for the walls and ceiling. extra white semi-gloss for the trim. the walls of my art room, as seen below are being plastered. i had the most dreadful orange peel texture in there and the walls were a dingy beige.
in addition to painting i have a slew of other handyman problems that hector is fixing. squeaky doors that stick, a plywood wall that’s being removed, holes repaired, and gutters cleaned. out with the old, in with the new and all that business.
home repair tends to go in spurts with me. much of it dependent on finding a Reliable Person to do the job. here in LA that is v.v. difficult. out of work actors, stuntmen, people on the lam, and ne’er do wells are attracted to “handyman” work. i have an internal magnet that reels them in it seems.
crossing fingers that hector turns out to be the exception rather than the rule.
in other unrelated news, i recently went to the central library downtown to breathe in the ambiance and revisit my old haunt. how good it was to see everything just as i’d left it over a decade ago.
i recently finished the saga of the central library fire via susan orlean’s marvelous – THE LIBRARY BOOK. how i devoured every word, hung on one lovely line after another.
these words in particular from an essay contest about the library shortly after it burned:
for years i was a castle in the library, sharing a countryside of silence, in silence, with others similarly locked in their own solitude
i wandered the halls and various departments. poring over all the new books which is how i discovered AFTER THE FLOOD. which by the way, is thoroughly readable, enjoyable and dare i say, unputdownable. well there. i said it.
as if i wasn’t giddy enough just being in the central library, there was an ansel adams exhibit chronicling a year he spent photographing the city of angels and her residents.
and there was a bookplate exhibit!
naturally, i was drawn to the seascapes.
after relying on kindle and audible for so long i’m afraid the public library fell by the wayside, but i’m back on board. checking out books and reading up a storm.
i’m patching together this blog post here at my plastic covered desk in the living room where i sit looking at these old walls. hector just popped over for a consultation before he begins tomorrow’s work. the cat posse are sprawled on the dusty floor dozing at my feet and i’m getting ready to join them. not on the floor of course but reclining on my bed with the new leif enger book. oh joy!
i hope you’ll see fit to regale me with news from your end of the world. what you’re planting, what you’re cooking, what you’re reading, where you’re off to. that sort of thing.
on my bookshelf