I fell two-sidedly in love on sight with George 33 years ago. Over the next few hours a party sprang up around us but we were stuck side by side, with so much energy shooting out the top of our heads that folks kept coming up to us, to see what we were talking about so urgently.
They'd stand beside us, peering in, looking for a double dutch entrance to the conversation that felt so exciting, so sexy, so heated, and finally threw up their hands and left, one by one, exclaiming that they had no idea what language we were speaking, let alone what the fuck we were saying.
My life has never been the same. George and I met on an island, and moved to 3 others before he died in my arms 10 years later. His son, Bruce, is the one who built me my glorious castle, here in the desert. And I'm clambering to meet Bruce's new son, my grandson, Sonny Jackson, in San Francisco within the month, after spending Thanksgiving in LA with my huge family. For the most part I haven't seen them since my mother died, over 3 years ago, which is crazy, because we used to all get together all the time.
But right now it's beginning to seem like Cora Belle's sitter may be falling through, and I don't have any back up. So if anyone knows anyone who knows anyone who could stay in a castle with the sweetest dog in the world for about 2 weeks, receiving $20 a day -- please let me know, the sooner the better.