A-Huntington We Will Go

That was such a terrible terrible terrible pun in that title that I actually have the impulse to kill something. I apologize to the fullest extent possible.

In any case. On Sunday, Ben and I went to the Huntington Gardens, and searched for an hour and a half for the Shakespeare Garden, in the process, passing it about fifteen times. A few more entertaining ancedotes. . .And I'm writing this as if I were writing a novel.

The bamboo was high and cool, and Kat and Ben were glad to be in the shade for once, after the blazing heat. After a few moments of walking, Kat stopped and stared at a sign. The sign essentially said, in no uncertain terms, "Do not write on the bamboo." Ben stopped to see what she was looking at, laughed, and pointed at the bamboo all around them. It had been scribbled on more than anything. The two exchanged strange confused looks, and moved on. . .

The path was too thin for them to walk side by side any longer. Ben, being Ben, stopped walking to allow Kat to continue. Kat stopped too. They glared hotly at each other for about two minutes before Kat broke down and went ahead. Ben chuckled, pleased, and trotted along. . .

The Huntington library was dark and quiet. Sane Personage, Kat, and Ben, bent over the exhibit of an old Gutenberg bible, one of the first printed. Kat suddenly burst out laughing and pointed to a text. Ben looked and laughed as well. "Forty two line Bible. . ." said the exhibit sign. . .

Inside the Huntington Mansion, Kat lingered by a bookcase, attracted as always, to old books. Ben glanced over her shoulder, and they exchanged odd looks. The title of the book within was "The History of Antiquity." It was in several volumes. . .

This may give you some idea of what went on all day. Thanks, Ben, for a great time.

That was way too short.

More later.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.