Taking your daughter to a tattoo parlor in the Mission District to have her ears pierced. Listening as a baroquely tattooed and pierced gentlemen explains to her how much safer and and more sanitary it is to be pierced by a hollow needle than by a gun. [Cancer intrusion! Sounds a bit like a core needle biopsy, but never mind.] Being impressed by how respectful he is of her as he explains how she should clean her ears. Being glad that he’s a good sport when I ask to take a picture:
Figuring out that the cat has not rejected his comfy wicker kitty basket, he just wants to have it under the glass coffee table in our temporary pad.
Looking out at lovely views when I have to be still. Pondering how we have managed to have just about the most New York-y apartment you could find in San Francisco.
Having tortas for brunch on a Saturday morning. There’s real Mexican food here!
Admiring crazy, flashing religious art after brunch:
Spending the weekend sitting and advising others how to muck out the floor that we’re turning back into living space. It was a Tom Sawyer weekend for sure.