Oh, and this guy, too
We weren't alone admiring the sunrise, though I'm pretty sure this guy was warm and toasty in his bunk at the time.
December 7, 2011
January 12, 2009
A shore thing
If I could find the wonderful "Birds of Los Angeles" book I bought last month at one of my favorite book stores, I'd be able to tell you the name of these stilt-legged birds who spend each winter here in Paradise Cove.
All day long they skitter across the wet sand, probing with their long, long beaks, eating and running and eating and running and, when something interferes, flying and scolding in their shrill, scraped voices because they've lost, for a moment, the rhythm of the lapping waves.
January 5, 2009
Monday morning
Cold this morning and very still after a restless, windy night. That's the pier, of course, and some gulls milling about. And though the holidays already seem like a lifetime ago, it's actually the 12th day of Christmas, which makes this little snippet fair game.
It's Gary Owens, gamely doing a cold reading of a holiday commercial and slowly, completely, losing it. (If that doesn't work, try this link and scroll to the last item.) Steve Padilla, my editor and cherished colleague on LA Now (hello everyone -- I miss you!) says it's a holiday tradition at his house to play it.
Years later when Steve's wife, a reporter for the Wall Street Journal, was interviewing Owens, she brought up this clip. She barely got her question out before Owens cracked up all over again. Steve shared this with me so now, in the spirit of the last day of Christmas, I'm sharing it with you.
January 1, 2009
Happy New Year!
Another misty morning, another walk in the hills. But the higher the sun rose, the faster the fog moved. Moments after leaving the bright light of this meadow, all was swathed in cool and silky gray.
December 31, 2008
A quake, some fog, and year's end
First came that 3 a.m. jolt, short and sharp, an earthquake somewhere off the Malibu coast. The trailer shook, the china rattled, but the household slept on. This morning, fog, rolling in off the Pacific in thick, wet sheets. Longing for sun, we drove up the canyon and caught an hour or so of warmth and golden light.
Oh, and remember my post last week about the vanishing sands of Broad Beach? The Times has a story today that says it's all a result of global warming. I still think the bulldozers destroyed the structure of the beach when, several years back, homeowners built an enormous -- and illegal -- berm to keep the public at bay. The county made them remove the berm and the sand went back but the angle was wrong, the pitch was off, the natural order of things forever altered. But that's just what I think.
Happy New Year's Eve to all of you. Am hoping to shoot the first sunrise of 2009 tomorrow, if it's not (and I'm not) too foggy.
December 29, 2008
Green
Just a bit of greenery that popped up on the beach path during the most recent rains. And here's a little post about Robert Graham, whose death last week took so many people by surprise.
December 28, 2008
Farmer girl
I want to move to the country. And talk to the animals. And make new friends. (And yes, I have a new fave photostream on Flickr.)
December 27, 2008
Signs of Saturday: Wishful thinking
A quick, crummy and fuzzy (trifecta!) cell shot of a sign on the cash register at the Malibu Kitchen in the Cross Creek Shopping Center, prime hunting ground for the pap rats.
December 26, 2008
Not-so-Broad Beach
Remember the wide and gracious sweep of Broad Beach, a strip of sand in northern Malibu lined with mega-mansion$? For years there's been a simmering feud between homeowners and beach goers over where the public/private dividing line actually is.
A few years back, some Broad Beach homeowners hired bulldozers to build up the dunes in front of the row of houses. Illegal. The county promptly ordered them to hire bulldozers to put the sand back where it had been. The place kind of looked the same, but not quite.
Now, (and who knows whether the whole bulldozer fiasco had anything to do with it, but my cousin, who has lived on Broad Beach since the 1970s, says she's never seen anything like this) now, the tides are sweeping all the way up to people's yards, up to their houses, even on the broadest sweep of the formerly broad beach.
December 23, 2008
All in a row
The sight of the little dog in her raincoat has been so amusing, I never really noticed that it comes with extras, like these tiny plastic ducks that embellish the pleat that lets the coat fit snugly around her sturdy butt.
December 21, 2008
Solstice sunset
Here's the solstice sunset on Broad Beach. Tomorrow, a minute more of daylight than we had today.
December 19, 2008
Channel change
Remember the pond that forms here each spring?
Well, each winter the rains rush down the creek bed and carve a channel instead.
December 18, 2008
The grand-mère coat
Just 44 degrees this morning here in Malibu, which means the group of us who wake and walk at dawn dwindles. It also means that, even though it's fur, which I normally never wear, my grandmother's coat comes out of storage.
It's a puzzler, this coat, a mid-century mink, sedate save for the zig-zag zoom-zoom lining. My grandmother's coat, which sometimes still smells of her perfume. She was classy, beautiful and tall, one of those Parisiennes who knew how to knot a scarf just so, who, though she lived nearby for decades, never visited the Eiffel Tower.
I wonder what she'd think of her coat now, worn with jeans and rain boots to walk the dogs, a tennis ball in the pockets that once held theater tickets or opera glasses or a monogrammed hankie. I'd like to think it would be "très bien," but "sacre bleu!" is closer to the truth. She'd smile while saying it, though, pull you in for a quick kiss, for a breath of that sweet perfume.
December 17, 2008
Is it windy where you are?
It's wild here right now, the wind howling around the house, the clouds crowding the horizon. It's a high wind, a steady wind, not too bad at ground level but up in the trees, way up in the tossing treetops, it looks like waves breaking.
This photo is from yesterday when a cloud snaked out over the Pacific and aimed a precision rain storm at a tanker headed home. You can't really see the ship, not even in the photo below, an alleged closeup, because I can't seem to get into the habit of carrying an actual camera with me. I rely on the tiny -- but perfectly fine -- but tiny point-and-shoot that fits in my pocket and has a limited zoom. Still, you can kind of get the picture.
December 16, 2008
Window shopping
It's a lean holiday season for so many who lost their jobs this year. Makes me grateful that my annual gift to friends and family of a blooming pot of narcissus is still affordable, still beautiful. A plus -- getting to watch as the plantings scattered all through the house grow a little bit each day.
December 15, 2008
A bright spot
I could say this photo's all soft and out of focus because it's too dark and rainy today to shoot without a flash. Or I could just admit the sight of the little dog, swaddled like a sausage, makes the camera shake as I laugh out loud.
Here she is, swearing like a sailor happy to be dry in her shiny, yellow raincoat. (And here's her inner monologue.)
December 12, 2008
Friday light
Early, too early to be out without a tripod but there I am, pressed against the fence, arms braced, breath held, to catch the earliest light, the blues of sky and sea and sunrise, dissolving on the here-comes-the-rain horizon.
December 11, 2008
A touch of the grape
Remember this big house, the hills in all directions stripped bare for a vineyard?
Now it's an even bigger house, and the vineyard reaches further:
December 9, 2008
She's all that
As a member of the LA Times Layoff Class of '08, now waiting to hear more about how the Tribune Co.'s recent Chapter 11 filing affects us, I'm in need of silliness. Enter the little dog.
More than a few of you have written to say Maisie the Teacup Lab deserves a blog of her own and I agree. Would that she had thumbs to hold a camera and guide a mouse and hitchhike around Malibu in search of fresh coyote poop locations.
What the freakishly small black dog does have, however is a really pink, really big, remarkably flexible tongue. Does iPhone have an app for that?
December 8, 2008
December light
No use trying to figure out the light this time of year, it's such a complicated mix. There's the tilt of the earth, the sweep of storms, the retreating sun, the coming solstice.
Here's the beach this morning, looking north soon after sunrise, the sea so smooth, the winter grays rimmed in palest rose.
December 3, 2008
Detour
Driving home from a late-ish dinner in Venice last night when suddenly, brake lights. PCH, that box canyon of roadways, was closed between Sunset and Topanga and we were stuck.
Police ordered northbound cars up Sunset to the 405, to the 101, to Topanga and then back down again to PCH, an hour's detour to go half a mile. I headed up Sunset and, thinking to find a quiet place to check the Thomas Guide, followed a car with flashing tail lights as it veered left into a tiny side street.
As the rest of the PCH traffic roared on up the hill, we wound down and around a dark, twisty road in the dark, foggy night. Suddenly, a fortress of a guard gate with a sign demanding I.D. loomed up, but a man with a flashlight waved us through. We drove.
The road narrowed and dropped and at each fork and curve, another flashlight waved us on. We crept through the shadowed grounds of the Getty Villa, magically and mysteriously open for our tiny caravan. How did they know? Why didn't the police know?
