It is evening, the sun is setting over Los Angeles, a steady stream of traffic flows east and west on Beverly Boulevard, the amazing panoply of Los Angeles’ vehicles, from the everyday to exotic brands I am unable to identify. Last night, outside La Scala, where I was having dinner an enormous Rolls limo waited for someone, with an assortment of Range Rovers, Lamborghinis, Mercedes, and a BMW that was identified to me as a hybrid sportscar from that brand.
Once, June Lockhart’s manager, Pat Newby, said to me, when I lived here, that Los Angelino’s wore their cars like furs, parading status. She was persuading me to buy a Mercedes to up mine; I bought a Saab convertible. This is a city that has been very good to me and a city in which I would not like to live again; it is now in my life’s wake and, while it is interesting to pause here, I am delighted it is a pause.
Yesterday, Joyce, who is the owner of Edgartown Books, and I got together and began to work out the threads of the summer. Events, staffing, how to order books – who would think ordering books for a bookstore would take an advanced degree? The process is mind boggling! And, to my great delight, three of my favorites from last year will be returning – the stalwart Comrade Vlad, from Romania; the amazing Tea, from Serbia, and the magnificent Alexander, just finishing his first year at Duke. I am so pleased I could burst!
This morning, I had breakfast with Michael, once a boyfriend, now a friend, happy he is in a grand relationship with another man, whom he deserves. It makes me smile to see him happy; something he richly deserves. I was to have dinner tonight with a friend, postponed now to breakfast in the morning, due to a bronchial infection she is fighting.
The little hotel in which I am staying is one where I tarried for two months long ago when I was here on a project and for which I have fond memories. It has no restaurant but serves a lovely breakfast in the morning and a nice wine reception in the evening and is surrounded by restaurants if you want more. I recommend it, called the Elan, just east of the Beverly Center.
Tomorrow evening I will have dinner with my much-loved godson, who I have not seen in many months and I am looking forward to that with much anticipation, much to catch up on and his presence always brightens my life.
Monday, I will see my friend Tory, in from Nashville to visit her parents, have lunch with Medora and Meryl, my stalwart friends of long standing; we talk once a week, buttressing each other as the winds of life cause us to sway in its gusts.
Then back east on Tuesday morning, returning to The Keene Farm for a few days of rest and relaxation before a train takes me to DC.
The vagabond life goes on. More to come. As always.
Letter from the Vineyard 
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