it’s saturday night and i’m home alone eating twizzlers for dinner with the urge to write.
hugh went for an overnight to a friend’s 40th birthday where they have rented out an old hotel in benicia. the theme is to dress how you would when you are retired. there is a woman who comes in the restaurant who is about 90 and wears a purple baseball hat with flowers on them and lace sneakers. i vote for that outfit. he left in the most amazing plaid polyester and bright white bulky sneaks. i know i’m getting mature, and boring, when i opt out of an overnight party to watch rented project runway and a bath (well, and i was a bit hungover from 3 glasses of champagne last night and don’t want to repeat. oh yes, i am old.) mostly, i feel psyched to have time to myself tonight. how i’ve missed my blog;)
today i sat on a big rock at baker beach with my dear friend donna, one side nudes, the other the golden gate bridge.
the ocean…. i try to pretend that the busy street in front of my house sounds like the sea, but sitting there i know i’m a fool.
after walking the beach we had an all out lunch of a chocolate shake, burger and fries and stories of first loves.
processing donna’s move. 20 years in SF and now moving to arizona to re-invent. adventure awaits! i will miss her so, and her daughter sequoia too. boo hoo.
i’m thinking of the old irish man i keep i running into at my community garden who asks me to identify a flower he remembers from his youth in ireland… purple and spikey and tropical looking. he must be nostalgic for home, to come to the garden and read. strawberries and fresh lettuce growing in mine, that is the most satisfying thing ever, especially after thinking it would be dryed up after my vacation.
i’m contemplating starting a more sophisticated shoppe for handmade goods and art. any ideas? for some reason, i like the name “little teeth” (cute, but fierce?) or sweet teeth? also “Maybe Rose” from an Anne Sexton poem: “A Story for Rose on The Midnight Flight to Boston” and clearly a play on my name and MAYbe too confusing. maybe, maybe not.
“Maybe Rose, there is always another story…”
i do like my current suspect shoppe, but i think it must make the mail carriers suspicious?
i need to stop it with the twizzlers and let the runway fashions to begin (i don’t have channels, so am a bit out of the loop).
sorry no pictures tonight, just words. there is a woman dramatically yelling into her cell phone in spanish right now outside my window… a lovers feud perhaps?