Word of the Day

A pneumothorax (pl. pneumothoraces) is an abnormal collection of air or gas in the pleural space that separates the lung from the chest wall and which may interfere with normal breathing.

Not a particularly happy word. The happy part is that the pneumothorax,  in the lung of the man who loves me, is small. It should heal itself, the doctor says. Meanwhile, he's pretty much confined to his hospital bed. I have confined myself to my bed in solidarity.

And doesn't the Glendale train station look stunning at night?

I confess: I'm fickle

The Glendale train station is an architectural gem

Cheating on the freeway system that I professed my love for yesterday, I took the train to see the man who loves me this morning. I awoke at 3:30 a.m. (and yes, that's when he awoke, too, I learned) and couldn't get back to sleep. Brimming with worry, I decided I would leave my mom home alone for a few hours and pay a visit to the hospital.

More train station architecture

So I trained past green fields and fallow fields.

Suburbs where horses reigned,

Orchards....

Barren rocks...

The weird temporary plastic green houses sheltering some crop or another that you see around here,

and strawberry fields...forever

Back to this.

Early this evening, I learned that the man who loves me was finally moved out of the critical care unit.

Dear Ozzie,

Your bed is ready.

Love, Harriet