Bishop is the land of relentless sunshine...nah nah nah nah nah....

We had a brief flirtation with an overcast day. It was the day of Tom's service. I couldn't stop crying. He was loved by heaps, and I think he would have been a little embarrassed by the numbers that turned out to say goodbye. I have just gotten to the point that I can cycle or drive up his street without bawling. His wife Jackie and I sit on the front porch and have good chats. It's comforting. The boy and I take Tom's fat dogs for a walk when we can.

All the other days since have been relentlessly sunny. Maybe it's the angle of the sun in the sky, but are those super shiny god beams blinding our eyes?

It's cool enough in the evenings that Janet has been firing up the sauna regularly and we have been having a fire or two during the week.

Monkeyboy has taken to calling the moon "Mama" and pictures of cowboys on broncos "Dada". Awesome.

judy

 

Judydog

Our Judy is going to be living most of the week down in Olancha with my Dad. It's only until Wyatt can be taught to give her a bit of space. At 19 months, the boy has no clue that a growly dog showing all its teeth means "bugger off!" They play well together when there is a ball and a parent involved. All bets are off when he's got her cornered by some closed door. It's going to be a relief not to police them constantly and an adjustment as Judy has been my daytime companion for the last 8 years.

Tom

My very good friend Tom passed away yesterday. We met some six years ago because we walked our dogs along the same canal. He was old guard Bishop (in his 70s, white, native) and I was new guard Bishop (in my 30s, ethnic, transplant), and we got on like a house on fire. We must have been quite a sight towards the end, buddies chatting about everything, he in his electric buggy and me pushing Wyatt alongside in the stroller.

Tom was a very understated man, but he taught me about honesty, fairness, and kindness. He had a wonderful gentle sense of humor. It didn't hurt that he had twinkly twinkly blue eyes.

When Tom was diagnosed with ALS, I told him that the boy and I would be his friends through thick and thin. I think we were. He graced us both with his humor and care until the end.

Wyatt won't remember all the times that Tom indulged Wyatt by letting him play with the hospital bed controls or by letting him terrorize Didi and Holly, the two family dogs, but I will.

I will miss him terribly.

Climb Every Dinette

nb: the Christmas themed PJs in late Summer in a size too big. Mama is well known for her thrifty ways. These were marked down over 70 percent. Hey, it'll mean the difference between going on holiday someplace nice and "fereign" and staying at home.

Climb Every Mountain

Took the boy to gymnastics class for the first time today. I know, this is a prelude to soccermomdome. But shoot, the baby doesn't really have any friends his own age, and he does have a wealth of energy to burn.

Wyatt dug the trampolines, the little girls, the monkey stamp he got on his hand at the end of the session, and the showing off for his Gung Gung (grandpa).

Living with the boy is exactly like living with a monkey.

In other news, I have the cholesterol levels of a very old very fat man. I keep trying to convince myself that it's not my fondness for meat and cheese and meatpies (I mean, I only get to eat THOSE a few times a year). I will shortly be going on 10 mg daily doses of Lipitor for the rest of my life.

I don't have a hernia in my groin, just really bad hips.

It is the First Monday in October

...which means the Supreme Court convenes for a new term. I hope that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are not rarin' to have a go at Roe v. Wade.

It snowed in the Sierras last night. The days are still gorgeous down here in the Valley. Our highs are in the high 70s, and the views are clear, clean. Been playing Humphreys and Keen's "The Overflow" pretty much once a day. There's a track called "The End of Golden Weather." It's not the case here, yet. (Having said that, Karen, Matt, and I stacked two cords of firewood (almond, olive, and oak) last Thursday night.)

I'm particularly addicted to the CD, especially the track "12,000 Miles" and its rocking secret bit at the end. I hang on to certain phrases that allude to falling in love, long absences, sea faring, nihilistic romeos, devastating whores - all that. You can have a listen at CDBaby.

The baby is either having or not having an earache. Since he seems particularly easy going and monkeylike otherwise, Matt and I have decided not to drag him to the Nurse's Office.

Wellington's Phoenix Foundation are playing a date in Los Angeles around the end of the month. Janet and I had such a good time at their first shows that I think we'll get a bigger crowd to come. My Dad has even offered to babysit the boy if my Mom can't. Three cheers. TPF are such a hardworking, lovely, lovely band that it is well worth the five hour drive to see them play.