The last flashlight waved us through the Villa's front gates and there we were, just moments later, back on PCH, the only northbound car for the rest of the drive home.
Photo: Flickr / via Creative Commons
December 2, 2008
When the fog rolls in
We've been fogged in for a few days now, socked in, hemmed in, pressed against this cloudy coast. Usually, like a parlor trick, you can drive into the hills and emerge in sunlight. Yesterday, though, when I gave it a go, the fog was faster. Here's the little glimpse I got before the fog rolled right over me, rolled past me and obscured everything. No little cat feet, I'm afraid, just a heavy, hefty layer of wet and drippy gray.
December 1, 2008
Malibu flyboys get grounded in Bluffs Park
Perhaps you remember this photo of parasailers making a landing, once a common sight in Bluffs Park?
Well, it eventually led to this -- a crash landing and a quarter-acre fire near the park last summer.
Which has inevitably led to this:
The sign appeared just a few days ago in Bluffs Park. (More about signs in the park tomorrow.)
November 28, 2008
Treeland
Here it is, the holiday season, the four-week stretch by which, beyond all reason, our retail economy measures its success. Can someone please explain the logic? It's also the time of year my, well, eclectic religious background gets a workout. I was born in Paris and baptized Catholic, moved to the U.S. where my grandfather, an unwavering Tsarist to his dying day, took me to his Russian Orthodox church. Then, via a parent's re-marriage, came a decade of Judaism. In college, via a cute boyfriend, came Buddhism. Turns out, God is everywhere.
So each December we have Hanukkah and two different Christmases (Russian Orthodoxy follows the Julian calendar) and -- my personal favorite and, if you think about it, the true new year -- the winter solstice. We also get a living Christmas tree, a Monterey pine if at all possible, since it's a California native and loves the coast.
For a few years Monterey pines, beset by killer beetles, vanished from our local nurseries. They're back now (these are at Treeland in Calabasas, where I've bought my solstice Christmas tree for the last 15 years) as strong and green and fragrant as ever.
November 27, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
It doesn't rain often here in Malibu, but it's always an event. Storms edge in, a thin scrim of light, bright clouds that slowly turn to steely gray. The rain starts, a few dusty drops, a shower or two, a rainbow or two, and then the deluge. The morning after, the final coda, a horizon rimmed in layered, textured, churning white.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. Thank you for the lovely cards and emails -- I'm grateful for each and every one of them.
November 26, 2008
Rain
The light today has been amazing -- the gray and gloom of rain on the way, the filtered glow of sudden sunlight, a chunk of rainbow rising from a ridge. Beneath the branches of a pepper tree, so thick the rain can't reach, a hummingbird hunts spiders. The cats, entranced, watch from a window.
November 25, 2008
You call that rain?
After days of predictions of rain by local newscasters who could scarcely disguise their hunger for the resulting mudslides in the fire zones, all we got was this little cloud bank.
November 24, 2008
Still kicking
Every few weeks the pink Corvette shows up at Ralphs, which means a top-heavy woman in a really short skirt is pointing at items on the grocery store shelves while a slightly freaked out clerk fills her cart and tries not to look down her blouse.
November 21, 2008
Kelp
It was soon after we moved here that, while kayaking one morning, I came across a set of odd buoys randomly spaced throughout the Cove. Scientific experiment, a label said, and I just assumed it had something to do with fish.
What it was, though, was the seeding of kelp beds, replacing the underwater forest that once grew throughout the Santa Monica Bay. Now, all these years later, the buoys are gone but the kelp beds remain. Their health and breadth fluctuates depending on water temps, urchin populations, and pollution levels. During El Nino, they all but vanish. In colder years, they come back strong.
See that flat spot of water in the photo of today's daybreak? That's a kelp bed, keeping the water still, sheltering an ecosystem of fish and other creatures. You'll see seals there, dolphins making their rounds, pelicans diving and eating and just floating about.
Kayak out to the west and an enormous bed rises like magic from the ocean floor. Paddle to the middle and the floating fronds catch your little boat, hold you still, hold the water so still it's clear all the way to the bottom. You watch sea rays and see sea stars and catch the occasional golden glitter of a garibaldi, and you're held the whole time by that kelp bed, the tide slowly moving, the kayak gently rocking.
November 19, 2008
Tennis, anyone?
Anyone can use the tennis court here in the Cove, whether you can play an actual game or merely enjoy raising your blood pressure while slamming little green balls into a net. All you have to do is sign for the key.
The group of tennis regulars who play a few times a week always remember to lock up when they're done. Casual players, kids and visitors pretty much never do lock the court, and that's Jake and Maisie's favorite time. They see the open gate and dash right in.
There's something about the gritty clay surface that they love. The ball, when thrown, is utterly predicable. Unlike on the beach road, where it's easy to spin out on a hard curve, their feet have perfect purchase. The games are quick and hard and the rules are fast and loose. And the score? Always the same -- love, love.
November 15, 2008
Saturday's smokey sunrise
The worst fire season ever, or so it seems. Here's today's sunrise, looking apocalyptic.
November 14, 2008
Here come the winds
After a calm night and peaceful morning, the winds are here. The temperature just spiked 10 degrees and every vertical thing is in motion, trees swaying, brush rippling, grasses laid flat. The dogs are in the shade, panting. The cats are in the shade, also panting. And here's a spot near the barn which, if you were teaching someone English, would be the perfect place to explain the concept of "dry as tinder".
November 13, 2008
Glad about glads
Check it out -- these glads, grown, Trader Joe's assures me, in California, spent three hot hours in the car when I bought them on Saturday, got knocked over once by the rambunctious dogs, ran out of water once because really, who knew flowers could be so thirsty, and still they're glowing bright and opening new blooms.
November 12, 2008
Wednesday dawn
I'm not a fan of Daylight Savings Time, which steals a morning hour from us each spring, then dumps us into darkness every autumn. We don't get to know that the summer sunrise comes at 4:45 a.m. We don't get to feel just how full and quick the day actually is. And while that extra hour of light at night is nice, the abrupt end, the rough return to real time with its endless adjustment takes a toll.
Anyway, here's today's dawn, in actual time, 6:17 a.m.. The sun broke the horizon five minutes later.
November 10, 2008
Paperwork
Two weeks ago today I joined the vast (and ever-growing) legions of Americans who have been laid off. It started with a phone call while I was in the midst of writing my first blog post of the day for LA Now. So instead of "Good morning", I wrote "Goodbye". Being a Web 2.0 kinda gal, I also Tweeted and updated on Facebook.
Just 24 hours later, the separation packet landed on my front steps. It's the most efficient thing the Tribune Co. does, this jettisoning of journalists. And now, as you can see from the photo, I'm wrestling with paperwork. Trying (no luck yet) to decipher the language in the packet which, in places, somewhat approximates English. Trying (no luck yet) to get a call back from HR. It's hard and disheartening but that's just the way it is.
I want to clear up a few things: I didn't lose my job because I linked to Tell Zell or LAO or other items critical of Sam Zell, or because of my Zell Hell bumper sticker. And I didn't lost my job because I linked out to other blogs and newspapers on LA Now. That was always part of the vision, part of the plan. I know LA Now isn't linking as much right now, but when they regroup, absorb this latest blow to the workforce (75 people left the building for good, after all, added to the 150 in July) I bet they'll start linking again.
I'm not angry and I'm not bitter and I'll never trash the LA Times. I know too well how hard things are for the journalists who are left behind. They're among the smartest and most dedicated people I've ever worked with, and they never asked for a vulgar vulture to buy their newspaper and bleed it dry.
November 8, 2008
Sunset in the park
I was picking the dogs up from the vet, saw this huge backhoe about to start work on the much-discussed and possibly mythic Heritage Park project, so I got a (crummy) snapshot. 
And while I was at it, thought this sunset deserved a (crummy) photo as well.
November 7, 2008
Making tracks
No one knows (well, someone does know) just who it is driving down to the beach and onto the sand in their truck or jeep or whatever for the last few nights.
What we do know is they've torn up the steep and fragile incline everyone uses to reach the water, making it harder for the kids and moms and older people here in the Cove.
November 5, 2008
First things first
I told Maisie, the little black dog, that Americans just elected their first black president.
She wants to know, does he have a tennis ball?
November 4, 2008
Have you voted yet?
