I can't even imagine how beautiful the sky would be if we didn't have light pollution. I had that "wow" moment tonight, just now, after the Golden Globes, on the hillside, the dark ridges of the canyons sparkling with the lights from the inside of the houses. And then the midnight blue sky full of stars and the mottledness of the milky way -- you can see it today because it's so clear and wind-blown. I carry one of those huge maglight flashlights, the kind policemen carry, and fantasize about knocking out a stranger with the force of it, and hoping my arms won't go to jelly like they do in dreams. Not that a stranger is likely to attack me on a hillside in Laurel Canyon, under the stars, when the two harmonizing owls are hooting at each other in perfect dialogue. Not when "Argo" and "Les Miserables" just won the two best picture categories, and Julianne more wore that perfect black and white dress and Bill Clinton is up there schilling for "Lincoln."
There were four dogs here tonight: two Spotteds and two Frenchies. Minky made an apple pie, a beautiful latticed apple pie, and we made fried chicken in Crisco, the way they do in "The Help" full of buttermilk and paprika. And there was potato salad and green beans in vinaigrette -- a proper picnic.
I think we were celebrating. Earlier today Freddie and his girl, Lucy won a 3rd and an 8th at their first ever horse show (IEL) and Wilder and I watched and cheered and whooped.
It is a good day.