the dampness of carparks

The top of the Royal Street carpark, drying out, but that won't be for long.  

Why should Royal Street, however, be called Royal Street?  I suppose, maybe, possibly, improbably, but why not? someone wanted to evoke the old Camino Real, linking the Jesuit Missions - not that I'm confusing the car park with one of these structures, and in any case, the CR more or less followed the 101, not the 110, which is the freeway by campus.  That is, the 101 followed the route of ... Or maybe it's named after the Royal Cinema, which was a theater that opened in the 1940s and showed Latino films.

I can't find any regal connection between the street and the Shrine Auditorium, opposite the carpark (Royal Street runs up its side), so I was on the point of saying No Kings, until I found, at last, a Kingly connection: the scenes in King Kong where the giant ape is chained and displayed on stage were filmed in the Shrine.  I think this is what's known as an interpretive stretch.

 

bathroom assemblage

Not, by any means, a deliberate assemblage, but a surprising combination that caught my eye as I was exiting the bathroom this morning: some drying clothes (not ones for the drying machine, and it's not exactly the weather to hang anything out of doors); the window tied shut (it blows open in storms, with wind) with a string from some pyjamas; and hanging from its knob, a Northern New Mexico sage bundle, with grasses and dried statice and some red twine.  Hang it in your bathroom, said the woman at the Farmers Market.  It'll make it smell wonderful.  It didn't, of course, make any difference, but it looks pretty...

 

when it rains ...

... it really rains - that is to say, pours.  The garden seems to have grown a great deal more green stuff very quickly - that is, where plants haven't drowned in water-logged pots or bits of ground; and out on the street, in front, we have a fast flowing hillside stream.  I think it's raining on and off for the next week ...

 

Gramsci, shoulder cat

For once, the tabby stole is gracing Alice's shoulders.  He's quite happy up there.  Indeed, he prefers moving around the house this way, much of the time, and he'll leap up there from a stair, a bed, a table, or when one's sitting down (as happened when I was in an administrative Zoom meeting on Friday).  If he can't find a suitable surface to launch himself from, then he yells at one to bend down.  When I go to the dermatologist, my shoulders are covered in a million scratches (he's especially lethal jumping from the bed when one's getting dressed or undressed).  And then he purrs.  Indeed, as I'm writing this at my study table, guess who's just arrived ...?  Of course, we find this utterly adorable.  If heavy.

 

around the 'hood

Because of various errands that needed running this morning, we found ourselves on a slightly different set of walks than usual.  Primarily, Alice's car needed a smog test, which is why we found ourselves parked outside a truck advertising, and possibly delivering, Donna's Pickle Beer.  Before this morning, I had no idea that there's such a thing on this earth as pickle beer.  Someone tell me if I want to try hops that have been blended with dill and cilantro and gherkin juice?  Who ever thought of that?

Reeling even from the contemplation of this beverage, we came upon these fire hydrants, and then a tree - look closely! - that's full of chandeliers.

Then taking the smog certificate, and check, to the mail at the Atwater Village post office, there was a little store next door to it with lots of cat themed gifts, and vintage clothes, and apparently some live kittens wanting rehoming, and a large orange plaster cat on the roof.  I'll be back, sometime soon, when it's open (not for the kittens, or Moth and Gramsci would never talk to me again) to investigate further ...

 

campus life

I'm not sure whether coyotes have been seen recently on our campus or not, but the warnings remain: warnings tastefully printed in the campus colors of cardinal and gold.  It's the season when groups of prospective and - for all I know - early admitted candidates are earnestly looking at where they're going to spend the next four years: I'm not sure how much of a selling point our local wildlife is (the squirrels are cute, but also, presumably, function as readily available coyote snacks), which is quite probably why this informative board is a little obscured from view.

 

Glendale's global welcome

To Glendale, to get my favorite carry-on suitcase's handle fixed at the Americana (I know: it's only taken me three months to find time for that) - and I was very happy to find a parking space by the public library: I always feel as though paying for parking in the Americana itself is giving even more money into Rick Caruso's pockets.  The junction box outside the library is wonderfully welcoming on all four sides - international architecture (in Glendale, you might well expect everything to be Armenian ...), and greeting you in a very polyglot way.  And nonetheless, there's a Californian poppy proudly in the center.