This morning I went on a Craig's List reconnaissance mission to Pacific Palisades & Santa Monica. Following an hour behind in his truck was Dude With Truck. His job: to pick up what I pay for. The little file cabinet on wheels was a steal for $30. And it looks new!
I donated the old cat scratch post to science and got a new one. It's not a velvet tangerine sofa, but it'll do. It'll more than do. I wound my way up into the hills with a view of the pale blue Pacific. Plunked down some hard cold cash for my new comfy chocolate sofa, and sped down the hill to a cool loft like apartment on Main Street in Santa Monica for the pine desk.
Glittering sunshine. I breathed in lungfuls of air that smelled like oranges, fresh laundry, the sea. I had one of those big thoughts we get sometimes. There's a whole series of these. They go together. Today I had the one called Life Is Beautiful. I think it was right after I passed a fellow in the front seat of his parked VW bus strumming his guitar and singing off key. One argyle stockinged foot sticking out the open window.
I went home. I waited for Dude. I unpacked more boxes. Rearranged the supply closet. I made a mess. He delivered everything. I made a bigger mess.
I took a break. Let my thoughts twist themselves around each other.
Now it's night. On a Saturday in November. In a little cottage. On a little hill. Surrounded by the gleaming metropolis. Hey you up there in the airplane flying over the carpet of lights looking down at all the tiny houses! Hey! It's me, mary ann moss down here. Blowing you a kiss.