Can you believe how important and thrilling and scary and thrilling and, well, thrilling today feels? I'm fresh out of words (thus all the "thrilling" trilling) so, on the jump you'll find a little series of snapshots of this morning's vote.
November 3, 2008
Crossings
Footprints in the sand. Sherlock Holmes could have deciphered the story.
November 2, 2008
Post-rain coast
Sunday morning in the Cove, as calm and quiet as it looks.
November 1, 2008
Sky before rain
October 31, 2008
Which way did they go?
Nothing I did or said could persuade Jake or Maisie to look into the camera.
October 30, 2008
A different kind of goodbye
We all knew it was coming, of course, the house that's going to turn this sweet spot high in the hills into another Malibu mansion. Turns out that doesn't make the start of construction any easier to take.
October 28, 2008
Hawks fly overhead
Got knocked offline last night and into today (ironic, no?) so my LAT layoff post hung out there longer than I wished. A visit to Brian at Malibu Computers (merci!) solved it and now I'm back.
Here's a shot of a pair of hawks who made another in a string of visits to my part of the Cove this morning, flying so low over my house I could look into their eyes, feel the hairs on my arms prickle at the sound of those merciless, keening screams.
October 26, 2008
Sunday sunrise
Here's today's sunrise, just because.
October 24, 2008
John Barrymore would have applauded
This is just a cell phone shot so bear with me, but this dog left behind while his owner went shopping at Ralphs, the woebegone face, those eyes, those frowny furrows, all telegraphing a level of longing that would have Clint Eastwood asking "Angelina who?", he just had to be shared.
October 23, 2008
HOT
I was just watching the fire news on a local station and the perky reporter said "It's going to be 98 degrees today -- just a week before Halloween. Can you imagine?" Uh, yes, as a matter of fact. Here in L.A., we call that autumn.
Anyway, here's the sunrise today. I zoomed in to get the hot shot. From further away, it looks just a bit more bearable. And here's the sunrise reflected in beach-front windows.
October 21, 2008
I miss real card catalogs
We're in the County's library system here in Malibu, and ever since they did away with card catalogs a few years ago, I've been, well, cranky. I miss everything about them -- the golden wood, the long, small drawers, the musty scent, the thick paper of each entry, some crisp and new, some foxed and fuzzy-edged from use.
We've got a computer system now, of course, as do so many libraries these days. Half the time it's really, really slow. Sometimes it's down completely. Often enough it's inaccurate and you have to do your search several different times and a few different ways to get a real answer. And now, our library, this most democratic of places, has added a new stumbling block to the card catalog search. Where once anyone could log on and look for a book, now you have enter your library card number. Just to search, just to look, you need to have a library card.
To be fair, the librarians say that if you don't have a card they'll do the search for you. But where's the freedom to browse, the freedom to look around without asking permission, asking for help, and without leaving an electronic trail? As I said, undemocratic and, in my humble (and cranky) opinion, wrong.
October 19, 2008
Evinrude 2.0
Evinrude, who was bored yesterday, went looking for rodents. Found spiderwebs. Was forced to sit for a portrait before we wiped his face clean. There was laughing.
October 17, 2008
Why is the kitchen sink full of flowers?
I hit the Farmer's Market in Santa Monica every Saturday, partly because I'm headed to McCabes and Vidiots anyway, and partly because of the flowers. Get there late enough and one of the vendors cuts his prices almost in half.
You take your chances, of course, that the great colors and varieties are sold out, but even when it's down to daisies, dahlias and hybrid roses, you can fill every vase in the house. This last time, the guy told me submerging the stems for an hour or two makes the blooms last longer.
Did it work? Not really. But these colors in that big sink sure did look nice, so I shot a bunch of photos.
October 15, 2008
Big pink
I love this tree, big and pink, just standing there. It's in an empty spot that has been the site of several art installations -- a pair of life-size deer, I believe, and a gorgeous horse caught in mid-gallop, circling around a crouching figure of early man.
I think it's perfect just the way it is, wish it could stay that way, but in a city where downtown land is measured in increments, by dollars per retail foot, I suspect Big Pink's days are numbered.
October 10, 2008
Because it's been a while...
Here's today's sunrise.
What you can't see are two exasperated black dogs sitting a few feet away, sighing LOUDLY as they wait for me to get the shot.
October 8, 2008
When they were trailers
Of the 200-plus trailers here in Paradise Cove, just a few remain untouched. In the lower section of the park, actual travel trailers once towed behind station wagons were parked and, over time, turned into tiny cottages. On the upper level, original trailers with names like "Meteor" and "Golden Mansion" were slowly transformed. First came aluminum siding, then new windows and doors. Additions were built, newer and bigger trailers were hauled onto the sites and, most recently, full-on houses were constructed on top of each old trailer's chassis.
Here's one of the last untouched trailers in the Cove. There's the ribbed metal exterior, still the original green, the carpeted stairs, the canted car port, the aluminum windows, the covered porch.
An elderly couple used to live here. You'd see them in the morning, walking arm in arm. You could see them in the house in the evenings, the curtains open, the lights on. Her harp stood in the center of the room. His books filled the shelves that lined the walls. They're gone now and, inevitably, the trailer will change.
I'm glad I got this shot of it though, a tiny piece of Cove lore that can still live on.
October 7, 2008
Change of season
In the morning, before there's even much light, there's color. A kind of low, slow rose that comes humming down the beach, turns the sand a little pink, bounces off the bluff. Out at sea, a horizon packed with clouds, slate gray, reflecting water. No traffic, unless you count the gulls, their wing beats an alto thud in the still, chill air.
October 6, 2008
The Pie Festival -- concluded
First, I've got a post up on Native Intelligence.
Now, the Malibu Pie Festival of 2008. Nice crowd:
Lots and lots of offerings in the silent auction:
And my pie, despite scorching a bit in my 1950s O'Keefe & Merritt oven, got a third-place ribbon. Then, at six bucks a slice, it sold out! (Full disclosure -- I bought two of those slices.)
October 3, 2008
Malibu Pie Festival tomorrow!
Pies to judge, pies to eat, minor celebs to oogle (yes, I know the word is actually 'ogle') and a silent auction -- it's our annual autumnal rite, the Malibu Pie Festival.
I'm entering, as usual, an apple pie. (Full disclosure: blue ribbon in '06, 3rd place in '07). As usual, I bought the fruit at See Canyon at the Santa Monica farmer's market. They've got varieties of apples I've never heard of, apples so fragrant, apples so oddly shaped, apples with flavors so rich and complex that supermarket apples will never be anything more than fourth-rate.
The church that throws this shindig each year doesn't host a pie contest web site, so here's the info from the LA Times. I'll be the one hovering anxiously around the judging table, trying to read lips.
October 2, 2008
Malibu's tool theft epidemic
A friend of mine, who inspects houses as they're being built, has been hearing from contractors on the sites she visits that thieves are breaking into locked sheds and cleaning them out, making off with tens of thousands of dollars worth of hand tools and power tools and construction materials.
Some contractors have hired guards, others are using dogs. Here's an inspired solution I came across on one of my walks -- the tempting tool chest held safely out of reach.
September 28, 2008
How long since I've driven the Plymouth?
This long.
September 23, 2008
Politics, or Patsy?
As a journalist there's so much I can't write about on this blog, like, well, to even mention it would be improper, so instead of politics, here's another photo of another cat.
It's Patsy, the one who's not radioactive but who does have a real sense of style and often sits on the remains of my neighbor's rustic fence, her dark, silky fur set off nicely by the bright, spiky cactus.
September 19, 2008
I'm being followed by a radioactive cat
Evinrude is home, roaming the house with the rapidly-decaying remains of a 2.5 microcuries dose of I-131 which, in terms of radiation, puts him somewhere between a chest X-ray and a toaster oven. It's a toss-up which sounds louder right now, Rudy's purr or the Geiger counter the vet used to scan him before she sent him home.
So there he sits, crankily ensconced in a corner of the deck I barricaded with rabbit fence. He's got food and water, lots of spots to sit, a house plant, a litter box, and a window ledge from which he can watch his sworn enemy, the cat next door, give him the finger.
The vet said not to let Rudy sleep in the bed. In fact, he has to stay at least three feet away from everyone except for "brief and necessary periods of contact" until Wednesday, when the half-life of the isotope that's saving his life has run down. Then Rudy's free to roam the house and claw the couch and say mean things about me on Oprah during his book tour.
