It is clear I have a thing about homes with towers. Maybe 15 years ago I used to take this bus once a week to a part of town I was unfamiliar with to see a Zen teacher therapist and I would go by this older house with a tower off in this seemingly inaccessible area and it always intrigued me. Every week I would look for it.
Then the therapist moved across town and I didn’t think of it until I started the job from the second ring of hell that I retired from last year. Wandering around at lunchtime I realized I could see the house and eventually I moved over here and went exploring and found it. When the freeway was added and broke up the neighborhood, they picked the house up off its foundation and turned it to face another direction to give it a buffer from the traffic.
That house isn’t a house at all, it is an apartment building with thin walls but gorgeous wood and over a century of history. Right now the young people that live there (it has got to be freezing in winter) have created a little oasis in the hidden front yard.
So that brings me to the house pictured above. This house as the crow flies is in direct line with the tower house apartments. There just happens to be a big honking freeway between them now. But I swear, having just discovered this place last month on the island created by the freeway, these buildings are sisters.
I took this picture this morning just after sunrise, out wandering early to beat the heat. This place is in pretty bad shape and there have been some unfortunate modifications but from this side you get a glimpse of what it was like back in the day. It is just across the street from the neighborhood school built in the 1920s.
This place is at least 40 years older.
Someday, when I am comfortable going back to the library and historical society I will find out their official relationship but for now I am content with the link I have made in my own mind.
Tomorrow Most Honorable is coming up early, it was too darn hot on Thursday, and we are exploring the area around my most recent tower house mystery.
Then I am going over to The Sherlock’s for lunch in the garden.
I made zucchini bread with orange zest and pistachios this week, and a marvelous simple sweet potato and chard gratin but when I went to make risotto this afternoon, I realized I had a lot less Arborio rice than I thought. This means adventures in cooking are on hold right now.
Diego is much better. He is snoring gently next to me here. He has these, awful, very bad days and then he is okay. I am pretty sure his condition is chronic and not life threatening but Wednesday was so bad I thought I was going to lose my mind. It all will probably shorten his life, but he is one feisty little guy. Mr. Finch would have adored him.
Every time he has a crisis, I learn more about what he needs. And I hope I can get him stabilized and keep him comfortable. It is a lot though. It reminds me that I used to periodically came unglued in all my previous caretaking roles. And that coming unglued is part of the deal, uncomfortable as it is.
Can I just say that I have had about enough of men with guns, or teenage boys with guns deciding that it is their job to protect something or someone that has not asked for said protection?
Also, this killing and being killed on the streets during this horrid pandemic summer is so sad and unnecessary. All it does is distract and displace attention from the matter at hand.
That is how I feel right now. Sad. Us white presenting folks had a good long run over the last 40 years of a comfortable life, an advantaged life without having to deal with the greed and exploitation of those on this land before us. I don’t think that is possible anymore.
All the world is a stage and what we do on it now matters.
Being kind is what matters to me. No matter how bad it gets we can all muster a bit of that.
Last updated September 04, 2020