Vinyl and Glass

we stumble upon everything.
the best restaurants,
the sunday farmer's market...
and today,
the once a year flea market that wraps around the perimeter of alamo square.

i bought bobby pins with old buttons glued on the ends.
our visiting friend, heather, bought old pictures in even older frames
and then, we found something we've been searching for for months.

a portable/ all in one record player.
an old 70's audiotronics classroom model.
we played the kinks, and van morrison, and bob marley, and muddy waters.
it was the sound we were missing in our little haven.

the crackling, organic sound of music.
there is something so visceral about it.
I caught Brent and the pups resting for a moment
and grabbed the camera to capture it.
I think Brent has had it up to here with my "videoing"



Earlier this week we visited the Chihuly exhibit at the De Young museum.
It was one of the most beautiful collections I've ever had the pleasure
of experiencing.
Absolutely magical.
A literal interpretation of Fantasia.

Here are a few of our pictures:

Right on Baker, Left on Grove.

Last week as we walked home from the grocery store
with canvas bags full of groceries slung over our shoulders.
I realized that in a collection of only forty odd days
we have been reshaped into new beings.

In the morning we rise and throw back the lace curtain
to see if our eyes opened before the restaurant across the street flipped
the sign in the window to {Open| Abierto}.

We wait for the elderly lady with the gray poodle to walk by
and we always nod and smile as she tells us the same story every time
about how that little dogs helps her get exercise despite her arthritis.

we think of as many similes as our brains can concoct
to describe the way the fog rolls in off the ocean.
like a quilt over the city streets, like the thick froth of my morning coffee.

we read the paper. and carry cash in our pockets because
every little hole in the wall restaurant here requires it.
We buy fresh flowers every Sunday
and save glass bottles to use as vases.

We have become accustomed to the sounds of living.
To the slamming of truck doors and the whirl of the street sweepers.
The metal ching ching of the zero emission buses connected to the wires above
and when someone starts yelling on the sidewalk, at nothing and everyone,
just because they can,
we rarely look up anymore.

This change....
it is such a dynamic and curious transformation.
The things happening to us.
Bound by the knowledge that brought us this far
and at the same time,
Affected to the core by this new impetus and
ten fingers full of unfamiliar experiences.

I like the way it smells at the very top of the park.
I miss my best friend.
I've never eaten so many peaches in my life.
I don't miss driving a car at all.

~M

things to share.

I wanted to post a picture of the yellow rose on our window sill.
Everything about this picture speaks to me.
The rose was taken from the unruly rose bush that covers the front of our building.
Everyday new roses in white and yellow and occasionally pink,
burst forth to greet me as I return from grocery shopping or a walk with the dogs.
They are a hopelessly joyful addition to my daily routine,
and occasionally, when there are plenty of them blooming,
I'll snag one to bring inside the house.




Another picture I thought I'd share,
Brent and I took our scooter (that I've named "Scootie Blue")
up to the highest view in the city, Twin Peaks.
It's a nice drive from our house, a curving, hilly climb
through residential neighborhoods.
We passed little corner grocery stores, flower shops and cafes.
When we reached the last climb to the top,
I was giggling the whole time and chanting "go, scootie, go"
because we have a really small scooter and it was chugging as best as it could
to get both of us up the hill.
The wind is incredible at the top. It feels almost as if it could lift you up in the air.
In this picture you can see one long strip of road right where my head is...
that is Market St, the lifeline street of San Francisco.



Love to all of you!
Melissa

Brent Cooks Dinner!

So Brent took it upon himself to whip something up for dinner last week,
and he looked so cute in there stirring a pot that I had to document.

For your viewing pleasure, Chef Jordan makes dinner:

Did you know that a plum/apricot hybrid is called a pluot?

Today on the way back from our morning walk with the dogs, we noticed that a street a block over from ours was closed.

"hmmm, must be road work" Brent said.

But I saw tents set up, and so I convinced him to be nosey with me. We turned around and walk down there and sure enough, they had set up a little farmers market. Apparently it happens every Sunday from here until September.

These are the sorts of moments that I love the most. Discovering something new and unexpected right in my own little corner of the city. Everyone in our neighborhood was there with their children and dogs. I just love the communal nature of the people here! We even have a little community newspaper called "The Western Edition" that is specifically focused on the interest of the people in the 2 square mile radius around us.

I started down the rows of vendors and filled my arms with plums and apricots and organic strawberries (which by the way are smaller than normal strawberries but TWICE as flavorful!) We bought new redskin potatoes and two bouquets of flowers for the house.

I came home and made beautiful little bouquets and put them in glass bottles all over the house. I can't stop munching on all this delicious fruit! I've been missing the great Raleigh Farmer's Market so much, and our little discovery today was just what I needed.

M

This is why I love the city

So this guy passed through our neighborhood on his journey to the golden gate. I'm just bummed we didn't get the opportunity to help him along the way. Too funny.


Click Here

Things I have learned since moving to San Francisco:

1. "Just over the hill" is not neccesarily the same sort of "hills" we're accustomed to in the south. I think a few of the hills I've walked up in this city could qualify as mountains along the blue ridge parkway.

2. Don't make eye contact with people on the bus. seriously, don't do it. It's not like in the south where you can smile and someone will smile back and then you just ride in peace together. Ohhhh nooo... here, if you make eye contact with someone, it's an open invitation for them to start telling you about the alien that abducted them from the park or that they're trying to become enlightened enough to write a new chapter of the bible. just put your ear phones in and look out the window.

3. Do not go anywhere ANYWHERE near a tourist attraction on a holiday. And I thought Wilmington was bad on memorial weekend. I've never seen a sea of people like the pack of folks who swarmed us when we made the oh so dumb decision to check out the fisherman's wharf on July 4th.

4. Walk! Living here has made me realized that there were so many places we could have walked to in Raleigh... but due to laziness and convenience, we always drove. I have seen such a change in myself in only two weeks... we walk everywhere, and it feels so good. Plus I notice things I would otherwise overlook like silly names written in the concrete and interesting posters people staple to the board outside the burrito shop.

5. Dogs fall in love with places too. I thought our dogs would be happy anywhere, as long as they were with us. I realized this week, sitting at the top of Buena Vista Park with the dogs that Gibson and Bailey are just as smitten with this place as we are. Bailey was laying in the grass, just sprawled out and happy as a claim, and Gibson had this giant smile on his face... ear to furry ear...