Saturday is my favorite day, like bourbon almond brittle is my favorite ice cream. I am speechless at the beauty of everything outside right now. I should be walking in the mountains, but I love being here at the Ranch so much that I rarely leave.
One of my summer projects is to work on the excellent Barbie Coach, a 1956 Traveleze with two single bunks. I’d like to get the little kitchen and bathroom working; they each have pretty little cast iron pink sinks, and there is a full shower as well. Yesterday afternoon, I was trying to get model shots of my new bangle, and was mostly unsuccessful in terms of featuring the beadwork, but I did get a nice Girl and Her Travel-Eze portrait.
I woke up in a kind of a funk this morning, which might possibly have had something to do with drinking a half of a liter of Chianti last night at Caruso’s. But it was so delicious! And I was with Susan, and we ate huge gorgeous plates of Southern Italian food and salad, and the birds were chittering in the cyprus trees, and the patio filled up around us as we dined. It was very festive and I would definitely do it all over again, especially the half liter of Chianti.
I medicated my case of existential angst with a swim and an hour with the birds (although I could have tried Tylenol as well, as I learned listening to Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me a few weeks ago that it seems to alleviate that condition).
And I listened to a little music.
IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when the Baronet and Mrs. B. showed up to the feeder this morning with a child. I about fell over. I’ve been puzzling over why the heck they haven’t been on a nest, when in fact the two weeks I was gone must have been a time of sitting and hatching. Hopefully there is another chick or two to meet.
Their baby was adorable, with a little crest and a black beak, doing that shivery cheep-cheep thing they do when they ask for food.
As if that weren’t enough, IMAGINE MY DELIGHT when I saw Alexander sitting on a brick. It’s been almost a week since I saw him last, and I was getting philosophical about him. He seemed to sense my thrill at the sight of him, and he turned his head this way and that, showing me his goldy today-colours and dark black and purple neck stripe.
Photo, “The White Idiot”, from the Henri videos