The old ones were fiberglass. It took us all day to do these, and we had to go back to town for more supplies three times, but we have bright shiney new sinks.
Now the trick will be to refrain from obsessively wiping the water spots off of them at all hours of the day and night.
Sorry, Hydra, I don't have the before pix with me... They will follow!
I got to work at 6am in hopes of leaving a little early, but I am still here. Will leave at 3pm after nine straight hours at my desk. Creak!
Already there are two accidents and three reports of debris in the road between me and home. Half of this happened between the time I took the photo and the time I rechecked, so they don't show up here.
It's going to get ugly out there, ladies and gentlemen.
I’m listening to a audiobook of A Farewell to Arms, thank goodness.
We watched part of a wonderful documentary about Passionworks Studios a place where developmentally challenged artists work.
This was captured from Braveheart’s big screen TV.
The artist’s first name is Harry, I think.
Oh no! I went to Target to pick up these photos of Gia’s cats. The black and white one died this week, and Gia was very upset and wanted to have a little memorial for Angie the cat before our writing group met.
I took these photos of Angie and Becky on a great afternoon when Gia and I were writing in her apartment.
Why am I back at the office? Because the frames were a tiny tiny bit too small for the photos! I had to go back to my office and cut them down! (One of those hours when you begin to question whether everything is going against you. But no, you can’t go there.)
Okay, what the heck. Why not today? It’s going to be a busy one, but many of them are.
Polly Pockets pals in a water jug. The boss’s 7-year-old daughter has to amuse herself in our office, so the 5 gallon jugs were used for doll spelunking this morning.
There was a fire in Placerita Canyon yesterday afternoon. I went a long way around to avoid it and to go to the Trader Joe’s in Valencia. This was the view on Vasquez Canyon Road near the intersection with Sierra Highway.
Probably only Hydra will know what this means, but they are nice road names.
This is the view from my new porch swing, which is actually located under the big tree on the hill side of the house rather than on the porch. It’s the coolest place on the hottest day.
Yes, I was trying out the “it folds down into a bed” feature, so the photograph is right side up. It was yours truly who was head over heels. Or, actually, heels over head.
Other than the big bar down through the middle of the so-called bed, it was quite comfortable. I won’t be using it this way often, but the view’s nice, no?
I think I enraged a hummingbird by being back there, but hey, I’m feeding him, so he should just be a little more gracious.
He was my first author. You know, the first author who’s books I sought out because he wrote them. I waited for his new books to be released.
I remember receiving The Martian Chronicles for Christmas when I was in 8th grade. I don’t know if I’d asked for science fiction or for him specifically, but it was a much coveted book and I was thrilled. I like his style of science fiction, which is more about putting real human beings in unusual situations and seeing how they’ll react and adapt. I think he celebrates humanity, with all its flaws.
My junior English teacher knew him, because her father was the famed E.E. “Doc” Smith, a very early sci-fi writer. She didn’t much like Bradbury and we argued about whether he wrote science fiction or science fantasy. Not enough nuts and bolts for her.
I met Bradbury briefly at a reading about 10 years ago and dropped my teacher’s name…told him how I’d defended him. He is very generous to writers and does lots of readings and signings. He signed my copy of Zen and the Art of Writing.
