the aviation, an indian gardeness, and two big dogs

French melodies from Camille wafting down the freeway.

Took a walk through my neighborhood late this morning and met a lovely Indian gardeness named Sicily.  I'd often seen her peacock-shaped pine bush and lovely tomato plants while strolling past and had never had the honor of meeting the person responsible until today.  She showed us her "yasmine" plant that was just budding and would be a powerfully fragrant blossomer tomorrow.  Sicily and Zacharias (her husband) are in their 49th year of marriage.

Sicily informed me that there is a duplex next door to her that is being renovated, and will need a new tenant at the time of its completion.  Upon inquiring inside, I came to discover that the owning couple - who are also the renovators - are people I'm already acquainted with, thanks to a community-group we attended together once or thrice about a year ago.  They are lovely people, and I'm very excited about the prospect of renting from them.  They'd live downstairs, I'd live above.  There are wood floors, a fireplace, and LOTS of east- and west-facing windows.  A dream come true.  The precious lady and I spoke for a good while about coffee, intentionally living with less, stripping down your faith to find out what stands strong, and the necessity of reading books before seeing movies.  Oh! - and they have big dogs!  Two of them.  I would reside happily.  I also offered to assist in the rejuvenation process and in beautifying the place up.  They said yes.

What I delightfully discovered on the late morning stroll, just before taking a reminiscent swing.

The Aviation >>
Sweet gin, tart lemon, and maraschino liqueur, over scraped ice.

Red Prime Steak has a fantastic Happy Hour.  They're really a high-class establishment.  Top-notch appetizers, a tingly cocktail selection, and lovely conversation about business and the saving of lives.  Riveting crowd there, and a passionate barkeep.  His name is Scott.  He warningly, realistically, and encouragingly gave me pro bono counsel on how to get onto the bartending scene.  Experience + real knowledge trumps certification in the eyes of a GM, so it would seem.  I've got a lot of reading and experimenting to catch up on.  


cocktails, oh joy!

This evening finds me reading Milton Crawford's The Hungoevr Cookbook.  "I was left in no doubt about the severity of the hangover when a cat stamped into the room." - P.G. Wodehouse.  Cardamom Porridge with Spicy Apple Sauce.  How painfully lovely hangovers could be...

On the note of alcoholic beverages, I was informed of / invited to a cocktail festival in the Paris of the Plains.  Late August.  Booking my calendar.  Perhaps a train trek?  Perhaps.

Caffe breve in hand.  Bed calling to me.  Paradoxical nothingness.  I need to write.

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