Los Angeles, California: I am in LA for a few days, visiting the kids while DT is in Portland for track & field meetings. I drove over this morning - quite a feat for me, as I rarely drive more than a bit around the neighborhood. Though sight-impaired, I do have a license to drive and all I have to do is get behind someone and follow them to Los Angeles on the interstate.
The worst part about driving 130 miles to Los Angeles from Indio is having to put fuel in the car. One of the best (of many) perks of living in The Great State of Oregon most of my life: it is illegal to fuel your own car. Illegal. We are so civilized. In Oregon, you pull up to the fuel island, hand an attendant your credit card or cash, tell him/her what you want and they put the juice in your fuel tank, hand you a receipt and you never have to leave your car unless you really really really want a Slurpee.
Since I rarely drive, and since My Driver usually does the nasty fueling task, this could have been the fourth or fifth time in my life to put gas in a tank. I can read. I have a debit card. I did it.
The plan was to arrive to Los Angeles in time to fetch Leo from school and go out for lunch. Everything worked out - though the drive took longer than usual due to 1) I don't drive as fast as DT and, 2) a single occupant is not allowed in the always-flowing carpool/HOV lane. Dang.
We went to lunch at Fred 62 - one of my favorite little spots in Los Angeles. Recently remodeled, this 50's-style retro diner serves breakfast all day and they also smoke beef short ribs into pastrami heaven in their parking lot. Fred 62 opened 16 years ago and they have never closed. And I mean, they have never closed. Always open.
spicy mustard, on a potato roll
This sandwich was nearly as delicious as my table mate:Lucy is six months old tomorrow! How did that happen?
Lisa and Lenny are turning the guest room into Lucy's nursery and guests are now relegated to a (very comfortable air-bed-mattress) hide-a-bed in the den.The focal point in the nursery is a rattan rocker. It is the rocker Dave bought a few weeks before I gave birth to Lisa, 33 years ago, in The Philippines. This summer, he dragged the chair out of the attic and spent hours refinishing the rattan and cane, sanding and giving it many coats of linseed oil. He loaded it into the back of the Honda when we headed south this winter. I remember spending much of 1981-84 in that chair! This little sweetheart loves the rocking chair - just like her Momma. Leo climbed into Lucy's crib - his old crib - during my tour of the nursery. Lucy never takes her eyes off Leo. She follows his every move and grins like mad when he pays her attention. They are so cute together.
Lisa butterflied a chicken and roasted it on top of cauliflower florets, garbanzo beans and lemon slices for a lovely family dinner. Super delicious, one pan, easy.
Until my next update, I remain, your LA correspondent.