Oh, Happy Day

It was one of those happy days. KiKi was happy (and THAT was the most important part of the day) when I spoke with him at 6.45AM. Douglas and Henry had returned from South Africa the day before and THEY were happy. Boris had just sold one of his condos that day and HE was happy.

So, when I walked out in the morning I was struck by how well the back yard had reconstructed itself after being devasted by Wilma.

Terry and I had planted all of this and, once again, life had returned to the back yard.

Jeremy called at 1.05 PM and asked where I was and I called a cab right away. Sometimes I feel like Elizabeth Taylor in a trashy movie as I fight my way through the jungle to get to the waiting cab. It is a happy thought.

Tiffany had obviously discovered the slimming nature of vertical stripes today.

And when I showed this image to a customer in the other bar, he said, "Wow, that looks like a rollercoaster ride." And I replied, "Yes, one many have been thrown from."


Geraldine, though, looked the most radiant and happy of all. Sure of herself, confidant of her style, and--most of all--knowing WE were happy with her. As always, she drove the audience into a frenzy.