homesitting

i've been house-sitting for two weeks. the first week was at s.'s little railroad flat. her house smells like creosote & she has very simple neutral colored mid-century furniture, & karl blossfeldt prints. there are baby cacti & succulents, & very organized collections of rusted nails & river rocks, dried up baby lizards in a pouch, shells & she keeps a jar of her cat's nail clippings, which are translucent & look like little bits of mother-of-pearl. i think she plans to make an art piece with some of her findings... her cat enid cries for food often & has the loudest motorboat puuuuurrrrrrr.

this week i am at n. & j.'s house. the house is a grown-up's space-- a beautiful old barrio house. they have good taste & everything is organized & all the furniture seems well-selected (unlike my own thrift shop mish mash). & there is a clawfoot tub with a spa shower head that rests like rotary telephone on a pronged pedestal so when i'm sitting in the bath & feeling particularly silly i'll go ringringhello? & hold it up to my ear. when i'm alone.
this is funny: j. is a musician in a well known band (calexico) & yet the only source for music in the house that i can find is a small cd player/boom box that looks like the one i had when i was 11. & there are so so many records. & no turntable. mysterious. the pets are sweet. ida the dog looks like a dingo & likes to eat carrots. the cats, although somewhat aloof, are charming, perched in the window sills for the whole day, keeping guard.