As the guys tackle the inside of my latest renovation project, I'm wrestling with the outside. Exhibit A: the weedy, seedy side yard, dominated by an enormous concrete slab in its death throes. (And cleverly accessorized with a toilet, a ficus, and a Weber.) (I know, it's a gift.)

Since removing (to say nothing of replacing, even with something less expensive, like flagstone) the concrete would bust the budget, it was time to get creative. And here, with some scrubbing, measuring, taping and staining, the old slab got a new look.

Before:

After:

The color will calm down after a few weeks of sun and footsteps, and with patio furniture and a few outdoor rugs (that will be the after, with pix tk) the faux tile will look, if not completely convincing, at least somewhat persuasive.

A little slide show of the process is right here.

Foggy today:

And a little cold.

Low tide means kelp rides higher:

And a Tiny Labrador waits for the ball.

A lazy Sunday morning for this egret at the lake, taking in the view from his table-top perch.

A lovely swath of oak-studded rolling hills for sale.

Who thinks this is a good idea?

Hello?

Hello!

Blue sea + blue sky = Oooooh. (And ahhhhh.)

In the mountains we found this flower, tiny and tinder-dry:

And a few minutes away, drunk on garden water, irises.

There's a gravitational field around these oaks, hundreds of years old, their vast canopies made of thousands of tiny, spiny leaves.

Sound moves differently here. So does time. It's all lower, slower. Cooler, too. A minute ago, a century ago, it's all the same under the oaks, under these oaks.

Because the photos of the "during" phase of this newest remodel seem to have some of you in a dither, let's revisit the before, the holes in the sub-floor:

The freaky brown paneling:

The toilet in the bedroom:

And now look, just two weeks later -- recessed lighting? Check. Floors all fixed and ready for hardwood? Check. Walls mudded and primed and ready for paint? Check.

Night and day? Check.

Because right now it's all about this:

And this:

And, lord help us, this:

Let us look back, just one short week ago, and remember the transformation of this:

Into this.

The rest of the before-and-after slide show (click on a photo, then click through the series) is here.

If you remember the abandoned car belonging to DianaLA, then you might be interested to know it has now been joined by this ramshackle boat.

A Sea Ray:

And the view from where they sit? Well, you be the judge:

Let's take a walk on the sand, shall we? (And let's admit right now, these are just snapshots, not photographs.)

Lavender on the beach path:

The creek as it meets the sea:

Where some bachelor ducks took flight the moment they saw us.

A sailor was sleeping:

A wave was breaking:

And the beach, as it has for a thousand years, was waiting.

Walking at the lake the other day when splash!...a pair of ducks launched from the shore into the water, followed by thirteen more splashes, tiny ones, (splishes?) as the brand new family went for it's first outing.

The ducklings, bobbing like manic bathtub toys, promptly spread out in thirteen different directions.

Counting them was challenge enough -- getting them all into a single frame proved impossible.

Makes the whole remodel thing seem easy by comparison.

It's all about sex in the spring, whether it's birds or plants or mammals. Here on a Malibu bluff is a yucca, barely blooming on April 1:

...and barely two weeks later, ready for prom.

For years I've been driving past this former ranch high up in the hills:

...where a little boat:

...sails a grassy sea:

To the question of why posts are going up later and later -- the answer is this:

Because no matter how many times I've done this, and no matter how many lists I make, there's always one more thing I need for the part of the remodel that's happening right now.

So join me, won't you, on another Big Box adventure, driving home this time, again through coastal California in its (mostly) raw form.

Pretend you've got the window open and aong with the brine of the sea, there's sage and campfire smoke and (this one's purely in your imagination) sun-warmed skin touched with Coppertone.

Our neighbor's wind vane, a one-legged egret who faces into whichever breeze happens to be blowing. (And I just noticed -- a little sparrow on the E, taking a break.)

Yes, you could take the 101 north and get there faster, or take the 101 south and get to one that's closer, or you could take PCH north of Malibu, and have yet another drive to a Big Box store be the highlight of your day.

Let's play!

Isn't the LA light today amazing? At the beach it skids through mist, through wind-whipped waves, and a briney scent, a summer scent, rises.

When a picture is worth a thousand words.

(And represents more than a few 3 a.m. panic attacks.)

The beginning of the after -- aka hurryhurryhurryupPLEASEhurry "during".

If your first thought upon seeing this swath of land on a bluff above the Pacific is "Hey! Let's turn it into a bunch of ball parks!" then a few on the local City Council want to hear from you. And if the idea of turning the sole remaining undeveloped bit of coastal open space in the city into yet another human habitat seems, well, criminal, then you've also got company.

Lots of news stories from both sides of the equation (hyper-local papers only, no LA Times or national outlets yet) are here.

It's quite the brouhaha, with a proposed land swap between the city of Malibu and the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy (Malibu's Charmlee Park in exchange for the SMMC's Bluffs Park) and, in the process of cutting that deal, the city being accused of violating the Brown Act.

This thing isn't going away anytime soon.

So, we've had a bit of a swell this weekend:

Which means the boards were out:

And the dolphins:

And pelicans:

And your faithful photog:

Sigh.

My friend (and brilliant author) Antoine Wilson (seriously, when is someone going to wake up and option Panorama City, Robert Downey Jr??) has the funny Tumblr, The Slow Paparazzo. Here, by contrast, we see The Shy Paparazzo.

Enough of a fan of Friday Night Lights and Breaking Bad to know the name on a NM to LAX flight:

And way too reserved for anything but a blurry, long-lens shot of Landry (wwrd) Clark's back.

Make that The Really Shy Paparazzo.

Because it's grey today -- flowers.

Pink:

And more pink:

Purple (and not exactly in focus):

A little mix, purple and orange, focused and not:

And white.

Dear customers of Petals in New Mexico:

You'll have to wait just a teensy little bit longer for your (beautiful and creative) flower deliveries.

Sincerely,

The Management

* UPDATE: The swings are gone.

If you're a pelican watcher, you know this moment, a tiny shift of wings that signals the stall, the change from forward flight:

...to free fall:

...and, thanks to air sacs beneath his skin, bounce-back and recovery.

(AND, if his aim was true, fresh fish for breakfast.)

If I show you this:

And this:

And this:

...I bet you nod and say, "Of course," (or, alternatively, go pale and question a certain blogger's sanity) (which, quite honestly, is what more than a few of the sub-contractors I got bids from did) (but that's another blog post entirely) that there hasn't been quite as much of this:

Clouds. Mist. Occasional sun.

I've just used up my word limit for the day. Sorr