September 17, 2008
Bad dogs wanted
So I was at the vet picking up radioactive Evinrude -- oh yes, we'll have more on that later -- when I saw this notice taped to the front counter. Ill-behaved, bad-mannered, hump-your-leg-at-a-dinner-party dogs wanted.
Who knew that when I trained Jake and Maisie to sit and stay and pay their Visa bills on time, I was keeping them from reality TV stardom?
September 15, 2008
And life goes on
I keep thinking about David Foster Wallace, the brilliant writer who died this weekend -- news reports say he hung himself -- and I wind up thinking about his wife, who found him. I loved his work, especially his journalism, which was among the best I've ever read, and I want to be among the scores of writers who, moved by him, are moved to write about him. But all I can think about right now is what he did to his wife.
September 11, 2008
Decor, but not decorous
They told me. They told me and I didn't believe them but I went and saw and photographed and as you can tell, they were right.
The Senate chamber in the state Capitol in Sacramento, swagged in red velvet, painted in shades of pink and cream, carpeted in crimson, the Senate chamber does, indeed, look like a bordello.
September 7, 2008
Shark swims free again
Remember the shark captured off the SoCal coast late last month and moved to the Monterey Bay Aquarium's exhibit? She ate only once in her 11-days on display so, on Sunday afternoon, scientists let her go free. She's wearing a tracking tag that, even as we speak, is collecting data about where she's swimming and how deep she's going and how far. I wrote it up for my LAT blog and here's the link.
Meanwhile, I'm headed to Sacramento for a few days and, time willing, will post from there. If not, see you back here on Thursday, with even more pix of tiny labradors, foggy sunrises and, of course, more cranky rants about rampant development.
Photo: Courtesy of Monterey Bay Aquarium / All rights reserved
September 5, 2008
Misty mornings in Malibu
Here's how the end of summer is playing out in Paradise Cove -- low-lying, slow-moving clouds that shroud the horizon, match this sailboat color for color until only its outline seems solid and real.
September 3, 2008
Going nuclear
Evinrude was named for his purr, outsized for his eight-pound (yes, he's tiny) frame. His facial expression soon earned him the nickname, Crabbyrude. And though he's always been a bit, well, imperious, lately he's been downright cranky. When he suddenly started eating five (no joke) cans of cat food a day and stayed ravenous, I googled the symptoms for hyperthyroidism. Bingo, Evinrude has them.
It's in the early stages so it took two blood tests to figure it out, but Evinrude's thyroid has gone bonkers. And now he's going to have a somewhat alarming treatment -- an injection of I-131, which is an isotope of iodine.
He'll be radioactive (Rudioactive?) for four days. His poop and urine will be radioactive for 12 days after that. And then, when he comes home, he'll have to help pay for this crazy treatment. A newspaper route, or maybe sell porn on his My Space page.
September 2, 2008
We made it!
Summer is unofficially over. In theory, the beach-seeking, sun-loving, near-naked hordes, half of them driving as though the rules of physics have been suspended here in Malibu, have returned home. But here's what I can't get over. Remember this wonderful, kitschy sign (above) for the annual Chili Cookoff, with wavy flames and a thicket of exclamation points? It's been replaced with the somewhat bland and static one below. How is that an improvement?
August 25, 2008
110 percent
Maisie, after playing ball. She always does her very best.
Edging toward autumn
Even if you couldn't feel it, in the angle of the light, the shape of the shadows, the quick dusk, you'd know it by the sunrise, the point of entry moving ever southward, away from the mountains to its winter home at sea.
August 20, 2008
Another monster(ous) mansion
Sometimes I think I need to photograph every last bit of untouched land here in Malibu because the number of people willing and eager to blast and bulldoze and tear it apart to build enormous homes right next door to enormous homes that are already for sale, well, that list seems endless.
This used to be a wooded curve in the road, a small arroyo leading to a series of rounded hills. It's gutted now, a driveway going in, walls going up, a house coming soon. A roadrunner used to live there, which is a small thing, I know, but where will it go now? How long before it can't find a place to nest or enough room to hunt? How long before the roadrunners just disappear?
August 17, 2008
Thicket
Just a quick shot of the bridge over the creek, then a glimpse of a little path that leads from the houses above to the beach below.
August 12, 2008
Hot dogs *
Another in a string of cool and cloudy mornings today, socked in by the same marine layer that rolled in last night and kept us from seeing a single shooting star (OK, meteorite meteor, but isn't "shooting star" just so much more evocative?) during the Perseid shower.
So here's a shot of Jake and Maisie on a hot and sunny Sunday. We walked up a road that led to a trail that led to a hilltop, all dry grasses hissing in the breeze and blazing blue Pacific as far as the eye can see. We showed the dogs where to find some new places to run. They showed us where to find some old coyote poop.
* I'm told that a meteorite is the meteor that falls to earth. Shooting stars are meteors. Meteorites are the stuff of alarmist news reports, scifi novels and, in certain hands, conspiracy theory.
August 9, 2008
Happy Anniversary x 2!
It's August 10th and, believe it or not, this little blog turns two today. It's as lovely a way to mark the day as I can imagine. It's warm here today, sweet sun, clear sky, restless ocean, but not many people. Quieter, in fact, than it's been all summer.
Things are winding down here in Malibu, people turning their minds back to school and work. Labor Day, just weeks away, is like a faucet shutting off. Our town goes back to what passes for normal around here, ironic, considering September and even October bring some of the warmest weather of the year.
And fires, though let's not think about that right now. Right now, here's the start of the very first post on this blog two years ago, a time so different it feels like it happened to a different person altogether. Which, when I think about it, it did.
Everyone wants a piece of Malibu, including me. My buying power has proven modest – an aging mobile home on a bluff above the beach. We rent the land. The house sits on metal tripods that shimmy in the slightest earthquake, let the occasional raccoon or opossum rest in the cool darkness. Their smell moves through the air vents, a pungent musk that can’t be anything but wild animal.When the sun goes down, coyotes light up the canyon with yips and howls, bloodthirsty arias that alter your dreams. The cats in the house wake up then, drift to an open window to watch and listen long into the night. At dawn, a membrane of mist...
The rest is here. Thank you for reading, for your lovely emails, for thinking a little blog about this spot by the sea is worth your time. Happy anniversary!
Veronique
August 7, 2008
What lies beneath
Two years ago, someone tied this rowboat to the bluff and walked away. Maybe they sold their house in the great Cove real estate boom of '07, maybe they just forgot they own a boat at all. Whatever the case, the rowboat is still there, at the end of that length of white rope that vanishes deep, deep into the sand.
I used to be the only one who knew that. Now you know, too.
August 5, 2008
Can you spell "bougainvillea"
I can't, at least not the first (or second or even fourth) time around. In fact, I'm in such plentiful company with the not-spelling-it-right that I had to deliberately spell it wrong a few times before Google finally delivered the correct letters in the correct order. I think.
So, long story long, here's the bougainvillea growing outside my door, a pink so bright that it seeps inside and tints the kitchen walls.
August 4, 2008
Mixed message
Cloudy and cool or warm and sunny? Hints of each in this morning's sunrise.
July 28, 2008
Beach parking
July 24, 2008
Multi-tasking
Did I ever show you this photo of Maisie on Take Your Dog to Work Day?
July 22, 2008
Succulent light
My friend, Diana, is the one who first put a digital camera into my hands. Literally. She'd been after me for a while to switch from film to digital and I was willing, eager, really, right up until I got to the store and quickly vanished beneath waves of words like macro and megapixels and digital doom zoom.
So Diana took pity, asked for a budget and my credit card number, then went online and bought my first digital camera for me. A lovely little Olympus which fit into the palm of my hand and, once I translated the mangled English of the manual, rarely left my side. It finally died and I boldly bought a new camera all by myself.
Life was good. But then Diana started telling me about the joys of the digital SLR, how when you press the shutter, the camera takes the photo at that very instant, so the shot of the dog catching the ball is actually of the dog catching the ball, and not a photo of the dog's ass flying by a second after the dog caught the ball. Imagine.
And then Diana upgraded to a Canon 5D and I became the delighted and besotted owner of her 10D with a 28-135 mm zoom (see how I can talk the lingo) and life was very, very good. Which is all a very long digression (sorry) on the way to telling you that last time Diana was here, we went for a walk with my 10D and she saw this succulent with the sunlight turning it all sorts of soft and juicy colors and she dropped down on the dirt and click-click, just like that, got this lovely shot.
