The first thing that I say when I re-enter my home from a day or a night out on the town is, “Home, sweet home, it’s good to be home.”
Since 1996, when my dear friend and mentor, Paul Pascal, passed on, I’ve been privileged to live in the home that he left me as a life estate. The house and all the furniture is old, but comfortable. Much of my time is spent in the kitchenette where I eat, write, pay bills and do artwork. One of the wooden legs on the round, wooden table, has deep ridges in it, made by Paul’s cat, “Meany,” where she used to sharpen her claws. Window ledges where I dine are lined with glass bottles painted with liquid glass, a hobby that I continue to enjoy. Watching the sunlight filter in through the colored glass flowers and other designs, gives a cheerful ambiance. Entering the living room, one sees an old Hazelton Brothers baby grand piano, established in 1849. Many player rolls were left by Paul, which I love to occasionally play. Old-time favorites like “It’s Three O’clock in the Morning, Alexander’s Ragtime Band and other classical pieces like Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, Barcarolle and La Boheme” are stacked in an antique cabinet for easy access. Happiest times are spent when friends stop by to share their musical talents at the piano.
Oriental carpets grace the living room floor in tones of red, tan, indigo and aqua. Entering the room to the left is a large, tooled leather chest of red, black and gold, which stands on carved wooden legs. I’m often asked, “What’s in there? And I jokingly say, “The body.” In it, is the old family Bible and several, large photograph albums of trips taken with my mother when we toured throughout Europe and took cruises to Hawaii, and the Caribbean Islands. When mother could no longer walk so well, she helped assemble two albums of photos and cards that I brought back from trips to Japan and the Yucatan Peninsula.
Next to this chest, is a China cabinet, which displays a set of Cranberry Thumbprint glass dishes, that mother and I enjoyed collecting years ago at Henshey’s Department Store in Santa Monica. We had fun looking for new pieces to add to the set. I sometimes use them on special holidays.
Lining the walls are some of mother’s many oil paintings: There are two seascapes, a landscape and a huge magnolia floral which hangs over the leather couch where I have my cozy corner. Here, I can lean back and prop up my legs to read, write, nap or watch TV. Sometimes when playing “Over the Rainbow” my favorite all- time song, I look at the landscape, as it reminds me of Dorothy’s ‘yellow brick road,’ my favorite all-time movie.

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The back guest bedroom has become more of an office than a place to sleep, but serves both purposes well. Besides the bed and television, there is a computer with printer, fax machine with telephone, desk with typewriter, Xerox machine and two filing cabinets. The corners are cluttered with stacks of papers and projects, which I try to keep organized. Sometimes, the bed serves as a table to work from and the computer chair, a bed, where I doze off unintentionally.

Adjacent to the office/bedroom, is a sunroom with a bed, two comfortable armchairs and a straight back chair with a needlepoint cushion made by my paternal grandmother. Next to the fireplace on the west wall, is a shelf holding books on philosophy and mother’s glazed pottery. On the south wall are shelves holding Paul’s self-published poetry books, which he dictated to me during the five years prior to his demise.
The sunroom leads onto an outdoor porch, divided by a sliding glass door, where a large, round table, four chairs and a comfortable wing chair are often used for meals in the hot summer months. It is cool there with its lattice- covered ivy enclosure and wooden water wheel, which my younger brother George made for me.
The bedroom in where I sleep is off the kitchen and is filled with many of Paul’s rare, out of print books on philosophy and religion – his lifetime collection.
While I do not own this house, I am privileged to live here on a lifetime estate, as long as I wish. I treasure every inch of it and all that it contains.
Behind the house is a hill terraced into three levels and surrounded by tall eucalyptus trees, which make me feel like I am living in a tree house. On the sunniest, uppermost level are rose and vegetable gardens, tended by the gardeners and a volunteer group of young people who work at the Tree People site, an environmental restoration area just up the hill and across the street. I provide the land and water and the volunteers plant and tend fruit trees and vegetables. A contract was drawn up stating that we would share the produce 50/50. My dream is to someday have a large, varied crop of organic vegetables, enough for any meal at any time.
There is a birdbath and several bird feeders around the house, and one on the hill. Birds from other climes are attracted here, especially in the winter. Their morning songs often awaken me. After a rain or heavy precipitation from the trees, I hear them singing the loudest and can smell the wonderful aroma given off by the eucalyptus as it wafts in through the windows.
My paradise on the hill is a comfort zone of peace and beauty. I feel blessed and like a princess in a castle, surrounded by untold treasures.

Copyright © 2008 Mary L. Ports