More of the Night Before Last, Yesterday Afternoon and This Morning

I'm back in Los Angeles, the Oscar helicopters are circling, and I've already scrubbed my Barbie bathroom clean. 

Let's reminisce.

Here I am in the Chihuly boathouse BATHROOM. It was filled with vintage children's books and weird animal figurines. It was, after the pool, my most favorite room:

Here's a magnificent 85-foot table, made from one slice of a tree that was felled when too many prisoners in a penitentiary used it for escape. It begged for someone to dance right down it, but I refrained.

Here's a close-up of the sculptures that ran down the table in rainbow colors:

Here's a close-up of the bar. See that familiar photo of moi? It was sitting right below the bottle of Scuttlebutt beer that features a mermaid and the letter S. Like my friend Carrie says, There are no accidents. Those photo cards were distributed throughout the boathouse -- the beautiful people at Caregifted loved our video and used the still photos in such a beautiful way.

There were stacks and stacks of warm-colored Navajo blankets in a room ringed by low leather armchairs and a wall of sepia-toned photos of Native Americans. There was poetry by Heather McHugh and Robert Pinsky. There was jazz by Molly Ringwald. There was an excerpt of an upcoming documentary about us -- long-time caregivers of the disabled, made by the extraordinary Adam Larsen. Remember that name. My friend Cara and I drank, perhaps, a bitt too much beer and wine. We laughed a lot. I told her secrets, and she held them. When the event was over, we took a taxi to a restaurant called Grub, and I ate sauteed calamari with a light, flavorful sauce of tomatoes and wine and garlic. I drank a whiskey sour, and I slept well.

Yesterday afternoon, we hosted a luncheon for the caregivers, and I met and talked with the most wonderful people -- all recipients of respite weeks. They each have incredible stories, many of which will be featured in the documentary.  It was rainy in Seattle that afternoon, but I lay on my bed and read and thought about everything, relished it all. Last night, I sat in the living room, sipped some berry wine and talked for hours to Adam about caregiving, about dance and documentary and cities and life. Remember what I said. Remember Adam Larsen's name!

This morning, I woke early, and Heather gave me a ride to the airport. We stopped at a funky hippy bakery and got coffee, talked every second of the 45 minute trip. I love this woman and can't believe my good fortune to have met her.

How's that for superlatives thrown willy-nilly?


Reader, what did you do this weekend?