Back when Southwest had a sale, I bought a round-trip ticket to San Diego for about the price of dinner out, and so here I am, tucked up in Doriot’s spare bedroom, ready to celebrate my birthday tomorrow with friends I love. Of course I miss Bill terribly; I’ll see him in just over a week.
This afternoon, we went to Frock You, a favorite vintage clothing store, and I bought a crazed skirt from the 1960s and one of those insanely detailed little black slips from back in the day. And a pink knitted lace cardigan. It was great to see Kenny King, who runs the shop.
This is Kenny, showing one of my fine silver meditation dish-rings to some fish. They were enchanted, naturally.
After that, we stopped into a thrift store, and I bought a lovely old 1940 Colliers edition of two Kipling short story collections, written in the late 1800s. It’s a lovely small book, about 5 x 8, with pretty gold leaf on the spine and embossing on the cover, and it cost $1.20, and I think that’s lovely.
I’ll read myself to sleep, here in the hide-a-bed at Doriot’s house.
It was good to talk to Doriot about our project in progress, and to not bring even a single bead or piece of work with me. I’m simply existing; it’s lovely, and the garden is a riot of flowers, and the weather is perfect.
I send a virtual squeezle-the-weasel to Miss Fish, who runs down the hall exactly like a weasel, and always, no matter where we start from, beats me through the bedroom door. It’s like a little game she has, one of her many. Of course I wish I could bring her everywhere I go, but that isn’t how it works. I’d like to find Bill in every place I lay down to sleep as well, and a little chocolate on every pillow, and peppermint ice cream in every freezer case.
The three planets were lined up like a spear tonight, did you see them?