Working Like a Dog

I've been sitting at my desk most of the day working on my teen mystery novel. I just passed the halfway point of the first draft and I'm really chugging now. As I paused for a moment to refresh my coffee, I looked over to Mel, who looked like this:


It's hard to be a dog sometimes.

I also started a new batch of bread, but I'll get more into that later. Suffice it to say that yesterday I purchased a pizza stone, wooden peel, organic stone ground flour (which, by the way, I had to go to Nature Mart to get - the crunchiest of all the local health food stores, and I live in LA, so you can imagine how crunchy it must be) and multiple thermometers, one of which I've already managed to misplace.

So as I was writing this post, Mel came up and did her tail wag hesitant bark to get my attention and play with her. We went for a walk around the block and I happened to have my camera along so I shot a couple of the Victorians that I like.


Though I could never imagine myself living in something so fussy, I respect that these Victorians go all out. It's like they're saying, yeah, we're Victorians, don't mess with us because we've got dollies and we're not afraid to use them.


You gotta love the gold trim.

And then my absolute favorite part of the neighborhood which is the door into the...Underground tunnel?


It's hard to say what this goes to. On top of the retaining wall is a big lawn that goes for at least 150 or 200 feet before it hits the house. Is it a bomb shelter? Escape route? It is a huge house that, while most likely old, is not the same Queen Anne's style as the others. I like to imagine it was for bringing in the master of the house's mistresses, but back then this door was better concealed behind a thick wall of ivy. Who knows, but I like it.