Olive oil on you toasted bagel?

I'm not planning on being in any condition to drive over the next few days. I've been diligently taking care of jobs around the house and garden. A phone call to my window supplier revealed that, why of course the windows are supposed to be painted on the outside and stained or primed and painted on the inside. News to me. I've also become entranced by the spectacular blooms in my garden: currently bearded and yellow Iris are abundant and enormous. They seem happy, but there are some who have been overtaken by the spread of Mexican Sage or Rosemary, and should be relocated once the green is going.

The moon is nearly full, and the air has been mild and fresh.

The pugs and I are all three worn out from work and walks in the sand.

The bats have nearly all left the attic! It's been a long haul, persuading them that there are really much more comfortable places for them to roost and making the conditions up there increasingly uncomfortable for them until they agreed with me and left. Or died.

Two bats had become tangled in netting that I've stapled under eaves to discourage the swarms of swallows that are desperate to colonize my house as sundown approaches. Their mummified convulsions were evidence of unpleasant deaths. I was surprised to see the quantity (two dozen or more) and sharpness (razor sharp) of their teeth, although they were tiny. I'm sure that had their little faces not been desiccated from hours, days, or weeks spent suspended by an entangled wingtip or toenail from a tattered bird netting.

A third bat had found its way into the living room, and met his demise hanging upside down a few inches from the cord to the window blind.

Peter Mintun is in town, he played a gig at the Venetian Room on Saturday, and he's playing at the Art Deco Ball this coming week. The SF International Film Festival has got everyone excited, and of course there are freeways being melted by exploding gasoline trucks.



p.s. watched "The Patsy" on TCM's "Silent Sunday" tonight. Marion Davies was so funny on film! It's a very cute comedy, younger sister Pat has a crush on big sister Grace's boyfriend, and moons around whenever they're visiting. Grace is no good, and boyfriend doesn't know Pat is alive, until...this was a "Marion Davies Production" and Directed by King Vidor. Marie Dressler played the mother, and rumor has it that she was prepared to end her life when she was spotted having her "last meal" in a Hollywood restaurant and re-discovered on the spot. It was pretty obvious that that story was entirely concocted by a Hedda Hopper, with the express purpose of diverting attention away from Marion Davies.
"She was all dressed up in black lace! There were candles on the table, and she was dining alone!"