July 21, 2008
How have we lived without The Furminator?
Here's Jake relaxing in bed (sorry, mom) this morning after another short yet productive session with the Furminator, the best dog grooming tool ever invented, wondering whether I'm planning to knit him a little brother.
July 18, 2008
Rudy reads needs kneads a book
I'm reading a popular novel, one of the Boleyn series by Philippa Gregory, a bit of history and a lot of conjecture spiked with jousts and feasts and heaving bosoms. At least I'm trying to read it. Every time I pick it up, there's Evinrude, the Crabby One, yowling.
You'd think the book was dipped in crack catnip. He sits in my lap as I turn the pages and breathes deep, eyes glazed over, the shredded corner of a business card from Promises Malibu caught in his teeth.
July 17, 2008
Ducklings get a dunking
Why are these ducklings running? A dog, perhaps? A hawk? The semi-annual shoe sale at Nordstrom?
No, it's a lesson they just learned about waves, about how gliding up and down can be fun and freeing and, well, fun, right until that wave actually breaks and you and your siblings go under, vanish from sight for long, long seconds, then bob to the surface, one by one, like tiny feathered corks, looking as shocked as a bird with a bill can manage.
I think I heard a squeaky chorus of "Holy shit!" come from the little ducklings as they swam frantically from the next wave, stumbled to the blessed shore, then waddled as fast as their plump and water-proof butts would allow, to drop gratefully - if not gracefully - into the pond, where they quickly revised their opinions about mamma duck's warnings about rogue waves and big dogs and friendly strangers, and getting another Metallica tattoo.
July 15, 2008
Sun. And sad. But sun.
Yesterday I was too sad to blog. Today I'm too sad to sleep. So, the sunrise. It was slow, lovely, silent save for a flight of pelicans, a baby seal splashing in the shallows.
Yesterday the layoffs of 150 colleagues in the newsroom of the LA Times plus 100 people elsewhere at the paper began. The goodbyes start in earnest today. I've lived through layoffs at other newspapers and it's startling, shocking, really, how the energy in the building is exactly, precisely, identifiably the same. What was different here is how often this has already happened at the Times, and how recently. Just last January scores of remarkable journalists left the building for good, yet here we go again.
The egregious part is that the LA Times makes money, just not enough to satisfy the new owner and the new owner's debt. That's what this new round of blood-letting is about, paying off the $8.2 billion borrowed to buy Tribune Co. Does writing that put me in danger? Who knows, but not writing it almost certainly does.
July 9, 2008
Brrr...
Here's the beach this morning, just 62 foggy degrees as I got the shot. My neighbor, Cal, waterman extraordinaire (and merciless at Boggle, at which he cheerfully kicks my ass on a weekly basis) says it's a direct result of the heat wave raging just a few miles over the mountains.
July 8, 2008
MTV party house on July 4th ** UPDATED
Yep, they're illegal in Malibu, but MTV set up a party house next door to us in the Cove.
**Malibu's own Hans Laetz writes to say party organizers at the house pulled a permit and all was legal and aboveboard, if a bit loud. Though the workers at the house told us the party was being filmed for MTV, Hans says the permit was pulled by DKNY. In any event, the tents are down, the show is over and the sounds of coyotes and frogs rule our little canyon once again. Thanks, Hans!
July 3, 2008
The wild life
Have I shown you a photo of the new duck family in the last few days? No? Well here they are, all in a row. (Sorry.)
July 2, 2008
A bit of beachcombing
I skipped missed the $75-per-head grand opening of the Malibu pier last Saturday but returned Monday night to check out the new restaurant, The Beachcomber. Which was closed. Well, kind of. Turns out the owners were doing a shake-down cruise for the official opening tonight, serving free food to friends and family. A little finagling by my companion and voila, we were seated at a seaside booth.
It's a pretty room, right where Alice's Restaurant used to be, only not as big and not as loud. The menu's pricey but the food was truly good, even though on Monday night there was a limited menu and waiters were still figuring out where things are and the whole place was running on a generator. David had the seafood potpie, which was amazing, lots of shrimp and scallops and lobster under a buttery crust. I had a clay pot chicken dish, also really good.
And then it was out onto the pier, built by the Rindge family way back when Malibu was a cattle ranch and the whole 17,000-acre rancho belonged to a single family. Imagine.
June 30, 2008
Catch and release - Malibu shark set free
Remember the young great white shark caught by local fishermen and put into the floating pen last week outside Paradise Cove in Malibu? Biologists released him Sunday after deciding he wouldn't be a good candidate to live for a few months in the Outer Bay exhibit of the Monterey Bay Aquarium.
Meanwhile, a number of readers asked for stats about the sharks that have been captured for study. Here's the info from Ken Peterson, who works with the aquarium:
Since 2002, we and our university research colleagues have handled 30 young white sharks in Southern California waters. Of those, 29 were caught accidentally in gear used by commercial fishermen as they were fishing for sea bass or halibut. The 30th was caught hook-and-line by our staff, and was one of three young sharks brought to the Monterey Bay Aquarium.
Of the 29 caught in commercial gear, five died. Some of those deaths undoubtedly were the result of injuries the sharks sustained in fishing nets before we received them. (There's no definitive way to say in how many cases that was a factor.)
We do know that, because fishermen are willing to alert us when they accidentally catch a young white shark, we've been able to tag and track more than a dozen animals and learn more than has ever been known about their movements in waters off Southern California and Baja. You can find the published data from the initial tagging work here.
As for the shark released Sunday, Peterson says it promptly swam away -- far away, as the sharks collected by the aquarium are too young to show territorial behavior. Biologists say the juveniles, which are fish-eaters, swim throughout SoCal waters, as well as south to Baja, Mexico.
All three sharks that did a stint in the aquarium exhibit were released in the Monterey Bay. The first went to Santa Barbara within the month. The second wound up in Cabo San Lucas in 90 days, and last year's shark -- that's the one in the photo -- took 44 days to get to Cabo and, five months later, was in the Sea of Cortez.
They're still looking for a shark for the exhibit and I'll do what I can to keep up with developments.
June 27, 2008
Another shark in the tank in Malibu
A great white shark has been swimming in the floating pen outside Paradise Cove in Malibu since Tuesday, caught accidentally by a commercial fisherman and turned over to marine biologists with the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It's a young male, 4 feet 9 inches long, no estimates on weight yet.
The shark stays under observation in the 4 million-gallon mesh offshore holding pen until the biologists decide whether to tag and release the him, or send him to Monterey for a star turn in the wildly popular Outer Bay exhibit, the aquarium's largest. If the new great white makes the cut, he'll travel to Monterey via the "Finnebago," a 3,000-gallon oblong holding tank filled with water kept at 68 degrees.
The aquarium typically looks for "young of the year", or sharks under a year old, who eat bait fish but won't hunt larger prey, like seals and sea lions. Opinions about keeping a shark in captivity are - surprise! - sharply divided. Some object on moral grounds, others say learning as much as possible about the predators will help protect them. (For an update on the aquarium's previous tenant, check our recreation blog, Outposts.)
Meanwhile, the newest candidate is swimming in circles in Malibu. We'll let you know what happens next.
June 26, 2008
Surprise - another duck family!
I went for a walk last night. Left the dogs behind, just because I could. Took my camera, because I always do. Went to look at the duck family to see if I could photograph them one more time (silly how I can't bring myself to use the verb "shoot" when living things are involved) and lo and behold, there's a new duck family.
Mama and six ducklings. Here they are, in a bend of the creek where they can hide beneath some low-hanging greenery. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised.
June 25, 2008
Face plant
I know it looks like maybe Maisie was digging up the yard but I swear, this is how she looks after playing ball for just a few minutes. No half-measures for the teacup lab.
June 24, 2008
Paradise Cove - the way it used to be
When we bought the trailer here in Paradise Cove 14 years ago, a series of bruising law suits between residents and the park's owners had turned it into a risky investment and home values had tanked. We had a tiny down payment and this was the only place we could afford. Anywhere.
It was quiet here, a mix of families and retirees. There were no car alarms. There were very few golf carts. You knew everyone you saw on the beach.
