Walk Into a Shop

For one errand, then another, we've found ourselves in San Diego more than usual... far more than usual. Once I get over being turned around, one way streets, parking rules, and the accelerated pace, I find that there is a lot to discover and enjoy, a lot to appreciate, Downtown. On one such excursion, we walked through Little Italy, then into something of an old curiosity shop, called Architectural Salvage. Rust and wear, treasures everywhere.

















My thoughts, this morning, are as pressing, random, worn, frayed, and eclectic as the bits and bobs in this shop. I wish they were as orderly.

* Alex has his passport.
* I love letters, alphabets.
* Ants come into houses when the weather changes.
* The weather changed.
* I've made reservations, and tentative plans for a visit to colleges.
* Tuesday evenings = cheap night at the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz. Rides are a $1.
* Thank you Bethany.
* My strong convictions and ideals are not impervious, nor immune, to the pressures, expectations, demands, criticisms, accusations, assumptions, hopes, wishes, good intentions, doubts, second guesses, and confusion that comes with having a high school senior who intends to pursue a higher education.
* You can do too little.
* You can do too much.
* You will get it wrong, if even by doing it right.
* It will be what it will be, but someone's gonna get blamed.
* I feel stressed. And a weensy bit cynical.
* Someone should water the garden.
* But drought.
* Where is Maria's Pluto shirt? {It's always been a planet in her heart.}
* Ever since articles about the perils of sitting have been popping up everywhere, I find myself laying down, more, just to be safe.
* I love enamel ware.
* I love store cats.
* Hit me up for beets.
* We have a lot of beets.
* The dress shirt William is sewing is turning out really well.
* I miss Mexico.
* I miss BFTC. I miss him a lot. It makes me cry.
* This could go on all day.
* But, there's too much to do.