I'm waiting for the beautiful face mask I ordered from Lola. But this will certainly do until that arrives.
There are many stairway walks in San Francisco. I found myself at the bottom of Vulcan Steps yesterday, which is a very nice place to find oneself. I hadn't done the Springtime walk on the steps in years. The last time, there was a youngish man tending the roses. He told me they were his mother's, who lived in Alabama. She had recently died and
he had dug up all her beautiful rose bushes and driven them across country. But he was very concerned because it's harder to grow roses here than in Alabama because of the famous San Francisco fog. I'm here to tell you Mom's roses are flourishing. (I confess I don't remember if it was actually Alabama, but it was somewhere far away. And Alabama seems very exotic and rose-friendly to me.)
Do you assume the youngish man was gay? I did. It's just inconceivable to me that a heterosexual man would dig up his deceased mother's roses, drive them from Alabama (or wherever) to San Francisco, plant them in his front yard and fuss over them. Isn't that sad? I mean, for straight men.
As you can see, the pups have gotten tangled up with each other. Their leashes are tied together. They were just standing there quietly, Nikki draped over Loulou's back, waiting for me to notice their immobility.
Gee, I wish I had a pin on me to stick in! Darn. Obviously, the neighbors were participating.
The meadow is dedicated to Bill Kraus, a beloved gay activist, who died of AIDS. This is his memorial bench.
I would very much like to have a bench in my memory somewhere in San Francisco. I want it to say, "I had a lot of fun and did some good." Then my name and dates. Then "Nobody knows the future."
I do greatly admire both these signs, but I can't help but wonder why the human has such a pointy butt.
And then it was on to Corona Heights. There was a big sign saying the dog park was closed, so everyone congregated in the meadow next to it. People were keeping their social distance. Some were masked. It was only in the paper that day that masks were required.
I realized that nobody knows the future when the Soviet Union fell apart. Here the U.S. government had all these highly paid people studying the USSR -- they were called Kremlinologists -- and NOT ONE of them had ANY IDEA it was going to happen!
And here's me in the backyard, having a little treat of strong coffee and a spinach and cheese croissant I bought on the way back. Yummm!
And now it's over the hill and down, heading back home.
Below is a photo of the house on the corner. I never think to share with you the things I see every single day. This blog is helping me stop taking them for granted.