A Full Circle

Shopping for underwear at the Gap.

I forgot my clothes.  I’m not fully sunk into dementia as I remembered to bring my meds and my underwear, but my good out-to-dinner clothes were left behind on the bedroom door.

Friday Bee drove through the hell of LA traffic, through the smoke from the wildfires, with a husband in pain, a dog behaving psychotically, and a passenger worried about clothes.  Yes, we ate a lovely minestrone in their delightful purple living room, but their dog, a rescue dog from a very traumatic puppyhood, couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t sit down, back and forth, back and forth he rocked making me worry even more.  Mikey turned as white as his hair.  They retreated to bed.  Yes, I stayed up later with my own meds and was to bed by ten.

Saturday Bee and I went shopping.  JCPenney’s with a coupon.  No coupon when we got there.  It was back on the kitchen counter.  I found grey pants, lime green shirt, and a black overshirt.  All  malls are the same tho.  Bee didn’t remember when she had ever been to Penney’s.  She did get eye shadow and powder at MAC.  She did get underwear at the Gap.  Nordie’s Rack produced a really nice loose knit shirt, a grey shirt, a black shirt, and a load of guilt for spending all that money.  I never shop like that but I am grateful to stores that carry larger sizes.

Miss La De DA in her wonderful shop.

On the way back to Mikey and Bee’s, we stopped at the wonderful jewelry store.  “Collectible Glitz” Miss La De Da calls it.  Bee found the prize…an Indian crafted arrow.  I found a green died stone necklace.  Hours later, all decked out, we found the dinner arts group had faded to one other couple.  The five of us regaled ourselves with Italian.  Again Mikey turned pure white.

Beautiful repetitions.

Sunday after a wonderful dash to a farmers market, we drove the mostly empty freeways to Long Beach.  Bee has a piece in the fundraising auction there, and she wanted to see how it worked.  It didn’t.  It’s an interesting piece but it vanishes into its frame.  Bee worried about it.  We ate lunch At Clare’s in the Anderson house…a marvelous 1910 pile of brick and wood, looking out over the storm tossed ocean and angry grey skies.  Lunch perked us both up.  We found solutions to the framing nightmare.  I got peeks at the Queen Mary resting over there across the bay, and we headed toward Van Nuys and a train ride home.

Bee went out of her way, in the midst of her own chaos of two sets of leaving guests, the dog, the husband, and more arriving guests, to treat me like a queen. 

Today Lessa called excitedly to say that she was on her way to pick up her cap and gown.  How much better can it all get.

Clare’s.

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Keeping those on the east coast in my thoughts.

Himself:  Put massive amounts of stuff away and cleaned out the garage so both cars can park inside once again.  Today he’s almost unmoving at his computer.

Herself:  I came home last night and dropped things behind me as I went.  Today I have to clean up after me then put more things away.

Reading:  An old Aaron Elkins, “Murder in the Queen’s Armes.”  Well written.  His last novel in this series will be "Dying on the Vine" set in Italy's Tuscany countryside.

Balance:  Home.

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