Finalized details for picking up a car tomorrow. Rather than renting through a traditional car rental company, we’re renting peer-to-peer via the Turo app. Blue Betty (the car) will be waiting for us in a parking lot; we’ll find the key in a lockbox in a wheel well.
Category: Place
View from a Couch
Lying low feels good while we both wait out stubborn colds. A 10-minute walk to a cafe for coffee and Madeleines provided a sufficient sense of accomplishment. We’d rather be up on the trails, but our bodies say otherwise.
La Vie à Palm Springs
On my neighborhood walk, “an Americano for here” became “un Americano pour ici” in Café mon Amour where all the staff speak French. Edith Piaf sang her heart out while I lingered.
Stations of the Flight
Deicing fluid battered the fuselage at MSP, en route to Palm Springs.
Remote Plant Watering
In Minneapolis I lay on the couch, grouchy, nursing a cold, periodically flushing out radiation. From Palm Springs Dwight remotely watered our apartment garden. The plants look good to me, but doubtless he’ll see issues when we both return to Minneapolis at the end of the month.
A Slow Day
Nibbled cookies a friend brought over, drank vast quantities of water (doctor’s orders) and looked out at falling snow.
Corporate Spoken Here
On my walk, looked around a hotel populated by conventioneers who may never leave the property except to fly home. I can enjoy a night or two in a place like this, but it’s poor value: I don’t sit by pools or play golf or want to overhear business jargon.
Celeb Homes Gawk Walk
On my walk, two women asked me to point them towards celebrity homes. I waved towards Marilyn Monroe’s (shown here) and Liberace’s, then helped them install an app that gives map and verbal directions to a bunch of homes. They continued their walk, now with purpose, squealing with delight.
Collecting Calories
On my urban walk: refueled at a donut shop where I had a nice chat with the person ahead of me in line while her order for seven dozen assorted donuts was being fulfilled one-at-a-time; guilted by Girl Scouts to buy cookies; filled my large backpack at a supermarket.
Variety Pack
Today’s walk took me: under “The Bridge of Thighs” connecting two halves of a nudist resort; later, a front yard the artist/homeowner filled with huge, garish, improbable sculptures made from found objects; next, a block away, Twin Palms, Frank Sinatra’s forever cool former home.