In the parking lot below the bluff, The Sand Castle, a full-service restaurant, puttered along. It was a throw-back, Cape Cod decor on the outside, red leather booths and a slightly stodgy menu on the inside. A loyal clientele of regulars kept it going, though weekends and summers saw in increase in tourists and savvy beach goers. The only time The Sand Castle was ever truly jammed was during the fall fires, when it became a de facto evacuation center.
And then, Hollywood-style, Paradise Cove was discovered. The Travel Channel aired a breathless piece about "Millionaire Mobile Home Parks". A story about upscale mobile home remodels made the Home section of the LA Times (and yes, you might recognize the byline). That story got picked up the following week by Good Morning America, then the New York Times, and on and on and that was that. Within months, the Cove had its first million-dollar mobile home sale. Sure, it was for a place right on the bluff with an amazing view, but still, a million dollars for a trailer? (And no, ours isn't worth anywhere near that. Still, if we were to sell now, there's no way we could ever afford to get back in.)
Since then, two-thirds of the houses on my street have sold at least once, most as second homes used only on weekends. The Sand Castle was also sold and the owners of the Paradise Cove Beach Cafe came in. They've added outdoor seating, outdoor bedding and advertised everywhere. The place is always booming. And now the Cove is brawling, a collision between the brash and fast-paced outside world and what was once a quiet, sleepy, little beach.
June 23, 2008
Very smart (car)
The parking lot at PC Greens, our local non-chain organic market, is usually filled with behemoth SUVs stuffed into tiny spaces. Last week, the owner of this Smart Car, which looks like it could easily fit into the bed of that pickup, made even the compact parking spaces look large.
June 20, 2008
Another hot start
I don't mean to post two morning beach pix in a row, but the ease with which today's June Gloom was vanquished deserves to be shared. Let this retreating layer of fog lay to rest any doubts that we're in for a scorcher.
June 19, 2008
Hot
After a week of soft and misty mornings, a clear, hard blue. The mountains are etched and bright and the sky opens wide.
Sun doesn't rise so much as pops. Suddenly, it's hot. No gold tones on the beach, just white shattered light.
June 18, 2008
The kids are allright
Good news - some high tides refreshed the shrinking pond over the last few days and today, the duck family returned. I say returned because the trio of ducklings have lost their down, grown feathers and can fly well enough to leave the pond.
Today I tried to sneak up on them for a photo of their fave hangout, these rusty boxes in the creek bed. But mama duck was too quick, gave a quack and all I got was the photo of a sliding duck butt.
Here they are in full paddle mode, and here's a shot that shows they still listen to their mama.
June 12, 2008
Everybody's got an opinion
So I'm walking down the street in Chicago last weekend (where I got to interview the amazing authors Marianne Wiggins, Marisa Silver, Diana Abu-Jaber, and Arthur Phillips at the annual book fair) when I heard this frenzied barking, high-pitched and edged with rage. There was an insistence to it, a sense of immediate threat that had everyone within earshot acting uneasy.
And there it was, this Benjie-like dog, all fluff and and froth and venom, reaching through the open window and eyeing, I swear, the soft flesh of that biker's throat.
June 11, 2008
They called it puppy love
Yes, Jake loves me, but he adores Karen. Worships the ground she walks on. Has the sound of her silvery Volvo memorized. Would download it into his iPod if only he could save his allowance.
Here he is, googoo-eyed - and out of focus, sorry but I was laughing too hard as I took the photo. At what? This kiss Karen wasn't quite quick enough to avoid.
June 9, 2008
The down-side of egrets
Warning - cell phone shot.
Still, even a paucity of megapixels can't quite hide just how much...ummm...waste a nest of ergets emits in a single afternoon.
June 5, 2008
Bob Dylan's caretaker's cat + lyrics!
After I posted that photo of Bob Dylan's caretaker's cat, a few of you sent me Dylan lyrics. (Thank you!) So here's the cat again, fat and fluffy, a constant visitor to my friend Hope's house.
And here are the lyrics:
From Chris McKay, No Time to Think:
I've seen all these decoys through a set of deep turquoise eyes
And I feel so depressed...
And from David Lassen (who notes this cat is actually a Himalayan but what the heck) Positively 4th Street:
You used to ride on the chrome horse
with the diplomat
who carried on his shoulder
a Siamese cat ...
And I just noticed - this is the 500th entry on this little blog. In the spirit of things, from (appropriately) My Back Pages...
I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
June 3, 2008
Good duck news X 2!
First of all, the little duck family is still here, still OK, and the ducklings are still growing. And tonight, we're expecting a seven-foot high tide. That means there's an excellent chance the shrinking pond will fill with enough fresh water to carry the family through the next few weeks of growth. Phew.
Thank you to everyone who emailed their thoughts, suggestions and good wishes. And there are more duck pix here.
Bride of Disney
I saw no signs of an actual wedding so it may be that this bride and groom stopped by Disney Hall on Friday night just for photographs. Here she is, checking her hair and veil in the car's tinted window.
She was young and quite beautiful and her new husband took great care as he helped her up the steep and winding stairs.
June 2, 2008
There's gold in them thar hills
Today, anyway, when the rising sun spilled out from behind the Santa Monica mountains and glazed everything and anything in its path with a glimmer of gold.
May 31, 2008
Bob Dylan's caretaker's cat
Yep, we've got all sorts of celebs here in Malibu.
May 28, 2008
Should I be worried about the ducklings?
Help! I hate to be all movie-of-the-week worried about the ducklings growing up in the ever-shrinking and increasingly scummy pond here in the Cove, but I visited them yesterday and things look iffy.
You can see why the ducks mated and nested here - the pond looked fine at first. But the tides have been low so no new water is coming in, and what's left has turned stagnant. The water is vanishing, seeping into the sand, I suppose, and evaporating. It's a strange, dark color, and has grown a greenish scum on top.
The ducks, meanwhile, sit on a rusty metal box most of the day. No swimming at all. So how long until the ducklings can leave this place? Are they going to make it? Our LA Observed email isn't working at the moment, so if you really do know about birds, you can reach me at " vdt90265 [at] yahoo dot com ".
May 27, 2008
The shark tank is back in Malibu
Yeah, the photo's a little flat and everything's far away, but that dark line on the water just behind the trawler, that's the portable shark tank. The Monterey Bay Aquarium shark researchers returned this weekend and the tank - they're still setting it up - appeared this morning.
Which means a young great white shark, swimming out there somewhere right now, will soon find itself on display. 
May 23, 2008
Ducklings in the Cove
Kind of hard to see - I'll get a better shot this weekend - but we now have a small flotilla of ducklings living in the creek.
May 21, 2008
Are you looking at me?
One of my reptile neighbors up at the barn, enjoying a moment on the sun-warmed metal of the mower.
May 19, 2008
Double-crested cormorants in the Cove
We live at the edge of the continent here in Paradise Cove. Our street ends at the bluff and from there it's a sheer drop to the Pacific below. Some mornings, you can see all the way to downtown. Others, a wall of fog creeps up the cliff, seeps down the streets, mutes light and sound.
These days, in this fretful, restless heat-soaked spring, you never know what wildlife you'll see. Coyotes panting in the grass, great white egrets dancing on the roof, a trio of ducks on the deck, working out the two-boys one-girl mating math. And now, a dozen double-crested cormorants roosting in a eucalyptus tree. (As usual, thank you to Bill Schmoker for the ID)
You have to stand still for a good, long time to see them all, but bit by bit, with a flap and a rustle and a sigh, they reveal themselves. This one took off just a second after I focused the camera, flew so close I felt the breeze from its wings.
Egrets nesting again in Cross Creek
Lots of flying to and fro, loud clucking and cackling (which actually sounds more like gackling) and the occasional snowy feather drifting down. Can't wait to see the chicks.
May 16, 2008
Baby dolphins in the Cove
We've had a pod of dolphins hanging around the Cove for about a week now, gliding slowly through the kelp beds where a lot of fish live. At dawn they come so close to shore, you can hear them splashing. They'll head up to Point Dume and down to the Malibu pier, but mostly they linger here.
Today, for the first time, we saw these babies, little dorsal fins breaking the surface, tiny bodies popping out of the sea. The adults move slowly, keep the small fry in the middle, keep the dolphin cycle going for another year.
May 15, 2008
A little green around the edges
We're often the only ones on the path at dawn, the running, snuffling dogs telling me all about where the coyotes were last night, the stooping, singing birds telling everyone where the hawk is perched right now. It was a breath of wind that gave this bit of important news, turned up a leaf to reveal clustered droplets left behind by morning mist.
