Every day is its own journey, and this one, today, has been a good one.

At ten,  I drove to a garage to pick up Pam and got stopped by a train--which I decided to make into a windshield panorama.

After that, avoiding my wonderful but overly-chatty handyman and looking for a drawer pull and some solitude, I stumbled across a place I'd been looking for ever since they moved from Hildebrand.  What a wonderful place it is, Pickers Paradise, filled with old architectural things, doors, windows, hardware, chandeliers, shutters, salvaged when Kurt demolishes old buildings and houses.

It's moved--if you're in the market for such things--from Hildebrand to Five Points on Fredricksburg Road and it's now a multi-roomed warehouse of architectural wonders.

After that, I came back and made egg salad for Ed and me and he always finds things that need fixing that trump the things he came for.  But a house of this age needs occasional tending and he's the best one to do it.

By nightfall, I was in the mood for a retreat, so I am camping out in the casita, just me and the characters on Bed of Roses.