I am going to the Angels-Rangers game tonight. Good seats between home and first.
It's a relief.
Random strangers stop me on the street. "What happened here?" they ask, eyes wide and eager. I can't bite my tongue fast enough and I snap at them.
"Go read the newspaper."
I avert my eyes every time I pass the corner. I have to pass the corner several times a day. There is no escape. But I can't talk about it anymore. I won't.
It's time to plan winter crops--brassicas and lettuces--and start fall clean up. It's almost fire season. Again. I need to hire that architect. I need to pull out the front garden.
I have a bounty of blueberries. Tomorrow, I will make blueberry coffeecake for breakfast, and the spouse will wander off for his fantasy football draft. Then, the in-laws, and probably, bad Chinese food.
The Obama and McCain camps are fighting over...ME!
Boys, amaze me now.
Next week, I will make my first trip up to Los Angeles, barring issues.
Bills to pay, laundry to do, mending, meal planning.
The ocean, a museum, a coffeeshop, a streetscape.
Go listen to some good music: "Walk On" from the album All That You Can't Leave Behind by U2.