Caldelle is, apparently, the major source for leather hides. It was probably the singularly weirdist shopping trip that I've ever been on. Drive into an industrial zone in the midst of a high-fashion shopping district. Park in an old parking lot in front of a brick building (an unheard of medium these days in Los Angeles because of earthquake danger), and try the front door. It's locked, of course, and since I saw no other entrance, I whipped out my cell phone and gave them a call. "Hector" came to my rescue, letting me in, and pointing out the bell that I missed right in front of my nose.
This is a wholesale operation, requiring a resale license. Not a problem. Hector led me into the "shopping zone," a warehouse lined from wall to wall with floor-to-ceiling metal bins filled with leather "skeins," as Hector told me (skins) from which to choose. I was looking for metallic; apparently metallic leather is made that way in a process something akin to gold leafing furniture. I had to stick with smaller animals... cow hides were too big for my purpose and need.
It was weird to be shopping there. Every one of those pieces of leather had been a living creature at one point. It's funny; I'm not a vegetarian and I do wear and use leather products, and although I fully admit that my stance might be different if I had to find my own meat sources, I don't give it much thought. But a brief flash of despair for the lives lost ran through me, and then I returned to normal and got down to business.
I selected a couple of gorgeous pieces of leather, paid for them, and am astounded that something like this place should exist in the heart of Los Angeles. Once I got home, I took a nap, changed for exercise class, and off to Slimmons I went.
Richard has been on the road for the last couple of days, so Anne taught. I worry about her classes as she works at a much higher level than I am capable of (she's a true hard-body), but I did ok. Except for the part where my last bra was done. And I mean done. Girls, you know what I'm talking about. When the last bit of elasticity goes out of the old chest-strap? I knew that I was going to have to make a trip to Nordstrom's (the best bra source in the world, with qualified people to fit us) and quickly.
But it was not to be this morning. I was scheduled to run "Aunt Laura Camp" with Ian. Daddy brought him over at 10:30 am, we were quickly off to go to the planned destinations of the day. First stop: Discount Pottery in Reseda.
This is a very unusual store. Although they advertise pots, they have several immense showrooms, filled to the brim with fountains. Working fountains. Hundreds of them side-by-side filling the entire room. Ian was transfixed. I doubt he's ever seen so much running water at one time. And the pressing matter at hand was whether I would let him run his fingers through the water and underneath the spouts. "Of course," I assured him. "As long as you wash your hands after we're done."
After about an hour, we were done, having bought a few 'on sale' pots for my herbs and even getting an extra one because it was so darned cheap. We came home, washed our hands, and then off to Carrows. We had business at hand. Ian wanted Garlic Bread and a Malted Milk Ball Sundae, their specialty.
Lunch finished, we were off to the Nursery to buy potting soil. And one herb - a Mabel Gray Geranium - to fill the extra pot that I had taken home. Ian was incredibly intrigued when I showed him how you can rub the leaves of herbs and they will leave a scent in your hand. But after about 10 minutes of it, he was ready to go, so we paid for what we needed and were about to leave. But there was one question. Ian wanted to know what I was going to name my Geranium.
Now, it has never occurred to me to name plants before, so after I suggested "Ian," which Ian rejected, explaining that it was "already taken," I asked him what he thought it should be called. "Malcom." he replied. Apparently for Malcom In the Middle. So "Malcom, the Geranium" it is.
Back home, the imperative became playing with my dogs. Poor Cosmos and Sunny! Ian kept them awake and moving for two hours in a row! No sleep? That is not how dogs operate! Cosmos was dressed in hats, Sunny brushed and teased with toys. And then Daddy came to take Ian home.
A quick dinner, and it was time to deal with the bra issue.
One of the main disappointments that I've had since losing so much weight is that I am still a DDD. Shopping for clothing is hard, shopping for bras is generally excruciating. I had a lovely sales woman who kept bringing me bra after bra after bra to try. After trying no less than 15 of them, I finally found the one. THE one. And, it turns out, it comes in many colors. I got three. As the color queen, I'm in heaven.
So now I'm at home again. It's time for the last shot in this series. Hopefully, I'll sleep through the worst of the side effects. I need to prepare the cord for the next piece of jewelry that I am scheduled to make. And then I am going to join my dogs. Who are already in our bed. Asleep. Where I would like to be right now.
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