Thirty-five feet, what do you get?
The Ranch pool is so huge. Photos do not convey it at all- the thing is 35 feet long and 18 feet wide. It’s ten feet deep and all kinds of fun to swim in. At one point, it had a diving board, but it was removed to protect society.
My neighbors, Sam and Grace, still have theirs. I can hear their grandchildren jumping on it twice a year.
Orangelina has a beautiful sunflower growing in her personal aloe bed, which continues to be invaded by the goofy little baby Baron. She is frankly outraged and even went so far as to stuff herself under a brick when I came out to visit her at the crack of eleven (she does not welcome visitors before 10:30 and I like to give her a little space to freshen up).
She refused to even let me LOOK at her. I’m sure I’m not responsible.
For a minute, I was transported back to France.
During the insanely incredible massage I had at Carlisle’s (I’ve been going to see her for 25 years now, once a month if I can) I had a lot of ideas come together for me. This is wonderful and terrible.
It might be the case that more of the interviews I’m doing can stand alone; I won’t use them that way for the book, but I’ll certainly do the work that way. And I should do them well enough so that they can.
I said, “I need a tape recorder” and then I thought, silly rabbit, it’s still the future, just like last time you looked, and I checked my IPhone, and there it was, with a gorgeous compass, in the Utilities folder. It was like me saying back in spring, “I need a decibel meter!” Duh. I’m like scavenging in a drawer for some charming instrument with a leather case.
My IPhone is my flashlight, my compass, a scientific calculator, camera, huge reference library, music, film, light array, astronomical navigator, my secretary. If it was also a 3D printer, an ice pack, and a food replicator I’d be ready to walk off into the sunset.