geometry

Is there anything more perfect than a sleeping Moth in her basket?  And whilst you're at it, you might want to count not just circles, but triangles, starting with her pretty ears, and then looking at holes in the wooden bench, the carpet, the angles of light.  She's getting as much sleep as possible: they both of them know (bags everywhere) that they'll be on the road tomorrow, and they will expect to be nice and active and bouncing off the furniture all through the llight at La Posada, I'm sure ...

 

winding down

... that would both be the plants outside, and us, working hard at our packing and cleaning and generally trying to assure Gramsci (Moth is much more laid back) that we won't be leaving him here.  I remember a colleague back at Rutgers - Myra Jehlen - hearing my lamentations one day about decamping from New Jersey to New Mexico at the end of one semester or another, and from the vantage point of someone with a house in Vermont, she advised me just to keep one of everything in each place.  I can see the value of that when it comes to ... vacuum cleaners, say; but books?  And I'm not going to have duplicate copies of my favorite clothes.  And what about Moth's specialist cat food?  And so on ...

 

pies

I'm not a big pie eater - or, if that sounds improbably puritanical, I'm not a big pastry easter: I will happily munch my way through the interior of any number of pies, sweet or savory.  But the array as we left Harry's this evening was extraordinarily impressive (the pie cupboard was being tidied out for the evening before these all go back to have a good night's sleep), and even I, despite being full of tinga de pollo tacos, was very tempted .. (no, I didn't succumb.  But it could have been a close call).

 

not the most picturesque of views

... but for the bevy of stucco-menders and layers; the carpenter; the painters; the handymen who have been passing through this place and who will continue to do so for the next few weeks, one imagines that it's a very welcome sight.

The people who may be less happy, however - or the person - would be the realtor selling the house on the left - now 52 days on the market, and its owners long ago having departed for Brooklyn.  Somehow the deliverers of this useful tiny edifice have deposited it in the sightline of just about the one window that doesn't look out into an overgrown tree ...

 

more rearrangement ...

The stuccoing, the mending, and the rest of it continues ... We've had to pull all the plant pots away from the house and the walls and into the middle of the yard - where they look quite good massed together, especially with the solar powered lights stuck in them (relocated from the edge of the terrace, so workers don't trample on them) ...

 

Zozobra week!

 

It's Zozobra week!  Old Man Gloom will go up in flames on Friday night in Fort Marcy Park (luckily a bear has descended from a tree there and ambled off), full of things that people want to get rid of written on little pieces of paper - bad things that they've said or done or thought (a bit like a confessional), or, let's say, the name of the president.  We won't, I think, be there (although I've always rather wanted to go) - but I'm happy to celebrate him in virtual form, here in a mural on the back of a closed dry cleaners on Cerrillos.  

September sky

Hard to believe that we've arrived at September, but when I went for a (literally) fast walk this evening, I could more or less tell myself that there was a faint sense of fall in the air.  Another way of putting it: it's time the Dodgers got their act together ...