May 14, 2008
Hot dogs with mustard and relish
There's a tree-filled arroyo next to the beach path. A creek runs through it and on spring and summer nights, about a million frogs audition lustily for a chance at a one-night stand.
Right now the whole thing is rimmed with wild mustard, and every time the dogs dash down into the depths on a Very Important Mission that has to do with national security and coyote poop, they come back covered in yellow.
On Maisie it looks just right, a sweet sprinkling of blossoms, like maybe she's the prom queen. And Jake somehow overcomes the fey factor, muscles through and manages to look handsome with a dab of mustard on his noble head.
May 13, 2008
Small victories - PCH project finally over
Remember this?
The construction project is finally over and now it's this:
May 12, 2008
Maisie with a daisy
Why, you ask? (She asks, too - just look at the face.)
And I have no better answer than, why not, or, it rhymes. But really, the daisy is on Maisie's head just because it's fun to say.
May 9, 2008
The sand shifts
Remember this?
Here's how it looks now:
May 6, 2008
There's no sun in NYC?
This full page ad ran in my Sunday New York Times, but nowhere in my LAT. They can make those brushes as clunky and chunky and manly as they want but baby, it's still blush.
Seriously - makeup for men? Is this really going to catch on?
May 5, 2008
The little dog again, this time in focus
On Friday we had a shot of Maisie, in action but out of focus. Today, she's crisp and clear and standing still. Which doesn't mean there wasn't any action. Can you see that tongue? (Can you miss it?) It bobs as she pants, her eyes gleam, her haunches tense as, the instant the shutter clicks, she's off and running. Her legs may be unnaturally short, but she is unexpectedly fast.
May 2, 2008
Out of focus but still funny
Oh how I wish this photo was in focus, the little dog flying through the air, those legs, those ears, the perfect vertical she forms against the earth. She caught the ball much more handily than I caught the shot.
May 1, 2008
Clouds at 6 am = pretty sunrise
This isn't the shot I planned to post but my capricious computer has suddenly, of its own volition, started using Photoshop to upload and archive my pix, and though I'm told it's a wonderful program, I find it utterly impenetrable and now can't find anything when I want it, so here's a sunrise moment, if not the sunrise moment I had originally wanted to share.
April 29, 2008
Furled
So smooth and sleek and silky soft, poppy petals at rest always look somehow like wings. These are at the entrance to Bluffs Park, a stand of gold and green growing from a patch of dry, dusty earth.
April 28, 2008
Pretty in pink in Paradise Cove
Last year, someone planted a few scrawny geraniums, struggling sticks stuck straight into the dirt (you can't call it soil) on the dusty path that leads to the beach here in Paradise Cove. People would water the poor things, lug down gallons in their golf carts and pour it on, and because the ground was packed so hard, the water would run right off, spread everywhere except, or so it looked, near the roots of the plants.
And yet they grew, and here they are now, big and blooming, a pretty pink gateway to the sea.
April 25, 2008
Emily Post - hiding her eyes in horror
Remember how yesterday, after The Attack of the Party Raccoons, I mentioned Maisie was sleeping it off? Here she is, in her favorite position. There was snoring. (Next time, audio.)
April 24, 2008
Oh my god please let me sleep!
It may look like a photo of a branch on a roof but don't be fooled. That, my friends, is the highway to Hell.
A family of raccoons has moved in somewhere nearby (OK, I'll be honest, I'm pretty sure they're under the house) and they're holding a series of cocktail parties and get-acquainted mixers for the rest of the raccoons here in Paradise Cove.
Last night, no fewer the a hundred of them moved the festivities, a rave, I think, to the roof. Climbed right up that tree, hired a live band and danced, with lots of thumping and squealing and galloping about. Maisie the Teacup Lab, needless to say, was beside herself. She came thisclose to climbing the tree to break up the party.
At what time, you ask? At 3 a.m., right after she barked like a maniac in her disturbingly low voice, rousted me out of a warm bed and yelled at me until I climbed up on the roof in my pajamas and bare feet and then realized just how dumb that was as a herd of drunken raccoons thundered past. But it did no good. They came again and then again, all night long, and we got no sleep. All that was left this morning were some beer cans, a few tiny glow sticks, and a couple of hits of X.
Anyway, Maisie is sleeping right now, snoring in fact, lying on her back with her four stubby legs waving gently in the air. And me? Sleep-walking through the day, and through this little tale.
April 22, 2008
Egrets nesting again
They're back, those goofy and lovely birds, all pure white feathers and big yellow feet. They nested here last year (and for years before that) and, thank goodness, they're here again. Lots of flights in and out of the tree that throws shade on the Cross Creek parking lot, some quacky conversations, a spiky, spindly nest and, soon, eggs and then, hatchlings. Can't wait!
April 17, 2008
Walks like a duck
Swims like a duck, too. This is one of three males who've taken to loitering in this little pond created by the creek that runs to the sea. Girl ducks (birders everywhere - I hear you laughing) have done a few fly-overs, but either the time's not right or the pickings are slim, because so far, they keep right on going.
April 16, 2008
Early, sunny and cold
It's been a while, so here's a sunrise. Well, not quite the sunrise, just the glow of the sun trapped in the cloud bank that has Santa Monica socked in. It was utterly quiet this morning, some trick of the slight breeze carried the rumble of PCH elsewhere.
I've been staring at a computer for most of the day for three months now and the non-pixilated shapes and colors of the real world bring vivid relief.
April 11, 2008
And now, a moment of purple
Finally, after watching the bloom move from Long Beach to Redondo Beach and even to Venice, I see the wisteria that hang over my back garden fence have flowered. They're right next to those nasturtiums that returned this year, and the contrast of colors against the bleached-out wooden fence is so lovely, it's hard to walk away.
April 10, 2008
It was only a matter of time
Can you see the writing on the sign? It says "Millionaire Mutt".
Oh yeah, there's definitely going to be a field trip. (And maybe even a tiara for Maisie.)
April 9, 2008
Rudy finds the catbird seat
There's nothing flimsy about the '49 Plymouth - it's post-war technology, solid as a tank. The seats are comfy, the steering wheel's wide, and the steel doors shut with a lovely, bass thunk. Lately, in this slow, chill spring, it's Evinrude's favorite place.
He follows the sun - the roof at mid-morning, the hood (where it's cooler) in mid-afternoon, then topside again as evening falls. All around, in the morning glory vines, the jacaranda, the palm and banana trees next door, birds are busy.
Rudy watches, sometimes sits to let them know he's there, but mostly sleeps, obeys his personal muse.
April 8, 2008
The calendar says spring but...
It's cold here in Malibu (I hear laughter echoing off icicles north and east of here) and it's gray. Clear morning skies cloud over and that marine layer rolls in, our version of weather.
So when the nasturtiums in my side yard popped open, it was a revelation. Orange - I remember the warm, sweet, resonant chime of orange. And I crave it so much I stuck my camera down this flower's throat and took about a million pictures.
April 3, 2008
Doggie calculus in the wilds of Malibu
She's always in the lead, little Maisie. She's smaller than Jake so she's faster and more nimble. But other than when she's chasing the ball, a moment in time I'm convinced she thinks she's a wolf running down some helpless prey (though this particular wolf has short tiny legs, big puppy eyes and has developed a bit of a belly) she makes sure she never gets too far ahead.
It's like she's got some calibrated graph in her head, she's X, I'm Y and Jake is the axis on which Maisie sets us. She nudges and herds him and, when she can't stand for one more minute that he's NOT OBEYING, she just grabs him.
So here, though you maybe can't tell, she's keeping a precise distance. Jake never gets too far behind and, most important to Maisie, he's positioned so she can whirl around and clamp her tiny jaws around his neck at a moment's notice.
April 2, 2008
PCH - the devil's playground
March 31, 2008
Google buys Malibu for SoCal campus
Search engine giant Google has shelled out $12.8 billion to purchase the entire city of Malibu in a complex and secretive deal that involved dozens of city and state agencies and requires Department of Justice approval.
Insiders say that Pepperdine University, located on county land, is not part of the deal. The company, which will take ownership of Malibu's 27 miles of coastline later this month, plans to change to city's name to Googlebu.
And really, because I've never been a big fan of this whole April Fool's thing, that's as far as I can go. April Fool, and I'm sorry.
To make up for it, some wildlflowers on the path to the beach, a warm and welcome jolt of gold that glows on a shady slope.
