Jade
January 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
Back east, where I lived for most of my life, jade plants were delicate things in small pots. Even the one I gave to my mother, gardener par excellence, remained bonsai-size, never taller than 7 or 8 inches.
At a North Shore Chicago florist, where I worked in graduate school, we marveled at a splendiferous jade plant brought in for repotting. It must have been a couple feet across–a veritable tree!
Then I moved to Southern California and discovered that jade plants grow like weeds here. One of my neighbors has a 20-foot-wide thicket of jade plants along the perimeter of her property. Every year in the dry season, the plant’s thumb-like leaves shrivel into desiccated remnants of their former selves, and I think, “Surely this time they’re dead.” And every year when the rains come, the leaves plump up again in a remarkable display of regeneration.
In a region where seasonal changes are subtle, I admire the jade’s blatant surprise.
Read, look, listen, learn
January 16, 2013 § 1 Comment
Three cheers for the Silver Lake branch of the Los Angeles Public Library. Lot’s of natural light! Platinum LEED rating! Kiddie computer desks! Wi-fi! Reading nooks! Quiet room! Hipster librarians! Community room! Movies! CDs (music & books)! Manga! Vampires! Silverlake shelf! Computer carrels! Comfy chairs!
My natural habitat.
Armstrong Hill
January 15, 2013 § Leave a comment
If you live on the east side of town, you probably know what this is: the Silverlake Reservoir walking path where it parallels Armstrong Avenue. The path has become a superhighway of sorts, a constant flow of runners and walkers in the mornings and evenings. In fact, there’s rarely a time of day when there aren’t people circling the reservoir. I don’t know how early they start, but I do know that I’ve driven by late in the evening–say 9 or 9:30–and there were people out there in the dark.
I’m happy to see so many getting exercise, although I’ve also been known to complain about extra traffic and drivers who park with their rear bumpers across our driveway.
It sure beats what was–or rather, wasn’t–there before. We’d walk on the roadway, even along Silverlake Boulevard, except where there were sidewalks around the dog park and rec center. The worst was Armstrong Avenue. A dirt path ran alongside the DWP property north of the hill, but stopped at the crest. Heading south from there, walkers either crept over a rock outcropping and around a few trees, then negotiated a steep slope down to Silverlake or walked on the street, which is a narrow, two-lanes.
Somehow, no one ever got mowed down, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. I came up over the hill one evening, blind to what was on the other side, and found my lane taken up by a couple pushing a stroller, their dog beside them. I avoid running them over, but wondered if I should call in a report of child endangerment.
What I really wanted to do was post a sign asking walkers to PLEASE cross the street and use the sidewalk on the other side. Knowing that simple request wouldn’t be enough, I planned to add the following: “If you absolutely must walk in the roadway, please leave identifying information with one of the neighbors so that we’ll know where to ship the remains.”
Empty
January 7, 2013 § 1 Comment
What we have here is a Silverlake de/construction mystery.
Long ago, a gas station sat in this space, the sort that looked as if it had once served Model Ts: one small service bay, one deck for pumps, one tiny office, a little bit of pavement. By the time I arrived in the neighborhood, however, the structure was being used as a repair garage with a few used cars for sale on the side. Then the used cars took over and the place became a sales lot. 
And then the building and lot were emptied out, the structure demolished. The lot stayed vacant, long enough for Delancey Street’s Christmas tree lot to become a seasonal fixture.
Two years ago, the pavement was jack-hammered up, someone erected a chain link fence, and Delancey Street was preempted. The occupant of an adjacent building told me someone had told her a four-story building was to be erected in the space.
A four-story building on that little lot? At an intersection flush with commuter traffic racing to the freeway morning and evening? Where fire trucks from the station across the street plunge into traffic, sirens blaring? A building that would tower over every other edifice in the vicinity? At a corner angled so that drivers can’t see pedestrians in the crosswalk?
It seemed improbable and, in fact, other than a bulldozer leveling the ground many months ago, the lot remains empty.
These de/construction projects have a fairy tale quality: unknown figures make decisions about our neighborhood, unseen forces reshape the landscape. And then, one day, POOF! A new building arises, a new business is established, and we all move on.
Except those of us who remember a tiny former gas station where a mechanic fixed cars and sold a few on the side.
Samwise
January 6, 2013 § Leave a comment
This morning at one of the market stalls, all eyes were on a sweet-faced toddler who trailed after his mother as she moved about selecting carrots and onions and potatoes. As the clerk weighed the woman’s purchases, there ensued a conversation that went something like this:
“What’s his name?”
“Samwise.”
“Samwise? Is that a nickname for Samuel?”
“No. ‘Sam’ means ‘hear’ and Samuel means ‘hear God.’ Samwise means ‘listen to wisdom.’ We thought we’d, you know, broaden it a bit.”
I haven’t decided if the name is clever, cute, or annoyingly hip. But then, I have grand-nieces named Daisy and Clover so whom am I to judge?
N.B. Since posting this, I have been reminded that in 1 Samuel 1:20 (JPS) the name Samuel is said to mean, “I asked the Lord [YHWH] for him.” The transliterated Hebrew connected with the name is sha’ul me’el: “asked of God.”
Real in L.A. 