I spent last week in San Francisco:
Sunshine and a view of the bay every morning. Striding up hills through pine trees - I miss that smell - to emerge at the top of the world. Sand in my hair. Olives and rose (accent acute) under THE bridge. Cafes and more cafes(more accenting). A pirate shop with real glass eyes and a literacy tutoring mandate. Banjos in the park. A mad dash to the Cliff House and an almost perfect sunset. Micro-brewed bitter. Domesticity. The Sunday New York Times. Naps. Drag queens and 11 am beers. Smelly bus people. Dancing in the kitchen. Sorting out our lives while sitting on a rooftop overlooking the skyline. Laughing at cliches (last damn invisible accent). Five old cinemas on Mission St, now used as warehouse shops.Corned Beef Hash.