Worse than learning there's no Santa
Here's little Maisie, the teacup lab, moments after realizing the ball, it's gone forever. Despite diving into the depths of the canyon, in spite of much yipping (and some slipping) down the hill, she failed to find the small round yellow thing she loves so much.
It somehow flew sideways out of my hand (hey, it was early. And cold. And I was wearing my bulky jacket) and that was that. So here's little Maisie, the teacup lab, sad, and I can't quite tell who she blames more - herself, or me.
March 28, 2008
Mr. Cranky Pants of Malibu
We're at Malibu Kitchen, early morning and it's cold. Well, not cold cold since it's California and we are, after all, deciding whether to sit inside or out, but it's too cold to comfortably put a warm derriere on a metal chair.
So we go inside where NO ONE IS SITTING and take two of the SIX CUSHIONS from the EMPTY CHAIRS where NO ONE IS SITTING. We go outside and just as we're about to enjoy the breakfast we bought at the Malibu Kitchen (blueberry muffins as big as your head) the notoriously cranky owner comes out and demands the cushions back. Because the chairs inside, where NO ONE IS SITTING, aren't quite as comfy without cushions.
Here's what we said that didn't matter a bit: You've got six cushions, we just took two; no one is inside; we'll return the cushions if someone does come; we're paying customers and we want cushions; do you know they call you The Soup Nazi of Malibu?
Well, we didn't say the last part, but the couple sitting next to us did, and laughed and laughed as they told story after story of the abusive treatment they've had at the hands of the cranky man.
And then we stole cushions from another set of chairs but the cranky man was happily pissing off another customer so he never noticed and we had our breakfast in peace. And, because the food is so good and abuse is addictive, went back the next day, too.
March 26, 2008
Just sand, no footprints
Get up early and you're the only person on the beach. Get lucky and a slow, overnight tide has rolled in and rolled out, a million little waves that packed the sand, patted it clean.
I love the morning light here, how it goes gold against the cliffs, shines golden on the beach, pulls blue and gray and green from the water, then warms the chilly breeze that flows from the canyon.
March 21, 2008
Sunset and seagulls
I've been all about the sunrise on this blog, understandable since all it takes is to stumble from bed and head for the bluff a few hundred feet away. But this carved and curvy bit of coast gives us perfect sunsets, too.
Here's a flight of gulls in the last rays of the last light of the last day of winter. The wind was so still you could hear the rustle of their wings, picture the give in the hooks and barbs keeping each feather sleek, keeping the birds aloft.
March 19, 2008
What the rains left behind
Green, that's what the rains left behind. Everywhere you look, something budding, something sprouting, something bursting forth.
Here's the burn at Bluffs Park, transformed into a savanna where snakes and hawks and coyotes hunt, and rabbits and quail and deer and doves go about their daily lives. The scent of a million little dramas makes the dogs unhinged. They zigzag on the path, vanish from view in the grass (though I call them back - they're not allowed to chase or disturb anyone who lives here.)
I get a bit unhinged, too, as the broad strokes of green and the infinity that is blue whisper spring-fevered sweet somethings into my willing ear.
March 18, 2008
A hut returns to the beach
The path to the water in the Cove is known (to people who have lived here for a while, anyway) as the Hut Road. Back when we first moved in, someone would haul a few boards to the beach each spring and frame up a simple room. Sometimes it stood on stilts, sometimes it sat on the sand. They'd thatch it with palms and fabric, decorate with shells and there it would sit, party central, drying, bleached by the sun, until the first big waves of winter took it away.
It's been a while since the last hut. A few years back some cranky, prissy condo dwellers took issue with the free-spirited tradition and ripped apart and dragged away a particularly lovely little room. (Then they cemented a huge "No Trespassing" sign to a rock formation, and were forced to take it down when a judge ruled it not just ugly and obnoxious, but illegal.)
So it was a nice surprise to find this little hut on the beach last night. It's just a frail and flimsy tent any wind could take down, but it's a hut nonetheless.
Spring, it seems, is nearly here.
March 17, 2008
Still dry here in Malibu
It tried to rain over the weekend, managed a few sprinkles up in the hills. But other than this promising patch of clouds during the Sunday sunrise (and a couple of mighty chilly mornings) it has stayed dry here on our little stretch of coastline.
March 12, 2008
Big Wednesday
OK, not that big, but big enough that we heard the swell building all night in the Cove.
This morning, some nice waves and a single surfer, riding and resting, patient as the tide rolled in and the sets kept getting bigger and better.
March 11, 2008
Signs of spring
We went to Bluffs Park the other day, warm and sunny with a touch of spring fever in the air. Lots of people in the playground, not too many on the bluff.
Other than this rusty, crusty and somewhat toasted sign, it's all soft and green as far as the eye can see. No signs of the recent fires, no hint of the dry months to come. Just a plea to please stay on the trails. (Yes, please do.)
March 6, 2008
Because PCH isn't enough of a challenge
Hoping for an easy drive on our scenic little seaside highway today? Good luck!
Thanks to a four-month-long (!) project where a really big machine is hacking away at a very steep cliff, the four lanes of PCH have dwindled to three and, as I discovered yesterday morning, occasionally none.
Books on Tape anyone?
March 5, 2008
High, higher, highest tide
Another high tide this morning - 5.7 feet above sea level - and here are the Cove, we're cut off.
Head south and the bluff butts out, sea swirls through a spill of big rocks. To the north, it's an obstacle course, first the creek, then a channel, then (again) the bluff.
The sand's all soft and squishy, wears out the dogs, makes a ffft-ing sound with each receding wave. Just enough surf to get that sweet ocean scent into the air, that salty tang that makes you wonder what on earth is worth leaving for.
Here's the creek that runs to the sea. Today, tide so high the sea's running into the creek.
March 4, 2008
It's a blossom, dearie
The backyard here in Malibu used to be one big, thick slab of concrete. Good for shunting rainwater into the neighbor's yard, not so good for gardening. So when a wind storm blew down not just the rotted rear fence, but five rotted trees as well (welcome to homeownership!) we took the hint.
We sledge-hammered the concrete slab and hired a very nice guy to haul it away. Then, because the Cove insisted we had to replace all five trees, I put in two California peppers, plus a peach, a fig and a nectarine. It all went well until the peppers found a source of water that turned them into hulking giants. They blocked all the sun and the fruit harvest slowly ground to a halt.
Last week, a friend helped move the peach and the nectarine trees to his house near the barn. We planted, watered and waited. And yesterday, here's what I found - a peach blossom. (Six, actually.) And some big fat buds on the nectarine. That doesn't mean the transplant was a success, but we've got our fingers crossed. (And my ice cream maker ready.)
March 3, 2008
This is the light. I mean...life.
High tide, high skies, deep blues, big sun - add them up and you get a raging case of spring fever.
(And here's the bluff reflected in a pool of water.)
March 1, 2008
Where did the time go?
I looked at my little blog this morning and was shocked (shocked!) to see I'd only posted three times this week. What happened? Could it be that when you think about the photo you want to publish and then write the words in your head, Technorati doesn't automatically blog it? Who knew?
I've got excuses reasons, of course, like the two hours each day that get eaten up by the commute to my new blog. I mean job, blogging for the LAT. And then I lost my camera and then it rained and then Barbie joined "Survivor."
Anyway, because all of the above excuses reasons still hold true this weekend (except I found my camera) I'm leaving you with a Maisie photo you may have seen in my flickr photo stream.
Little dog, big shadow. And very, very big tongue.
February 27, 2008
She's baaaack
February 26, 2008
Ahhh, the sunrise
It's been a few weeks since I saw the sun rise here in Malibu. There was work, there was rain, and there was work while it rained.
I would have worked right through the sunrise again today except the birds all went a little nuts. Not just the usual early-morning tweets and twitters but full-on arias with rhythm, melody and crescendo, and tiny little diva dresses cut down to there.
Here's what they were serenading, those early birds - rhythm, melody and crescendo out on the horizon, pink and blue and gold, expanding for all to see.
February 24, 2008
New storms, new birds, old patterns
A group of egrets has moved into the Cove during this last set of storms. They huddle near the spot where a creeks flows into the sea. In the days right after a rain, the steep dirt road that drops down to the sand is so muddy and slick, the birds have the beach all to themselves.
February 22, 2008
The view from here
What we saw today, just as the rain cleared and a ray of sun hit the sodden earth:
