Full and happy

Los Angeleno by birth, Northwesterner by choice, Second-hander by nature. Librarian, housebound chef, father, and lowly subject ruled over by the needs and whims of a very old house.
Partial to Mexican, Italian and Vietnamese cookery but will eat damn near anything. Collector of many strange things..the result is chaos and anarchy and a very pleasant place to live.
There is pleasure in accumulation, not just "collecting": music, books and film, in all their multi-formated glory. Outsider artists and those kinds of prints you would recognize if you took liberal studies classes in college. Cooking implements and gadgets for recipes still untried or those ventured. Glasses for most types of libations. Flowers in the garden, herbs in the pot.
It's a life of the senses and a good home life reflects that. Walking helps take in all the rest. Requires no special equipment, opens up the pores, brightens the taste buds, clears the decks for further adventures, puts on the miles, widens the eyes and helps fuel the imagination.

Live boldly, play graciously and love with all your heart knowing that true love comes only once or twice in this lifetime. Speaking of which..donde estas, Empress of my Heart?


"Lack imagination and miss the better story" Yann Martel

"Life is a great adventure and I want to say to you, accept it in such spirit. I want to see you face it ready to do the best that lies in you to win out. To go down without complaining and abiding by the result....the worst of all fears is the fear of living." Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.

"Not I - not anyone else, can travel that road for you
You must travel it for yourself" Walt Whitman

And above all, friends should possess the rare gift of sitting. They should be able, no, eager, to sit for hours-three, four, six-over a meal of soup and wine and cheese, as well as one of twenty fabulous courses.

Then, with good friends of such attributes, and good food on the board, and good wine in the pitcher, we may well ask,

When shall we live if not now?

-From Serve it Forth,
M.F.K. Fisher

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Boy as packhorse

We started out our evening knowing we were in for a long walk. The idea was to hit up a second hand and come home with a couple pair of shorts, catch something to eat along the way. Instead we went a bit crazy and bought an awful lot of stuff. Four games, a dozen movies, about ten cookbooks, a ton of Garfield titles, a nice quality knife, miscellaneous kitchen gadgets, a half dozen shirts and finally a couple pairs of shorts.

It must have looked funny seeing us walk home last night, two cats humping home big bags full of loot clearly marked Goodwill. At times I felt a bit guilty, as only a 51 year old man can. For a moment or two I felt that no teenager should be subjected to this, but then I thought about all those walks I took when I was a young man and knew it wasn't going to kill him. Besides, we tucked in at King's Teriyaki and ate well before our long slog home. I distributed the load so that he wouldn't have a hellacious and discouraging walk. We stopped when we needed to and I salted the walk with the promise of a comedy and dessert once we got home.

We came in the door and plopped our bags down in the kitchen and broke out the scale. Since the movies and books were my jones I carried the bulk of weight, but still, he carried almost twenty pounds worth of goods over two and half miles. I was proud of him. That's the kind of thing that builds character and bone mass. All to the good. And man, you should see those shirts he got! Wow!


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