This morning, I got up before the sunrise to take a photo of a neighbor's Halloween decorations. My hardworking point-and-click no longer takes pictures well at night or very dark settings. Poor guy. Since I was out, I thought I'd wait around for the sun to show itself, so I walked a bit around the neighborhood. But, the sun didn't pop up until I got  home. Oh well. I did see some cool morning sights, including the bird of paradise hiding behind tall grass that look like cat tails. By the way, if you're interested, click here to see the neighbor's Halloween decorations. All Hallow's Eve to you, one and all.

Dear Blogging Friends, This is for you! Hugs with much love, Su- sieee ! Mac

Santa Ana Valley We use the term Xanadu to refer to "an idealized place of great or idyllic magnificence and beauty".  So, today, I'm posting photos of the real paradise where the Husband, the Mama, Molly the Cat, and I live—Hollister, California, our Xanadu. Nearby Southside Road Fairview Road Enterprise Road Garden at the San Benito County Historical Park Monterey Street Sixth Street nearby Versailles Drive Today is the letter X on Alphabe Thursday , which is hosted by the awesome Jenny Matlock. Thanks, Jenny! To participate in the meme or to read what other bloggers have written about the letter X , please click here .

Rattle, rattle, rattle. "Sounds like the Mama is playing with the ladders," said the Husband. We were in our office in the front of the house. Fortunately, we can hear the rattle of ladders through the window. I sighed. Looking away from the computer, I said, "It's time to give her medicine anyway." * * * * * The Mama stood holding onto the fruitless persimmon tree, the six-foot ladder propped on the ground next to her feet. She looked both guiltily and defiantly at me. "What are you doing?" "I need to prune the persimmon tree," she said. "Here, take your medicine," I said, handing her a cup of water and the pill box. "Move away. Let me do it." "I can do it," she said. "Yes, you can. But, I'm doing it," I said, struggling to put the ladder in the narrow space. "Just those two branches shooting straight up," she said. "Not the one with the fruit." Climbing

The last several days have been wonderful for the Husband and me. Yup.  Lots of activity—walking, talking, being with great friends, talking, enjoying relatives, talking, eating yummy food, talking, discovering new places, talking, meeting new people, talking, seeing a high school play, laughing, talking, and much, much more. I'm pooped.

Here's a treat for you and me—a photo of the Mama's vegetable garden in the late 1990s. I'd say this is probably late February or early March. Are you as surprised as I am how few fruit trees and flower bushes were back there? The Miracle Tree, by the shed on the right, was spindly. And, the apple tree way in the corner wasn't visible. Only the lemon tree, on the left, was going strong. The Mama's vegetable garden was much bigger back then.  She was in her mid-70s. A youngster. Here's how her garden looked this morning.  It's smaller and much of it is not visible. The lemon tree is hidden behind the apple and avocado trees. You still can't see the apple tree in the corner, which is now very tall, because of everything else. I can hardly wait to show the Mama the photos.

I don't care what the movie reviewers say, I like Rock the Kasbah , the latest Bill Murray film. One reviewer, who began his review by saying how much he liked Murray, panned the movie because Murray was in nearly every scene. Hello. Murray was the main character. The story was about his journey. Duh? Maybe some reviewers couldn't handle Kate Hudson's character, Merci, a sultry, golden-hearted prostitute, in love with Bill Murray's character, Rich, an older, down-on-his-luck music promoter. Why not? The pairing reminded me of Goldie Hawn and Walter Matthau in Cactus Flower . Matthau's craggy look was quite handsome in my eyes. Perhaps the reviewers couldn't believe the story taking place in Afghanistan. That it was really quite a stretch to have Murray play someone who was able to persuade an Afghan American Idol -like show to let a young woman from a small remote village sing on national television. Or, maybe the reviewers felt it was too unbelievable f