The last Wine Walk

The last Wine Walk of the year was tonight. First we went to John's for dinner -- the usual scramble with the buffet, trying to choose things the babies would like, tossing them bits of this and that (like feeding animals at the zoo). Then at 6:30 pm we pushed the stroller down Ridgecrest Boulevard to the stores that were participating in the Wine Walk. However, we never actually drank any wine. We just wandered up and down the streets, listened to the music, went into a few stores, bought a few things, but never a wine glass. Obviously we do not understand the point of the Wine Walk (which is to drink as much wine as possible, all for the $5 you pay for the wine glass). It was warm, but not oppressively so, and by 7 pm it was dark. Very pleasant. Almost (but not quite) like being in Boulder.

One of the stores we browsed was Red Rock Books. I checked the adult fiction and children's books, bought a Halloween board book (as if we need more board books). As I looked through the adult books, I realized there's very little I'm looking for these days. In the old days I always had several authors with whom I was obsessed; now, not so much. I'm sure they're out there, my future obsessions, at least I hope they are.

My sole current craze is the Sherlock Holmes mysteries of Laurie R. King, in which the aging Holmes marries a young woman named Mary Russell who becomes his partner in detection. I have read 6 of these, just started the 7th, and am depressed about the fact that there are only 2 more after that, plus another coming out in 2010. As mysteries, these books are just so-so. Their charm is in the portrayal of the relationship between Holmes and Russell. While escaping into them, I have fallen in lust with Sherlock Holmes again. I remember how I adored Jeremy Brett in the PBS version of the Sherlock Holmes stories in the 80s/90s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeremy_Brett). From the Wikipedia entry, it is interesting to note that playing Sherlock Holmes basically destroyed Jeremy Brett, the heartlessness of the character. How nice it would have been if he could have lived long enough to play the Sherlock Holmes who falls in love with Mary Russell.

I suppose I should be looking for some great author who writes about the desert. At the Wine Walk we ran into one of Rocket Boy's coworkers. He asked how we were liking Ridgecrest and made some comment about whether we were going to be among "the people who adjust or the people who leave."

"The people who leave" I whispered to RB as we walked on.

We came home and found a sun spider in the kitchen (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sun_spider).