Visit the kelpforest....

Dad went and listed my grandmother's house in Whittier with a realtor today. This is wrenching to me; the old house where I spent several weeks of each childhood summer is going to be sold. I wish I could afford it, but it's really too small as it is. Plus summers up there are hot. But what a view. It's partially obscured by taller buildings now, but I remember so many summer evenings looking out over the city lights south to Long Beach and Buena Park. You could see the parachute tower at Knott's if you looked closely; with a pair of biniculars you could pick out various other landmarks. Palos Verdes loomed, sparkling in the evening air, to the southwest. My grandmother had a tiny fenced backyard where she trained dahlias and roses on the fence. She could make almost anything grow. A tree shadowed half of the grass; sometimes we'd lie on our backs looking up at the planes heading for LAX. The planters were lined with odd rocks and abalone shells my father had caught as a young man. There were fruit trees lining the brick parking area in front of the garage, and beside the garage she grew tomatoes every year.

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