the week that was

The Patient has been in Ohio for a week now (see last post). I have been content to be alone with my thoughts, my books, my movies. I've been swimming, dozing under the birch trees, eating late, sleeping late . . . indulging in all my favorite failings. And my activities. These included a trip to San Francisco to see the Women Impressionists show at the Palace of the Legion of Honor in Golden Gate Park.

It was a typical San Francisco summer day; cool, damp, foggy. The show was breathtaking. Try to get there if at all possible.


Then it was across the Golden Gate to Sausalito to a restaurant on the north end of town called Fish. Here across the bay the sun was out, the bay sparkling, the fog nowhere in sight.

Sensational Portuguese Red Clam Chowder accompanied by a sensational view.

Friday night was dinner with friends at my house. I do a bit of the Pearl Mesta thing when the Patient is not here. We sat by the pool until the mosquitoes drove us inside, talking, talking, talking. Sunday I went to San Anselmo for a brunch party. Gorgeous home, bright sunshine, cool breeze. Perfect day.

I watched Hillary give her speech tonight. If I hadn't known better I would have said it was an acceptance speech. Perhaps it was. Acceptance of defeat. But she sure looked and sounded presidential to me. I'm a sore loser.

Tomorrow I fly off to Columbus to join the Patient for a week's visit. A day or two in the city, a day or two down on the farm, a day or two in Pittsburgh. Then home. But the MacLap is in Ohio so I may have time to stay in touch. Meanwhile, I have to finish packing then get to bed early for a 4 AM wake-up call.