I was lying in bed in Echo Park when it came. A rumble and a jiggle jiggle. Not very dramatic and I wasn’t sure, so I got on Twitter and sure enough, lots of Angelinos were reporting the same. A 3.9 earthquake. Or as some locals put it, an alarm clock.
It’s our last day here and grey. I’m childishly wishing we could teleport back. You know — close our eyes, nod, and whoosh! It’s another early flight, but at least it’s direct.
These might be the same birds that Nancy photographed recently? (Just kidding)
I’m not glad that the Dodgers lost last night, but since we’re staying pretty close to the stadium, it made our evening trip back to Echo Park simpler. Even though the game was in Atlanta, the revelry might’ve spilled out into Sunset Boulevard.
C. came for dinner and the game last night. It was so nice and also bittersweet knowing we won’t see him again until January. But we have plans for January, as of a half hour ago!
My brother’s condition is much, much improved. Confined to a chair for the most part, but interested in company, in food, in sports, and so much more. There was a long stretch where that was not the case.
His East Los Angeles home is situated on Mount Washington and feels like a sanctuary. So, so lovely and quiet! I can think of worse places to be stuck, I said. He agreed.
P.S. It’s not lost on me that my suburban neighborhood is noisier. Living where I do is to be assaulted by relentless, invasive, nerve-grinding noise on very nearly a daily basis. It’s so much quieter here! In Los Angeles.
I’ll end with a little eye candy.
Bougainvillea blossoms litter the yard like the tears of a passing angel. The pool, mid-repair, gapes like a wound. Another one.
Birdsongs I don’t recognize stitch at the margins of sky. I’ve learned that at least some of the songs are produced by a pair of mockingbirds. Irritating, mischievous creatures. My brother despises them and wishes he had a BB gun.
My back hurts the usual amount. Took Tylenol yesterday. It helped. But even with my hands crabbed with arthritis and my achy sore spine, around here it’s hard not to feel like a locomotive fueled by blessings.