In as much as this is allegedly a knitting blog, here’s a picture of some of the latest work, a long-sleeved, raglan cardigan with cables up the front and nice knit-in pockets. I have just started the sleeves. Very nice, mindless knitting. One of the women I work with wanted me to knit the sweater. Well, darn it, I believe in being PAID for my work As with most part-time employees, her real career has nothing to do with money. She’s an artist. So in exchange for this sweater, she is painting a watercolor portrait of our five cats. So here is Pepper, giving the sweater her own particular catly blessing.

And now here we are in LA. The flight was a dream of speed and ease. (hooray Alaska Airlines! They still give you free soda and water and a tiny bag of crackers for your mid-flight nibbles. And for a special treat, they also offered free samples of a Northwest beer and a northwest wine!) And our checked bag arrived with us safe, sound and unrifled.

We are staying at the airport Marriot. I am delighted. It’s clean and attractive, and the room has a balcony that’s actually big enough to sit on.- about 8X10. It even has a pool view – of the Hilton hotel across the street. We are on the fifth floor of a five floor wing which gives me great comfort since, in case of earthquake, there are not 20 more floors on top of us to squash on down. As I explained to DH, the numbers of hours I’ve been in LA and experienced earthquakes are a much higher percentage of my total time in LA than his. It’s not surprising that I should be unduly concerned.

I am, however, having connection problems. They offer WIFI – oh boy! They charge $12.99 a day for the privilege. Holy crap! Worse than that, WIFI is not available above the 2nd floor. Well what a swell lot of help THAT is! I can pay $12.99 to sit in the lobby till my battery runs out? Woohoo. (I really need some punctuation that indicates the reverse of an exclamation point.) So I may not post till I get to the airport. Sorry for the long delay, mi amigos.

Reportage: Saturday: The party was great fun. Here is Roxie with the 1937 Ford – not a convertible. Additional shots of the beloved “Bondolay”


The party was held in the Laguna Hills, South of LA, - out in the dessert. The place was a small mansion, and the host flew in a chef from Louisiana. I ate catfish (it always tastes muddy to me.) and cajun shrimps (hot) and barbecued chicken, and bread pudding (yum!!) and jambalaya (HOT! HOT!) with soft-shell crab. I’ve never eaten soft-shell crab before, and were it not for the food channel, would have had no idea how to go about it. (just chomp it down) Wish I could tell how it tasted. By then, my tastebuds were incinerated – as in totally numb. I don’t know if I’ll be able to taste anything at all today.

So I’m a wuss. The party was great fun, beautifully situated, and full of interesting people. And driving around in the Bondolay was a treat! I love the way heads turn and second looks are taken out on the freeway. I wanted to smile and wave, but was told that such behavior is not cool. Not cool at all. Or, as Harry put it, “Geeze, Rox, don’t act like a MO-ron!” I love Harry. He says what he thinks, he’s a bit crusty, but he’s always the one who steps up and does the right thing.

Sunday: Kyle’s sister took us to the LA County fair. What a kick! For one thing, California is a lot less rigid about booze. Every third stand was a beer booth. People were wandering around all over with their paper cups full of brew. At fairs in Oregon, there’s one little fenced in enclave where you may sit and drink, but you may not take alcohol into the fair itself. Guess folks are less concerned with underage drinking in LA

It was about 90 degrees and dry as a sauna. The sun blasted down, and bounced off the asphalt, and I sweated like an express pony all day long. Kyle’s sis asked if my sun-block had a coloring agent in it, because I have a light golden tone to my skin. Nope – but I have been eating a heck of a lot of carrots. As in about two pounds a week. Lordee, I think I AM turning orange!

We rode the giant slide. They charged $3 per person, or $6 for five tickets. So DH bought five tickets, found two little kids, and spread a little random happiness. I love him so much!!

I got up at the top, sat down on my burlap bag, settled my tote bag on my lap, grabbed my hat, and pushed off. Wheee! YeeeHAH!! I love squealing with glee on these things. When I hit the bottom, they asked me if I wanted to go again, because I attracted people with my noise. DH and his sis were “cool,” and silent, so, since they weren’t getting offers of free rides, I regretfully turned it down.

We found a booth selling pearl oysters. DH insisted I had to have one. Omigawd it’s beautiful! It’s 7mm, silver, with a pink luster.

I found only one stall selling yarn, and she had it just as a side addition to her aroma-therapy line, because she dyes her own for a hobby and her friends told her she had to start selling it. It’s superwash alpaca sock yarn. Isn’t it wild? Had to have it!

Finally found the woman’s building where the quilts and knitting and all were displayed. Wonder if I can enter the LA county fair? A lot of the stuff looked very “made with loving hands at home.” I probably ought to enter in my own county, but the competition’s a LOT stiffer in Clackamas County Oregon. At LA county they had a garment/ tunic /overshirt / thingy - crocheted quite loosely with the legs of used pantyhose. With toes dangling and unfinished ends hanging out. And it got a blue ribbon. Well, there’s a category for everything. Maybe it was in the “dress like a tramp” category.

Not a lot of Four-H stuff in LA county, which isn’t that big a surprise. When you think of LA county, you just don’t think of farms and ranches. We missed the pig races, and decided not to go into the insect barn. There’s just a limit to how much fun a person can stand!

I really scored for lunch. I found a place that sold baked potatoes and roasted corn. Plain baked potato, eat the skins as well, and unbuttered corn. Good for me! And it was yummy. DH and his sis has hot dogs. Then they had beers. It cost $20 for two bottles of beer!! Twenty dollars! Shrieek! I had some lemonade. Sooo virtuous! Only $3 for a stinkin’ fifty cent cup of lemonade. Well, it was either that, or drink out of the tap in the ladies’ room.

There were boothes with clothing and booths with magnetic jewelry to fix your arthritis and booths with pot and pans, and choppers in hoppers, and miracle-kleen cloths and wonder mops and amazavitamins and mink oil products, and emu oil, and elephant oil (in case your elephant gets squeaky) and leather goods and sexy Halloween costumes (already!) and really, more things than you could look at in a MONTH of Sundays. I ran out of go about 3:30. DH remarked that I was still grinning, but my eyes were glazed.

I slept really, reallly well!!