Summer. It’s over in a minute so enjoy it while you can.
Two days of sunshine and a great deal of moolah...Let the games begin!!!
First breakfast outside!!! YUM!
June is bursting out all over... East Hampton. From the rose garden.
Bette Midler had a rose named for her recently, The Divine Miss M. She announced it at an event for New York Restoration Project, her charity, last night. She is a great citizen and I wish she could take charge of everything.
On the way to East Hampton we stopped for gas. That was a big mistake. Clearly, I had a Death Wish.
My dad came from a family of Swedish dairy farmers who settled in the Midwest. He went to Northwestern University with the intention of studying medicine then changed his mind and went into Vaudeville. He became a star on radio as a ventriloquist. That’s right. A ventriloquist on radio. You had to take it on faith. His character was named Charlie McCarthy and in the 40’s he was an American icon. He travelled for work but when he was home, he’d take me fishing, breakfast rides on horseback. All of this in his twin engine airplane which he flew...usually well enough. It had a logo of Charlie on the side. He warned me of the risks of beauty and told me to pursue my other interests in writing and photography. He kept his emotions close to the vest —he was Swedish, after all —but I loved him very much and always knew he loved me.
Father’s Day Brunch.
Instagramming the frittata
The Second Bergenbag of Father’s Day Weekend.
And it’s a two-bag day here at Bergenbags. Yep. Bergenbags. We never sleep.
These stupid pancakes took me all afternoon to paint. The butter pat alone took 20 minutes! Grrrrr.
Another Women of Book Club Reunion- this time at Ms Keaton’s astounding house which Jane had to bully her into. Diane put on a lovely dinner and we were dazzled by the genius of her home.
More LA normal.
Santa Monica on a normal day. I’m taking a hiatus from photographing people. Too volatile.
Oddly reassuring to see LA has resumed its old weather patterns. Even the dreaded June Gloom.
We’re getting ready for a hike!!
Gucci sneakers for when you wanna shine!!
Shoe Sale at Neiman’s, Beverly Hills. Always great theater. I think this very pretty woman is famous but I’m too polite to ask.
After sea lions, I get peonies!!! World’s most difficult flower!!!
This is still so stirring...
Plaster cast of her ear.
Again after being photoshopped by D Blasberg
Give me your tired...
And what I did not purchase at the Oddities auction at Doyle. But wanted to.
Bought this banner- which is the size of a wall - at the Oddities auction at Doyle NYC- for my barn to be.
I have always loved sea otters until today when I had to paint one. He is holding a crab—not that you could tell. He looks like a lost Wookie fighting a Muppet. It’s taken me all afternoon. To the person it’s going to...I’m sorry. I did my best.
Or not...we are grateful to have had our reunion shows and very proud of their quality. It was a totally joyous work experience in our old Murphy Brown family. As for me, I am back to bagging. Bergenbags.....we never sleep. Unless there’s Xanax.
Black tie and brocade for toddlers. The Land of opportunity.
The dregs of my birthday dinner at TAK in Hudson Yards. Yum.
The Vessel . Focal Point if the new Hudson Yards. It’s basically a jungle gym for grown-ups.
1967 cover of Vogue by Bert Stern. With forty hairpieces.
Birthday bouquet from my extravagant brother.
And another one bites the dust...Bergenbags...serving America since 2016.
I don’t just do dogs, ya know.
And this is free!!!
Spring has sprung. You don’t get this in California. Seasons. P.S. okay. I knew I was on thin ice with California not having seasons. I meant LA specifically and that’s where I go to escape the NY winters!!
This is the last one I promise. The poodle hair is very labor intensive. If you knew who it was for, you’d plotz.
Bergenbags. The Breakfast Room. The room where it happens!! Or not.
Bergenbags...cooking with...electricity?? A work in progress. Living up to our motto, WE NEVER SLEEP. Except when we’re working.
Diane English. Creator of Murphy Brown. Pal of pals. Fellow flier.
I need to go back to work.
Breakfast with the NYTimes and Sinatra. Blueberries from a friend’s farm who clearly has more than he knows what to do with.
These are the brains of birds I’ve been dissecting. KIDDING!!!! It’s old, chewed bubble gun.
I seem to have fallen off the wagon....
Home where the plants aren’t trying to kill me.
This is me in the Bod Pod which measures muscle mass and body fat. I have lost one pound. In five days. At these rates, it is the most expensive pound in recorded history.
This is the Ropes’ Course. This is a No Fly Zone for me, an almost 73 year old with fake hips. The only place I’ll be flying today is home.