Taste and Tastelessness

Vulgar is as vulgar does
When 2500 square feet isn’t enough

Sherwood Forest is a hidden enclave of elegant one-story ranch houses on sprawling lots with deep setbacks. Four bedroom, three bath, 1950’s Connecticut.  The kind of house Mr. Sheldrake took the 6:15 train home to in Billy Wilder’s The Apartment.  If you had the money to buy one, tear it down, and replace it with something twice as big, would you build this? Would you go full New Yerevan Brutalist? Would you pave over the front yard and add the tallest fence in the neighborhood?

The Sheldrake
The Sheldrake

Is it winter yet?

Inquiring minds wish to know
Inquiring minds wish to know
Autumn intimations in Sherwood Forest
Autumn intimations in Sherwood Forest

Rainfall may be 50% of normal for the second year running in Los Angeles, but today we got our first joyful, gloomy autumnal day in the Valley.  I actually wore pants.

Yay! Fall, leaves, fall!

Yellow now, ye sweetgums and Chinese elms.  Blush crimson and drop your veil.  Flutter and flail and land where you must. Find your savasana on the rooftops and leaflet the storm drains. If we can’t have raindrops, may we at least have you.

No more sipping pumpkin spice latte with a sweat damp forehead.

Christmas Eve in the Valley

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Giles awaits the tinkling of sleigh bells. Failing that, the scrabbling of the Christmas mouse beneath the tree.

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Mrs. UpintheValley spurns the season’s temptations.

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Counter-programming, Sherwood Forest.

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Full house at Sam Woo BBQ.

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Last wash at 12, Roscoe Lavanderia.  Feliz Navidad.